#I just think this cap has so much potential

[saveyourblood]

Pretty Boy - Ch 2 (Evan Buckley x Reader) (Eventual Buddie x Reader)

Summary: You can feel Buck staring. When your eyes meet his, you realize he’s staring at your hand, which is still on Eddie’s knee. You slowly retreat, which makes Buck turn his attention to your face. You smile softly. He just looks out the window. The one where you’re an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them.

Ch 1

A/N: This is such a niche story and I am desperate for validation, please tell me if you enjoyed reading! Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: descriptions of gun violence, mental health issues/suicide ideation (nothing overly graphic IMO)

Unlike some people who work in this building, you know how to take orders. So, instead of dragging your feet and prolonging the inevitable, you go to Bobby’s office the second you get back from the call. Hen tries to say something to you, but you’re so focused on having this conversation behind you that you ignore her. 

Despite the door being cracked open, you knock a few times. 

“Come in,”  Bobby says. 

You step in. He looks up. 

“Ah,” he remarks as if it’s a surprise to see you. “You can close the door behind you.” 

You close the door and lean against it. 

“Have a seat,” Bobby instructs as he files through some random papers. 

You let out a sigh. You were hoping to be in and out, but Bobby clearly has other ideas. Still, you do as you’re told. 

“I wanted to talk to you about what happened with Buck.”

As if you’d be in here for anything else. 

“Are you gonna write me up?” You ask instinctually. You’ve never been formally disciplined, so the question is gnawing at you. 

“Buck wants me to.”

You snort. “Buck wants a lot of things; most children do.”

“You’re a year younger than him,” Bobby points out. 

It’s true—Buck is 26, and you’re 25. But in this context especially, age is just a number. You’re a 25-year-old advanced practice paramedic with 3 years of experience who acts their age. Buck is a 26-year-old firefighter in his probationary period who acts like a frat boy.

“Are you going to write me up?” You repeat. 

Bobby gives you a look, then sighs with a crooked smile. “No. But if you do anything like that again, you’ll be hearing from me and Sergeant Grant.” 

“Fair enough,” you cede. 

There are a few silent beats in the conversation. This is why Bobby made you sit—he has more to say. 

“Why does he bother you so much?” Bobby asks.

“Literally everything I told him: he’s wreckless and he’s gonna get someone killed if he doesn’t change.” 

“So why not teach him to do better, to be better?”

“Trust me, Cap, I’ve tried,” you chuckle. “I mean, even earlier today, I taught him how to clear an obstruction in a neonatal airway. And honestly? For a few minutes, when he was running down the stairs with that baby in his arms, I thought, ‘Hey, maybe he isn’t so bad after all.’ And then he yells at Sergeant Grant, and he proves me wrong. Again.” 

“I’m talking to him and Sergeant Grant about how everything went down,” Bobby says. 

“I’m not telling you that to get him in trouble, I just…” You take a deep breath through your nose and let it out as a sigh. “It felt like no one was holding him accountable. And I’ve tried playing nice, and I’ve tried teaching him, and he still had the nerve to pretend that he can play god. And I just… lost it, and thought that maybe if I treat him like a man would, he would finally listen to me.”

Bobby nods, taking in everything you’ve said.  

“You think I don’t hold him accountable?” He eventually asks. 

You let out another sigh. “If Buck worked under any other LAFD Captain, they would have canned his ass about three months ago.”

“But is that the right thing to do?” Bobby counters. “This job is tough, and it isn’t something that can be taught overnight. Buck has potential—he could be an invaluable asset some day.”

“Is firing him the right call? Honestly, Bobby, I have no idea,” you admit. “But if people have to get hurt in order for Buck to be good at his job, then it isn’t worth the price.” 

Bobby ended up firing Buck a few days later. It wasn’t for what happened with Sergeant Grant; it was because, apparently, Bobby caught him having sex with some girl on a roof. He used one of the fire trucks to drive there. The moron didn’t realize they have GPS trackers. You got all of this information in a text from Hen. 

You turn the corner to the locker room, planning to put away your keys and wallet before starting your shift like you always do. You didn’t expect to see Buck sitting on the bench in front of the lockers. 

You plan on opening your locker, throwing your stuff in it, and leaving before Buck can say anything. The second you lift the lever, though, Buck turns his head towards you. 

He doesn’t say anything, and you definitely aren‘t going to break the silence. 

“So you heard, huh?” Buck says. 

You close your locker and spin the lock to scramble it. “Yeah, I did.” 

“Aren’t you going to say anything else?” 

“Tough break. Sorry, man,” you say with a shrug. You turn on your heel to leave.

“That’s it?” Buck says with a laugh. “A few days ago, you were slamming me against an ambulance, and now… nothing? Aren’t you supposed to say, ‘I told you so’?”

Buck doesn’t even work at the 118 anymore, and he still has a way of getting under your skin. You close your eyes, hoping you can gain some composure before you say anything.

“I’m sorry for pushing you; that was unprofessional,” you say and make your second attempt at leaving.

“But that’s all you're sorry for,” Buck says, rising to his feet. 

You turn around and eye him from head to toe. His chest isn’t puffed out in that hypermasculine way it normally is. Buck shifts his weight between feet, and when the pressure of your stare becomes too much, he breaks eye contact. 

“It’s like Sergeant Grant said: I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” you eventually reply.

“Then say it: you’re happy to see me go.”

Jesus Christ, he can be such a baby. 

“Okay, fine, you wanna go there?” you retort, taking a step forward. “You wanna know the worst thing about you, Buck?” 

He just looks at you. 

“You. You’re the worst thing about you. Because you could’ve been good. You’ve got decent skills, and you have heart, but you have no discipline. You can’t take orders, and you can’t look at a woman for more than thirty seconds without having sex with her. You’re a 16-year-old boy trapped in a 26-year-old man’s body, and ever since you started, you haven’t done anything to change it. You get in your own way and are too busy flirting or running your mouth to even realize it.”

You take another step towards him to ensure he hears what you’re about to say. “You could’ve been good. And I hope that shit haunts you. Because maybe, it’ll finally make you grow up.”

You start to make your exit again but linger in the doorway. You turn back around; there’s one more thing you want to say.

“I’m not happy to see you go, Evan. In fact, I was really hoping you would prove me wrong.”

And with that, you’re gone. 

You and Hen go out on a ‘shortness of breath’ call that ends up being a STEMI — a heart attack. You get him to the nearest hospital in five minutes, and if they can get him to the cath lab, he has a really good shot at surviving it. The patient’s wife hugs both you and Hen, thanking the two of you for doing such a wonderful job. You savor the feeling; most calls don’t end this way. 

When you pull into the station, there’s an engine missing. At first, you think it’s no big deal: the boys are probably out on a fire call. Then you see Bobby standing where the engine’s supposed to be.

“What’s going on, Cap?” Hen asks as she closes the door to the rig. 

“There’s an engine missing.”

“Yeah, clearly,” you chuckle. 

“There were reports of a residential break-in on Lambert Street in Winnetka,” Bobby continues. 

“Damn,” Hen whistles. 

You both heard something about that over the scanner on your drive back to the station; there was a suspected hostage, a young girl. Last you heard, the subject was trying to flee by motorcycle. 

“All of the 118 firemen are accounted for,” Bobby concludes.

You and Hen share a look. Who has a track record of borrowing engines without permission?

The truck pulls up and slowly backs into the garage. You catch a glimpse of the driver in one of the rearview mirrors. 

“Pretty Boy,” you say simply. 

Buck steps out of the truck, still wearing the jeans and long-sleeved grey shirt you last saw him in. “I know what this looks like.”

“Looks like you took the engine out in your street clothes,” Bobby says as he approaches the younger man. 

“I didn't really have time to change,” Buck counters. He doesn’t say it in his normal cocky tone, though. Frankly, he looks nervous. 

“Athena Grant called me, wanted to tell me what an asset you are.” Bobby continues. “Told her she was half right.”

Buck frowns. “Are you giving me another chance?” 

“You’ve used all your chances; so have I,” Bobby says, “because somehow I have failed to communicate to you how lucky we are to do what we do.”

Bobby starts to walk away, but Buck isn’t letting him get away that easy. 

“You're wrong, Bobby. I absolutely do get what a privilege it is to serve here,” Buck says, “and you know what? You were right to fire me.”

That makes Bobby stop dead in his tracks.

“I was a punk,” Buck continues, “still am one. But I'm a punk who understands what he lost. Just… needed you to know that.”

“I hope you mean that. Now go get dressed.” 

Buck stands cluelessly for a second, then turns to you and Hen. “I think I’m not fired.” 

“Your shift’s not over yet,” Hen points out. 

You go to follow her, but Buck stops you by calling your name. 

“I just wanted to tell you, uh…” Buck says, wringing his hands together. “I’m gonna prove you wrong.”

Normally, words like that coming out of his mouth would set your skin on fire. Between the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes, though, something in your gut tells you to hear him out. 

“Yeah?” You ask simply, waiting for him to elaborate. 

“Some day, I’ll be good,” he says, “but until then, I’ll be better.”

Buck extends a hand for you to shake. It’s the most chivalrous thing you’ve seen him do since you met him. You look at his hand, then at his eyes. There isn’t a trace of humor in his gaze. You take his hand and shake it. 

“I look forward to seeing it.”

Your first call of the shift is to an amusement park where one of the rides malfunctioned. A rider was thrown from the ride as it was moving, and it sounds like he’ll be DOA. When the operator deployed the emergency breaks, though, it meant the rest of the train stopped at the top of a loop, which one rider is now dangling out of. 

Buck is the first to volunteer to climb the ladder and harness the passenger. You’re not surprised. He’s grown a lot in the last few weeks, but he still jumps at every exciting opportunity, no matter how dangerous it may be. Maybe that’s just how Buck is. 

“Hey, he’s asking about his friend,” Buck radios once he’s at the top. 

“Chimney, how’s the kid on the ground?” Bobby radios. 

You look up and shake your head. 

“We lost him,” Chim radios back. 

“All right, I don't need the people up there seeing that. So, do me a favor... He survived, right? Get him on a gurney. You know the drill,” Bobby instructs.

“Copy that,” Chim replies. 

Once you and Chimney get him on the gurney and out of everyone’s sight, you look up at Buck. 

“Come on,” Chimney mutters encouragingly. “Come on, Buck.” 

After a painfully long minute, you see the man’s grasp on the rollercoaster falter. Then, you watch him let go. You close your eyes before you see him hit the ground, but the sound will echo off of your eardrums for a while. 

You go the rest of the night without seeing Buck; you don’t share another call, and when you’re not out in the field, you’re asleep in the bunks. It’ll probably kill you in the long run, but these days, you learn to sleep whenever and wherever you can. 

When you wake up for morning report and breakfast, Buck is already sitting at the table. You wipe the sleep out of your eyes and get a cup of coffee before sitting across from him. 

Bobby was nice enough to make breakfast; he knows how hard these calls are. No matter how many you get, it’ll never get easier. 

Bobby sets a plate in front of Buck. 

“I’m not hungry,” he says almost instantaneously. 

“This is America, Buckaroo,” Chim replies as he sets some silverware on the table. “Eating has nothing to do with being hungry.

“Man, I was right there. You know, all he had to do was reach up and grab my hand,” Buck says instead.

“People do funny things at times like that,” you offer, sipping your drink. “ Sometimes they just freeze up.”

“I’ve never lost anyone before,” Buck says quietly. He looks up at you. “Does it get any easier?” 

Bobby answers for you. “No.” 

“Look, people die, and that’s part of the gig, right?” Chim says as he sits next to you. “See, your problem is, you're looking at every job like it's a long-term relationship. They're one-night stands, man. In that moment, they mean everything to you, but once the morning comes... it's on to the next one.”

“How silly of me to think you’d say something productive,” you roll your eyes.

Chim furrows his brows. “What?”

“You’re such a man,” you say to Chim, then turn to Buck. “Look, dude, we all go through it, and you just have to figure out a way to deal with it,.” You pause. “You know why we wear these uniforms?”

“Sex appeal?” Chim answers, which earns him a quick kick to the shin from you. 

“So people can easily identify us,” Buck responds. 

“That’s true, but… I don’t know, I like to think it’s because when we take it off, we can leave it all behind us. Right now, you’re firefighter Buckley, but when your shift is over, you’re Buck. It just… symbolizes letting go, I guess.”

“I see his face every time I close my eyes,” Buck says. “Does that happen to you?” 

“It’ll pass,” you promise. 

“And if it doesn’t?”

You stare at Buck for a moment. It’s hard to imagine that this is the same man who mouthed off to a police Sergeant mere weeks ago. 

“Then you talk someone,” you eventually say. “A friend, a therapist, a bartender… you find a way to let it out, and then you let it go.”

 

Once again, you don’t see Buck for hours. You heard on the scanner that the 118 responded to several rescue calls, none requiring an RA unit. You spent the rest of your shift bouncing from call to call and ER to ER, seeing everything from stab wounds to childbirth. It’s shifts like this that remind you why you do what you do. It’s chaotic, stressful, and bloody, but it is fun. After a certain point, you don’t even have to use your brain; the adrenaline in your veins kicks your brain into autopilot, and your pounding heart is just along for the ride. 

You step into the communal locker room, completely exhausted. You still have to change, and considering everything you’ve witnessed, you should probably shower too. Most of all, you want to go home and crawl into your bed. 

Buck is sitting on the bench in the locker room, similar to how he was a few weeks ago after he was ‘fired.’ Just like you, he’s still wearing his uniform. His head is bowed between his shoulders as his elbows rest on his knees. This time, his head doesn’t perk up when you open your locker. 

“I heard you used The Manuever today,” you spark the conversation. “Nice save.”

Buck finally looks up and then chuckles quietly. “Yeah, if only I could’ve done that a few days ago.” 

You take a seat next to him. “Still thinking about Devon, huh?” 

“I’m trying not to, I just…” Buck says, then cuts himself off as he shakes his head. 

“It’s easier said than done,” you conclude. 

“Yeah.” 

“Yeah,” you agree. 

Both of you sit in comfortable silence for a few moments. You open your mouth a few times only to close it. You don’t want to tell this story; you hate even thinking about it. But if you’re going to sit here and tell Buck that he has to let things go, you have to do the same. It’s only fair. 

“The first person I lost… her name was Katherine Vanec. She was 17 years old, wearing a University of Washington shirt, white shorts, and black Converse High Tops. We got a call from her mother, who was at work when she started getting strange texts from Katherine. It was supposed to be a welfare check, and when the cops got there, they found her locked in her bedroom. When fire and rescue broke down the door, she had a .22 caliber revolver pressed to her temple.”

“Jesus,” Buck mutters. 

“Katherine had a history of Borderline Personality Disorder and suicidal ideation. She figured out that her high school sweetheart had been cheating on her for almost a year. They made plans together, I guess — they were gonna go to the same school, find a place off-campus to live together. He pulled the rug right out from under her, and she couldn’t take it.”

“So what happened?”

You smile sadly. “By the time we arrived, a negotiator had been talking to her for almost ten minutes. They thought she was in a good spot that all she had to do was put the gun down, and we would swoop in and 5150 her.”

“Involuntary admission,” Buck says. 

“Yeah,” you confirm. “That didn’t happen. When the negotiator asked her to set the gun down, she lost it. She kept talking about how every time before, she chickened out, and she couldn’t let that happen again. She turned the gun on us.”

“Suicide by cop.”

You nod as a few tears well in your eyes. Even all these years later, that case haunts you. “Her finger wasn’t near the trigger; she didn’t want to hurt anyone. She just didn’t want to be alive anymore, and she couldn’t think of another way out. I can still hear the sound of the bullets tearing through her.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” Buck asks softly. 

You wipe at your eyes and clear your throat. “Let it out and let it go,” you answer, then nudge his shoulder with yours. “Your turn.” 

Buck smiles; the expression is bittersweet. “I keep replaying what happened. I can’t shake this feeling that there’s something else I could’ve done. Maybe I could have grabbed his arm, or maybe there’s something I could’ve said differently.”

“Or maybe, no matter what you did, it was always going to end that way,” you suggest quietly. “Maybe he felt the same way Katherine did—like he had no other way out. We can try to rescue people, but we can’t make them want to be alive. Some people just don’t want to be saved, Buck.” 

“That really sucks.”

You laugh. “Yeah, it does. I guess that’s why we have each other; it makes it suck a little less.” 

“‘Each other’ as in you and me?” Buck asks in a lighthearted tone. 

You roll your eyes, but secretly, you’re thankful for the change of pace. “‘Each other’ as in the 118, which technically includes you and me.” 

“Sounds like a copout.” 

You laugh and clap a hand on Buck’s shoulder before standing. “Have a good night, Buck.”

You make it to the doorway before he says your name. You look back at him. 

“Thank you,” he says softly. 

You bite your lip, but it isn’t enough to conceal your smile. “Anytime.” 

[xbraveheartx]

New reaction meme-- 3, 2, 1, GO

[hella1975]

what does it mean to average 2:1 or 2:2? I don’t think we do that in America

okay so the uni grading system here is done based on percentages. the pass mark is 40%, which americans ALWAYS hit me with 'only 40???? easy!!!' so id like to clarify the content/exams are very difficult and the marking is very mean and generally it's really frustrating when people respond this way, like why tf would we have such a low pass grade otherwise it's a dumb assumption to make but anyway. you do about 6 modules a semester (on average, some courses have more/less), and each module will give you a final grade, and then the average of all your modules from both semesters will give you your final year grade. they're all marked by the same system, which is:

grade of less than 40% = fail

grade of 40%-50% = third class honours (called a third)

grade of 50%-60% = lower second class honours (a 2:2, literally said aloud as 'i got a two-two in my exam')

grade of 60%-70% = upper second class honours (a 2:1, said as 'i got a two-one'). this is what im PRAYING for.

grade of 70%+ = first class honours (just called a first). this is the highest you can get, so even if you get 90% you'll have the same grade as someone who got 72%. this is also what i mean by the exam system being really tough here, bc most people are just grateful to get a first.

[himbosandhardwear]

Eddie has a bad habit of picking at his skin when he's nervous. Not, like, shy nervous or stage fright nervous, but the real kind of nervous, not-sure-I’m-gonna-survive-this kind of nervous. Like while he was alone in the boat house, he'd shredded every one of his cuticles. That time Hopper caught him behind The Hawk, very obviously selling his wares, he'd bitten his lips bloody.

Tonight he's picking a scab off his knee. It's practically healed already, so it won't bleed, he just needs to feel something on his body come loose before he does.

“You good, dude?” Steve asks, so in tune to Eddie's nervous disposition. Such a good guy. What a friend.

Eddie lets his head hit his knee caps with a thunk.

“Yup.”

Steve snorts. “You don't look good. I mean… You know what I mean.”

He smiles, tilting his head to look at Steve, always happy to give him a hard time.

“Oh, absolutely. You think I look good, don't cha, Stevie?”

He gets a couch pillow to the face for that, but they're both laughing so he doesn't think he's crossed the line yet.

Yet, yet, yet.

“Seriously, what's up with you? You've been quiet. It makes me want to call the squad.”

“Har har,” Eddie mumbles, but he does uncurl himself, sitting back against the couch again. “I'm trying to work up the nerve to ask for advice but it's-” Christ, he doesn't even want to admit to being embarrassed, that's how embarrassed he is.

“It's what?” Steve asks, the picture of earnest encouragement. “You can talk to me about anything, man, we're, like, bonded in blood or whatever.”

“Right. Yeah. Except this has the potential to get real awkward, real quick, and I'm not sure we're at that level of friendship yet.”

“Well,” he drawls, “if you ask me whatever it is that's got you all flustered I'm sure that will level us up. Right?”

“I'm not flustered.” God damn his red fucking face. Steve just laughs at him. “It's just, I don't have anyone else to ask about this. Jonathan probably doesn't have this particular problem, cause he's got- Uh. Sorry.” Steve waves it away, so Eddie goes on. “The kids are too young and the band guys don't understand what we went through-”

“Eddie, just spit it out.”

“Fuck! Okay, fine! You asked for it.” He takes a giant breath, steels his spine and just says it. “The Trauma is affecting my ability to get laid and I don't know how to fix it. Every time I get close to it I freak out and have to bail.”

There. All out now.

He looks over at Steve, and it's so much worse than being laughed at or pitied. He just looks sad.

He shakes it off quickly, hair barely moving, Eddie notes. He finds Steve's hair routine both endearing and ridiculous.

“Yeah. Okay. That's super common, just so you know,” Steve assures him first. “Robin says it's all connected, your mind and your body, so trauma can, like, get trapped in weird places like that. I can't play baseball anymore. Cause the memory of beating demodogs to death.”

“As you do,” Eddie quips.

“Right. But your thing. Uh. Yeah, it took some time before I could relax enough to even attempt getting laid, let alone actually do it.”

“So?” Eddie drawls, waiting. “How did you get over it?”

Something is off. Steve's not known for being skiddish about sex, but his hesitation and his inability to look Eddie in the eye is setting off alarms.

“Hey, if this is too weird for you-”

“No, I'm good, it's fine. Just, I'm the only person you have to talk to about this, so I'm gonna try to be helpful but, uh,” he scratches at the back of his head awkwardly, “in all honesty, I haven't been laid since before Vecna either. Way before. So. Yeah. Not sure I should be giving out advice on anything.”

That's crazy. Like actually crazy. He can't even compute Steve Harrington not absolutely dripping in women. He must have some look on his face because Steve gives a dry sort of laugh, self deprecating, and leans back against the couch with him.

“Weren't you on a date with Brenda Mulligan the night- Vecna’s first attack?”

Steve shoots him a look. “Y- Yeah, but that didn't go anywhere. We weren't, like, compatible or whatever.”

Oh, yeah, it was weird that Eddie knew that at all, let alone remembered it nine months later. “That's too bad,” he replies lamely.

“Yep.”

He feels terrible for dragging down the whole night, it would've been better if he'd just kept his mouth shut. But that's never been his strong suit, as evidenced by him blurting out, “If the hottest guy in Hawkins can't find a suitable date, what fucking chance do I have.”

Steve snaps, “Don't say that. What the fuck?”

Great, now he's gone and made it weird. Good job calling your straight friend hot, you fuckin’ dipshit.

They sit in the awkward silence, out of things to say or out of useful things to say. Either way it's them breathing, the clock ticking, and the M.A.S.H. rerun playing softly in the background.

Steve clears his throat. “Whatever, let's get back to the point. You don't have to tell me if you don't want but…what do you think the specific reason is for your…issue?”

He thinks about it. Has been thinking about it, for a while now. “My dick still works, if that's what you're wondering.”

Steve chuckles, high and surprised. “Good for you.”

“Yeah. It's more like, I can't get out of my head. I start worrying about my scars, explaining them if someone asked. I think about how even though I don't want anything long-term, I wouldn't be able to do long-term anyway, because I'm a fucking mess. If it's really bad, I'll get flashes of Chrissy or Patrick's bones snapping, as a little soundtrack to the fun shit happening outside my head.”

Steve looks sad again. Maybe it is pity but it looks more turned inward, like he's dealing with his own shit more than Eddie’s.

“You hooking up with strangers then?”

Eddie blinks at Steve. “Well…duh. Right? Not like I have guys lined up around the block here in Hawkins.”

Steve is full blown scowling at the TV. It's weird.

“What if-”

Eddie waits but Steve doesn't finish his thought.

“What if…what?” He prompts, giving a little nudge with his foot.

He's still avoiding eye contact, not even turning his head to look in Eddie's direction.

In a soft voice, almost too quiet to hear, he says, “What if we helped each other out?”

He must've heard that wrong. Or he's misunderstanding.

“What?”

“What if we help each other out? Like, a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

That can't be right. No fucking way. It's a test. Like as soon as Eddie agrees, Steve yells ‘Aha! I knew you wanted to molest me! Goodbye forever!’ and runs out the door.

“What, exactly, do you mean? Like, what are you getting out of it?”

Steve finally looks over. “Well, I would think that was obvious. If you're willing.”

Eddie's legs are starting to go numb.

“Okay, so I blow you and you blow me, except when you're doing it I have to watch you take it like you're being force fed liver and onions at Grandma's house?”

Steve slowly shakes his head no.

“Oh, okay, so you're going to blow me and enjoy it,” he snaps sarcasticaly.

Steve nods once.

“You want to blow me?”

“Mmhmm,” he hums without moving a muscle.

“Since when!” Eddie brings his octave down from the upper atmosphere. “Since when, Harrington? This is insane behavior. Should I call the squad for you? I'm serious. I'll do it.”

“You don't have to say yes. I was just offering.” He says it like Eddie isn't one green flag away from stomping on the gas.

He starts nervously laughing, which makes Steve flinch unfortunately, but he can't stop.

“It's cool, just forget I said anything.” He moves like he's about to get up and leave, which is fucking insane because it's his living room. Eddie stops him with a tight grip around the bicep.

“Don't you dare. If you're even remotely serious, we have to have a much longer conversation. Sit.”

Steve drops like a sack of bricks. Which is…something.

“Right. First off, this is uncommon behavior in a straight friend. Is there something you'd like to tell me, so I don't think you've been body snatched?”

He pinches at the top of his nose, like Eddie is inconveniencing him greatly. Too bad.

“I'm probably bisexual.”

“Probably?” Eddie asks with a raised eyebrow.

“I'm an inexperienced bisexual,” he amends through clenched teeth.

“Good. Great. Happy to hear it.” His heart may explode from his torso à la Ridley Scott's Alien but sure. “Second on the agenda, what do you mean help each other out? What's on the table? Mutual handjobs and then we never talk about it again?”

“No,” Steve answers immediately. That's good. “I'm open to…whatever you're open to.”

“Steve.” He has to clear his throat. “You dont even know what you're agreeing to.”

“I trust you.”

Fuuuuuck.

“Okay, right, uh, let's circle back to that later. Third thing, what, uh, what is your level of commitment with this?”

He just stares at Eddie, all doe eyed. It shouldn't work, Eddie fucking invented that look. It's gotten him out of more scrapes than he can count. Now it's being used against him but to what end? Does Steve want to get bundled up in a blanket and tucked into bed? Because Eddie can make that happen for him.

“Whatever you want, I guess,” he finally says. “I mean, like I said earlier, friends who help each other out. Casual. I'm not interested in looking for Mrs Harrington anymore and you're having a problem relaxing around guys who don't understand what you went through.” He makes a gesture like ‘Ta da.’

He's not wrong. It makes sense. But…

“Fourth thing. Is this just an experiment for you? Cause I'm all for you exploring your sexuality but, historically speaking, friends are a bad place to start.” AKA ‘it will break my fucking heart if you decide you're not that into it and it's because it's me.’

“Eddie. Look.” He gets more comfortable, facing Eddie straight on finally. “What you're going to provide is practical knowledge on what has only been theoretical up to this point, but the theory has already been well established.” He taps his head. “Understand?”

A smug confidence melts Eddie into the couch. “You liiike me,” he sings. “You think about me naaaked. You wanna-”

Steve lands on him, lacking any elegance or grace, and nearly caves their skulls in with his Jay Garrick approach to kissing. Eddie doesn't say a fucking word. He does wonder at the fucking majesty that is making out sober. What a revelation. Steve keeps making these tiny, almost wounded noises, to the point where Eddie tries to back up and do a check in but Steve doesn't let him, he chases him down and latches back onto Eddie's bottom lip like he's Hannibal Lector. It's stupid hot.

Everything is going great until Steve lets out a sound that legitimately has Eddie worried he's upset about something.

He pulls back and asks, “Are you okay?”

“Oh fuck, I'm sorry. I just can't, I can't believe I got this fucking far. You're so hot I'm losing my fucking mind.”

“Me?” Eddie snaps. “Dude, you're out of your mind.” He pokes Steve in his meaty chest. “Literal. Prom. King.”

“Fucking stupid high school shit, are you kidding me?” He sits up, straddling Eddie's hips, which is boner enhancing to say the least; he's got Steve's thighs in his grasp immediately. “You don't get it, I'm gone on you. I've got it bad, man. I was playing it cool earlier-”

“At no point tonight were you in any way playing it cool.”

“-but, fuck it, guess I'm ruining it, cause I can't be cool about this. I don't want casual. I don't even want to date you,” and before Eddie can even worry about that, he says, “I wanna skip straight to boyfriends, man. I know you said you didn't want long term with anyone but-”

Eddie interrupts again, this time by pulling Steve back down horizontal and kissing him like he just bravely declared himself as all in.

If this is a pod-person, well, that's a problem for Tomorrow Eddie. Tonight Eddie just landed Steve Harrington as a boyfriend.

[sativaonsaturn]

venus observations

a leo venus is a passionate and dedicated lover - if you deserve it. the opposite energy will be presented if we believe we’re being taken advantage of because leo venus also can get the ick quite easily.

a leo venus also looooves to give gifts! the second a partner or a family member says “i wish” or “i need” leo already has the gift in their cart.

in true virgo nature, a virgo venus is pretty unwavering in their standards for a relationship. even if they choose to stay, virgo is still likely to nitpick if they’re unhappy. it’s recommended for them to look for what’s on their list and not for potential.

an aquarius venus makes such a great friend. any aqua placement is usually interested in humanity so it makes sense that they’d be fun loving and supportive and sociable (11th house).

similar to this, if your venus is in the 11th house you may want to be friends with someone before you date. you may not even realize you want a relationship with someone until you know they can be a good friend and you two have a solid bond.

a scorpio venus’ love is unmatched. their love is not just passionate, it’s profound, it’s intense. once they’ve established that you’re their person, they can’t see anyone else. some say that scorpio’s love is too much but i think the right person will feel safe and a real sense of belonging.

you cannot keep a sagittarius venus where they don’t wanna be. they can’t stay where feel stifled or codependent and they want to know that they’re experiencing as much life as they would if they were single. a sag venus will love a partner who can love them as deeply as they do while respecting their individuality.

a capricorn venus is serious about their love and in such a romantic way. if you want someone who will plan dates, buy your outfits, introduce you to family; cap is the one for you. however capricorn will not behave this way unless they see true potential/ a future.

pisces venus can be either flighty and detached or head over heels in love. this isn’t to say that they can’t ever find a balance but it takes awareness for them. pisces also tends to place expectations on those they love and become disappointed when they fall short.

someone w/ venus in the 4th house is typically in search of a partner who will make them feel at home. often are adamant about pursuing marriage and a feeling of security more than anything.

small edit: a leo venus also loves to receive gifts! especially thoughtful ones or ones w/ sentimental value. they like to feel like you were really considering them when you bought it

sativaonsaturn 🍃🪐

[wonderjanga]

Custody Battle

You know those AUs when Black Adam finds out about Billy being a kid, so he wants to adopt him? Let’s explore a different aspect of that. People think Marvel and Adam are the dads of Mary Marvel, and a kid named Billy, who might potentially be Junior. People also think they’ve been going through a messy divorce.

Marvel: “How many times do I have to tell you? I- Uh Billy, won’t be going to Kahndaq with you!”

Black Adam: “If I throw in the girl, will you let me then?”

Marvel: “Who? Mary?”

Black Adam: “Yes, her. If I’m correct, she’s also a child.”

Marvel: “Wha? Still no! Throwing her in made the deal worse!”

People are thinking Marvel isn’t letting Adam see their kids. People are also wondering how the two had kids, how long they’ve been married, and why it took them so long to divorce. I mean, the two had been throwing each other into buildings long before Adam wanted custody of the kids.

Black Adam: “Being the Wizard’s Champion is too much for you, Batson.”

Marvel: “It is not.” *sassy man eye roll*

As a result of this conversation, the public now thinks two things, one, that Marvel is neglecting his kids due to his work as a hero, or as the Wizard’s Champion. Whatever that means. The thing is though, it isn’t completely surprising because this is gonna be connected this to the “Cap not Caring” post. (In that post, Mary and Billy threaten to kill each other, while Billy fights Freddy)

Marvel: “I don’t want that man around Mary.”

Reporter: “And Billy.”

Marvel: *confused* “What?”

Reporter: “And Billy. Mary and Billy.”

Marvel: “Oh, yeah, and Billy.”

Yeah, people did not like that, because how do you just forget your son exists? To be fair though, Billy’s son is himself. Can you blame him? Too bad that isn’t common knowledge. They’re also flaming him for his “preference” for Mary.

The second thing people think is that Marvel’s name is Batson? People do some digging and find out about C.C.. Billy is now officially his own dad. Now, at the prospect of a child getting potentially kidnapped, or at least having to undergo forced family bonding, some other heroes grew a little concerned.

Marvel: “Guys he’s not getting Billy. I don’t know why he thinks he’s getting Billy. He’s not. I don’t know why he would think he has a choice when the only times he’s been in Billy’s life were to literally ruin it.”

Superman: *extremely concerned* “What..?”

Marvel: “I know right?”

Batman: “Why does Adam now suddenly want Billy?”

Marvel: “Cause he found something out he shouldn’t have.”

Batman: “What did he find out?”

Superman: “Why was a grown man beefing with a child in the first place?!”

Marvel swiftly dodged all the questions by walking away as Clark called after him.

Bonus:

The two get taken to reality court tv.

Marvel: *when it’s his turn to speak* “Jury and judge, he killed his nephew.” *points to Adam*

Jury and Audience: *gasps*

Marvel: “Who’s to say he wouldn’t kill Billy?”

Black Adam: “I’m a changed man now.”

Judge: *glares at Adam for interrupting*

Marvel: “Last week, you slammed me so hard into the ground I ended up in the sewers.”

Black Adam: “That was before, this is now.”

Judge: *bangs gavel* “Mr. Adam! Mr. Marvel is speaking. Refrain from interrupting.”

Black Adam: “Who’re you to tell me that?”

Judge: “The damn judge.”

Audience and Jury: *collective oohs and aahs*

[lvlyghost]

The Things I Never Said: Part 2

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Summary: upon learning about your pregnancy simon thinks there are things he needs to take care of.

Word Count: 1.2k

Tw: Angst, fluff, hurt with a lot of comfort, banter. The task force is there for you💞 i think that's it✨

A/N: here it is, i never planned a second part so forgive me if it's not as good! Still hope you like it. Already working on a request that's similar to this one🐸✨ thank you so much for all the support. Reblogs and comments are appreciated! Remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome🩵

Masterlist✨ | Part 1 | Part 3

Simon pulls you closer to his body, one arm draped over your form and hand resting on your stomach. The storm is raging outside, the thunder startles you every five minutes. You stay there in complete silence as the realization of this whole thing settles in your minds. He wants you to be safe now more than ever that's why when he's reliving the events of the day it hits him. He had thought the worst, that you were abandoning him, that you got tired of him. Simon would never say this to you but losing you would be the end of him. Enraged and with his heart racing he had hopped on his motorcycle. The soft caressing of his fingers stops abruptly, body going rigid behind you. You turn your face in worry.

"Simon?" You call him. You were beginning to fall asleep. "What is it?"

"That fuckin' muppet." He snarls. "I was so caught up in you leaving that I'd forgotten he hit you. That cunt... fucking Christ." He sits. "Let me see." He lifts your shirt just above your belly with gentle hands.

"Love, I'm... it's fine." Simon sucks in a sharp breath as his eyes land on the bruised area of your skin.

"What did the doctor say?" He demands, eyes somber.

"She said i should stay in bed for a few days and to not lift heavy things or you know just... overwork myself."

Simon rubs his eyes with the heel of his hands, disgruntled.

"This is on me... my bloody fault"

"Hey, stop now." You stand up, coming to a sitting position to mirror his stance. "You didn't know." Soft hands fall on both sides of his face. "I should've told you before this happened, if anything this is on me."

"If something happened to you i would never forgive myself, kid. Lie down. You need to rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

-

Simon's been waiting for this day since the incident. You're still at home, recovering from what could've ended with you in a hospital bed and a broken heart.

"You sure about this, Sir?" Gaz asks, worried about what might happen. "It's just training right?"

"Just training." Simon's eyes are set on that bastard. Craning his neck he steps on the sparring mat. As much as he wanted to go find him and kill him he couldn't do such thing. But after the images that flooded his mind made him realize how dangerous it had been. What could potentially have happened the rage within him is boiling his blood. And now he needs somebody to pay the price. Choices have consequences and he nearly had a painful one. If he had insisted just more...

Breathing harshly he looks him in the eye. Poor muppet doesn't know what's coming for him. He stands there confidently, thinking he has a chance against Ghost. Not Simon, the man only she gets the chance to see.

This is Ghost about to fight.

-

For some reason you decided to stop by the local pastry shop and bring something for the task force. You're feeling much better so that's why you're walking down the corridor of the military compound. With a shirt that's nearly too oversized a pair of combat boots and a cap. You figured you could have these outside of the base and enjoy a nice day with your teammates. You missed them already. Since Simon had been reluctant to leave your side, and you loved it that's for sure, but he wouldn't let you do much as simple tasks like washing the dishes or doing the laundry.

Walking past the doors you're greeted with loud cheering and yelling at the two men in the middle of the mat. Your smile quivers until you process the scene in front of you. Not surprised, not worried. He's gonna be just fine. The other poor boy... Price is the first to notice you, approaching you in three long strides. He had decided to stop by and watch, that's how they sort things out.

"Here, let me help you with that." He takes most of the desserts from your hands, scrutinizing your features with slight concern. Your eyes glued to Simon's hulking body. "I'm gonna assume he doesn't know you're here. Shouldn't you be resting?"

"I'm not on duty, Captain."

"I'm not asking as your Captain but as a friend."

You turn to face him with the ghost of a smile on your lips.

"I'm feeling better so I wanted to see you all, maybe we could have these together as soon as Simon is done with his personal grudge."

Price chuckles. Reluctant to see the rest of the fight, you keep talking to John until it comes to an end. More cheers and clapping echoing around the place. You take a quick glance and get a glimpse of the younger soldier limping while he plops down on a near bench, his teammates gathered around him holding a towel out for him to clean up his face. Footsteps approach you and Price, Simon's frowning behind the mask you can tell by the way the corner of his eyes wrinkle.

"Hey little lady!" Soap greets you with a big smile, hugging you tightly. "Heard you got all knocked up!"

"For fucks sake, Johnny!" Gaz scolds him. "Have some more respect for the girl."

Johnny rolls his eyes feigning annoyance letting Kyle hug you too.

"Don't bet mad at him. We all know why he had to do it." He whispers before pulling away.

When Simon joins you, you're aware of what's coming.

"You're out of bed." He points out, blankly.

"It's been almost a week. As long as I don't lift heavy things I'll be alright. Remember?" You speak back. You reach out for his hand and intertwine your fingers with his. The rest of the team silently walks away to the outside giving you some privacy. Simon studies you, all of you. There's a spark of worry in his blue eyes that you don't like. "Don't worry about me anymore."

He pulls you closer, arms wrapping around your shoulders as he inhales deeply.

"Is that my shirt, doll?" He asks in a hushed tone. You chuckle, burying your face in his chest.

"I missed you, and it smells like you." Simon prompts you softly to start walking outside and join the rest. "You're not hurt, are you?" You stare up at him.

"Don't you worry about me, he wasn't able to land one single hit, love."

You pull him down kissing over the black balaclava where his lips would be.

"I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for not telling you Simon." You sigh.

"I understand now why you didn't, kid. I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at myself for not making you feel safe enough to tell me. If anything I'm to blame."

"Is there any chance I may touch your belly?" Soap asks as soon as you sit down next to him.

"Yes." You reply with a wide smile.

"No." Simon growls at the same time.

"Jesus! I suppose that naming the child after me is also off the table?"

"Absolutely."

A round of laughs echoing around and along the backyard. Your eyes scanning every person gathered in this very moment. Loyalty, admiration, respect and love.

A family of your own that would soon get a new addition.

"What if it's a beautiful girl?" Gaz interrogates.

Everyone goes silent.

"Fucking hell." Simon whispers.

He's fucked.

[pastryfication]

Can you please, if you'd be so kind, do one with Oscar x driver!reader, and him proposing on media day, when they're talking in front of people? And Lando has to hype him up before. 🤭

hi!! thank you for your request!!

i can’t imagine oscar proposing in front of so many people—i think he’d be more the type to do a private, intimate proposal—so i’ve changed the request a bit. i hope you still like it!

just say yes | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x driver!reader

content warnings: mentions of hungary 2024… also, this is messy! i’m not even sure myself what is going on.

the race hadn’t worked in your favour. starting p8 and moving down to p11 wasn’t good enough. just out of the points, in a race with so much potential, wasn’t good enough.

in the final lap, you wanted nothing more than to exit the car, throw away your helmet and hide yourself away in the hotel. but then, your race engineer turned on the radio and delivered the message you had waited to hear for so, so, so long. oscar had won the race. oscar passed the finish line in first place.

now, after such news, your eagerness to finish the race wasn’t build on the need to sulk, but instead, an eagerness to celebrate your boyfriend.

as soon as you were out of the car, you were running towards were you knew he would be. the smell of burnt tires and gasoline faded to the background and you threw yourself against him, race suite and helmet still on, and enveloped him in a hug.

you were so happy you wanted to cry. he deserves this more than anyone else and to see him achieve it was a dream come true for you. as he decented the podium, you were in the crowd and clapped louder than anyone else.

oscar had found your face in the crowd as he stood on the top step. he smiled brightly when your eyes met, and when lando initially ignored him and he felt the world slowly crashing down on his happiness, your silhouette was what he sought again.

you were there. you were always there. even when you had a shitty race yourself, even when he could see how sad you were about the position you ended up in, you still came to celebrate him. and you poured your entire heart into the celebration, pushing yourself into the crowd of papaya to be closer to his beaming face.

too caught up the the giddiness you felt, you truly hadn’t noticed anything wrong until oscar pulled you aside just before your media duties. he wasn’t smiling quite as bright as he was supposed to, considering he just had his maiden win. he explained, voice a bit strained, that he had been allowed to pass lando. he told you how the win didn’t feel completely like his own, like he didn’t quite deserve it, and you listened with a frown on your face.

this was his win. he deserved it. he earned it fair and square. and you told him exactly that. you told him while holding him close in another hug, your mouth up close to his ear so only he could hear the sweet words you whispered.

as you leaned your head on his shoulder and comfortingly rubbed his back, oscar mind began to cloud with thoughts of the ring in his trouser pocket. barely a hundred meters away, tucked safely away in his jeans in his drivers room, lay the diamond ring he so delicately had picked out with your sister.

he wanted it then, he wished so desperately to have magical powers so he could make it spawn in his hand, but he didn’t, so instead, he took your hand in his and dragged you along.

“where are we going?” you asked, but it was for deaf ears. he had a mission and he was going to accomplish it. he was going to propose right then and there. he was going to spend the rest of his life with you.

୨୧

the reporter had to fight hard to hide the smirk when he spotted the diamond on your finger. it stood in stark contrast to the dull race suit hanging from your waist, sparkling prettily against the sweaty fireproof shirt clinging desperately to your damp skin, compliment the op1 cap on your head perfectly.

“what is it i spot on your finger?” he asked, microphone pushed up against you eagerly in await of your response.

“well, what does it look like?” you answered, showing it to him with a joyful smile adorning your face.

“i guess your boyfriend wasn’t satisfied with just a win.” the reporter laughed.

“fiancé.” you corrected. “and my fiancé is quite satisfied with his amazing win. but you can never get too many things to celebrate.”

[writersdrug]

Thinking about Simon with a goth! gf, and introducing his team to you.

Warnings: cursing, very slight nsfw, pda

Typed this up on my lunch break, not thoroughly proofread, ending is meh but it's been rotting in my brain so I had to push it out. Feel free to send me asks about this headcannon, I'd love to write more about it! <3

Simon insists on dragging his team to the nearest pub after a particularly rough day, offering to buy then a round of whiskey. They are all reluctant at first, complaining about aching backs and heads, and Price saying that the missus was expecting him.

Then Simon mumbles something about how his girl would've loved to meet them.

"Yer wha' now?"

"My girl."

Suddenly, Gaz's headache is gone. "Must've just been dehydrated, I suppose." Soap's back feels much better, after being able to sit in the car for just- five minutes, now. And Price? Apparently, the missus was at a dinner raffle for her charity- thing, and he'd just now remembered.

So, drinks and a quick bite at the pub you worked at. It was settled.

Simon leads them in shortly after parking the truck. The other three quickly scan the room for anyone who stands out. As Simon brings them to a booth in the back, they all take a seat, heads on a swivel for some pretty thing to come bouncing over and latch herself onto him.

"Gonna hit the head." Simon says. "I'll put our drinks in- she'll bring 'em over, she'll be done with 'er shift soon."

As he leaves, Soap, Gaz, and Price all sit there in a few moments of observatory silence. It's much harder to sample the crowd, they realize, since there's apparently no dress code for the servers. Johnny eyes each person like a hawk, until he sees a potential pick.

"Tha' one." He says, nodding towards a busty, long-legged blonde. Price and Gaz follow his line of sight to her as she leans against the bar, playing with her hair and laughing at something her friend says. Her bootcut jeans and frilly top accentuate her curves, and it's obvious that every man in her vicinity is ogling. "Twenty on 'er. Seems like he'd be into swimsuit models, eh?"

Gaz humms, scrunching his nose disapprovingly. "Nah, mate- too simple."

"Feck is simple 'bout 'er?"

"I mean for Simon." Gaz corrects Soap. "Don't think he'd want someone so... ditzy- no offense to her." He adds. "I think he wants a girl who can hold her own, in the physical and the figurative sense. Someone..." he narrows his eyes, searching through the crowd of people. "Like her."

He discretely points to a woman across the bar. She's playing darts with a few people, and hits the bullseye perfectly just as Soap and Price look her way. Her tank top and cargo pants show how defined, yet lean her muscles are. She looks like she could last a few decent minutes in a brawl. "I bet on her."

"Well I'll raise ye forty - I ken LT wants someone more... passive."

"Forty it is, then. I'd love to have you pay my bill tonight."

"If I may..." Price chimes in, leaning against the back of the booth with a smug look, arms folded over his chest, "I'd love to get in on this little game o' yours, and walk away with eighty pounds t'night - because you're both wrong."

Soap smirks. "And how's tha', Cap?"

Price smooths his fingers over his mutton chops. "Well, for starters, I'm a bit ashamed o' you boys. Neither of those girls actually work here, do they? Mm?"

Gaz groans, letting his head drop against the wall behind him. It takes Soap another moment, but then he remembers Simon saying this was where you worked. The whole point of them going to this specific pub was because you'd already be here, on the clock.

"Shite..." he mumbles.

"Alright, sir." Gaz says defeatedly. "Lay it on us."

Price leans his elbows on the table and points his finger straight ahead; Gaz and Soap both follow it to the bar, where a sweet-looking girl is punching orders into a server tablet. She has long, silky, red hair, and a petite frame. She smiles so kindly at every patron who speaks to her, and when she makes their drinks, she is quick with it, still engaging in conversation as she shakes the mixer with a powerful arm. Despite the crowd, she seems to be managing fine on her own.

"Her." Price says, tucking his hand back onto the table. "Y' see that face? The way she talks to 'em all? How she's soft and tough at the same time? Imagine that birdie tucked under his wing, eh?"

Soap and Gaz can imagine it. She's a cute little thing, a social butterfly, it seems - the perfect polar opposite to Simon that just might be the perfect fit.

"And I know he's got a thing for redheads." Price adds.

"Piss off, how d'ye ken tha'?" Soap grumbles.

Price shrugs. "Call it intuition."

Simon comes around the corner, carrying several glasses of neat whiskey. "Sorry-" he says, setting a glass in front of Price, and handing out the others as he sits down on the end of the booth. "She's on 'er way now."

"No worries." Price says, trying to hide his smirk. "Didn't know y' were into redheads, Simon."

Simon pauses, looking down at the table in confusion - then he chuckles. "Yeah, s'pose I am. How did y' know? Did she come by already?"

Price laughs. "No, son. We were just sayin'-"

"Hey baby!"

You turn the corner and lean down, squealing as you throw your arms around Simon's neck and kiss him. The other three look on with shock, and Soap is about ready to throw this random woman off of Simon, until he holds you just as tightly and kisses you back.

Price's smirk falls right onto the table when he realizes that he is just as wrong as the other two.

You're Simon's bird. Simon's raven. Black, styled hair, with black lipstick that is currently smudging Simon's chin. You have a choker - no, several chokers, wrapped around your neck, as well as a tiny corked bottle filled with red liquid that makes Soap and Gaz nervous, dangling from a chain. Long, black-painted fingernails, with small spiderwebs decorating the tips, caressing his face and the back of his neck. Your arms and legs are covered with torn fishnets and small tattoos, and you're wearing a black number with a corset, paired with studded Doc Martin's.

You finally pull away and look at the rest of them. "Sorry- nice to finally meet the lot of you." You say, shaking each one of their hands. Your eyes are striking, with full, dark lashes, eyeliner, and red contacts. Gages and a bull ring, too. Soap feels a shiver run up his spine when he looks at you head on, and Gaz hasn't picked his jaw up off the floor since you came around.

"Erm-" Price clears his throat, "pardon us- call me John. This is Kyle, and Johnny." He gestures to the other two, still watching you with a mix of curiosity and awe.

"I've heard so much about you. It's good to put names to the face." You say with a smile, shaking the other two's hands. Gaz manages to smile a bit, but Soap has the same shocked expression plastered onto his face.

Simon has a love-drunk, black-smudged smile on his lips as you sit down in his lap. "She's been wantin' t' meet you all for a while, now. Sorry I kept 'er a secret."

"To be fair, I'm usually hard to find." You say, grabbing a napkin and wiping the lipstick off Simon's face. "I'm either here, at class, or roaming around and people-watching... at night, of course. People are more interesting when it's dark out." You traced a fingernail along his jugular as he stared up at you.

"John 'ere knew you were a redhead."

"How?! Oh my god- are my roots showing?"

"Nah, luvie, he's just observant. 'S our job." Simon places a kiss to your forehead. You smiled, leaning into the kiss.

"Oh, kitchen's about to close. You wanna split a burger, Si?"

"Sure, get what you like."

"'S no onions ok?"

"Fine w' me - chips?"

"You know it." You giggle, making a show of squishing his cheek and biting it. You turn to the rest of his team with a smile. "You boys hungry?"

Price is the first one to speak, taking a heavy breath in, causing Soap and Gaz to finally snap out of their trance. "Erm- whatever you get, we'll do the same. On us tonight."

"Oooh, you sure?" You asked, raising your eyebrows. Simon looked at Price curiously.

"You positive, cap?"

Price nodded. "Lost a bet."

Simon looks even more concerned. You pat his shoulder and stand up. "I'll go punch it in, be right back." You give him a peck on the cheek, and begin to walk away - Simon's attention returns to you as he hooks a finger in the chain choker around your neck and tugs you back.

Soap, Gaz, and Price all watch, stupefied, as you land back in Simon's lap with a giggle. He grabs your chin between his thick fingers and kisses you on the lips, shamelessly letting his tongue slide past your teeth and squeezing your thigh. You laugh into the kiss, letting him devour you for a moment, before tapping his cheek and breaking away.

"I got fifteen minutes to put everyone's order in, Si."

"That's plenty of time, dove."

"Yeah, but then kitchen will get mad for doing it last minute, and I don't want-"

He chuckles, gently shoving out off of his lap and smacking your rump through your skirt. "You're fine, go on."

You smile, then disappear behind the booth, boots thudding against the hardwood floors.

Simon looks back at the three of them - Soap is staring between you and him, a blush covering his face. Gaz immediately turns to look at the wall, scratching his chin, and Price is gazing into his whiskey, though there's a lingering surprise in his eyes.

"So- what bet?" Simon asks, adjusting his hips; Soap notices his hand reaching down to palm at the fabric over his groin. "I don' remember bettin' nothin'."

"We weren't bettin' on ye pullin' her out ye pockets, LT." Soap comments, trying to avoid Simon's eyes. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out forty pounds, slapping it onto the table.

"It makes sense..." Gaz, chimes in. "With your whole skeleton look, she fits you."

Simon slowly smiles, understanding what they had bet on. "Oh... I see. Lemme guess - you thought I's with someone more... simple? Lile that blonde at the bar, is tha' right?"

"Tha's what I said!!" Soap exclaims, dropping his fist to the table. "You got te give me credit fer pointin' t' a swimsuit model first, aye?"

"Oh- because every bloke on earth is shallow enough to care about swimsuit models." Gaz scoffs. "I at least picked someone who didn't look so bloody helpless." He gestures to the girl playing darts with her friends. "You don't even know if the other girl's a model."

"Well, one can imagine..."

"Feel as though I's the closest..." Price mutters under his breath, making the other two glare at him.

"Ye were not."

"Get off your high horse, cap-"

"Well- try this." Simon leans on his forearms with a smug look on his face. "My bird? She's a model, and she's a black-belt in Judo, and-" he looks at Price- "she's a natural redhead."

They all look between Simon and you, as you stand behind the bar and punch their orders in, laughing with the other redhead. Their eyes would drop onto the table if they were any wider.

"You sly dog-" Gas comments with a chuckle.

"I don' believe ye." Soap says, crossing his arms. "Wha' kind o' model?"

"Lingerie."

Price chokes on his whiskey.

"Bullshit." Soap snaps. "Pictures or ye lyin'."

"Nah." Simon sighs, leaning back in his seat and daking a sip of his whiskey. "Not the ones I have, at least. But pick up the last "Bloodletting" magazine, and she's there."

They all sit there, a bit dumbfounded, watching you walk back to the booth. How on earth did someone like Simon land someone like you?

Simon's full of surprises, even in his personal life.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Prewar!Cooper Howard has a breeding kink because he loves being a dad. He and Barb married and started trying for kids later in life than most folks around them, so much of the sex they had, especially early on, was focused on getting Barb pregnant. If he'd had his way, they would have had a whole litter of children, but hey, sometimes life doesn't work out the way you want. Still, there's the fun of trying, and there was a lot of trying. After the divorce, he's shocked when he meets someone else, and even more shocked when he feels those same urges with you. He's been trained to try and knock one in basically every time, he jokes.

At least, that's what he tells himself.

He's also incredibly possessive, and it drives him wild to think about getting to see you all swollen and filled out with his child. Particularly with you being younger that him; the ugly part of his brain is barking at him to stake a more permanent claim on you every time a guy your age so much as looks your way. Personally, he thinks he's too old to have more kids, but between his secret urges, your forgetfulness when it comes to your pill, and your twin high sex drives, well...sometimes accidents happen.

He'd be over the moon, once he knew you were happy as well (he would also worry about the news potentially being hurtful to Barb, but that'd be an issue for tomorrow). Showing you off in public, knowing that other people see how gorgeous you are and know you fully belong to him, it really gets him going, and you certainly take notice of how amorous he is when you're out together (combined with how vigorously he fucks you when you get home). Thinks you're insanely sexy pregnant and likes to watch you ride him with a big belly. You'd both better be a lot more careful about your contraception after the first baby if you don't want another, because getting to see you that way only makes his kink worse.

The Ghoul has a breeding kink because he's incredibly possessive. It's been literal centuries since he's come across anything in this world that he cares for enough to want to claim it, and you're officially claimed. He wants everyone, including you, to know that you belong to him and only him. Other ghouls can smell him on you much more strongly if he cums inside you, and he enjoys the way filling you full scratches his most primal itch. It's just an added benefit that he's almost positive he can't actually get you pregnant, but...there are records of ghouls reproducing with other ghouls. Haven't stranger things happened?

The little thrill he gets at the idea is just nature trying to take over.

At least, that's what he tells himself.

You'd be hard-up to get him to admit it, but he wants you to need him. He wants an excuse to baby you and pamper you and force you to let him do things for you without the vulnerability of admitting that he wants to do those things for you anyway because he's deeply in love with you.

You complain that your feet hurt during your journey for the day? He'll carry you everywhere you want to go from now until the end of time, if that's what you want. Stomach and appetite troubles? Name whatever you want, he'll find it for you, no matter how many caps he has to pay. Tired? "Of course you're tired, sweetheart. Let's stop for today. Here, sit down. Do you need some water? Eat this, you need some calories. Let me rub your legs and feet for you." It is endless and sort of surreal for you to adjust to.

Speaking of journeys, I think he also secretly wants to settle down a bit. He does already after he meets and falls for you, seeing how much the constant trekking back and forth across the irradiated desert takes out of you, and he definitely would want to do so expeditiously if you were pregnant. It's not like secure places don't exist in this world. He can keep you, and anyone else who may come along, safe just fine.

He'd be afraid to fuck you if you were pregnant, worried that he'll hurt you or make you sick or make something bad happen with the pregnancy. But if you reassure him, maybe beg a little, he'll do his best to make sure your urges are satisfied. Sit on his face and let him slide his tongue through your insanely sensitive folds, lie back and let him fuck you with those agile fingers while he jerks himself off. You'll miss being properly penetrated, badly, but you won't go without.

He wants an excuse to be even more protective of you than usual. Give him a reason to literally pluck men's eyes out for daring to so much as look at you, a reason to never let you out of his sight ever again. If you thought he was ready to commit violence to keep you safe before, you haven't seen anything yet.

I can't imagine it would be easy to have a big family in the Wasteland, but reminding him how much he loves being a dad would certainly have the thought on his mind.

[lemoniiiiiii]

chances

(frat!kyle spencer x fem!reader)

content: fluff, angst (if you squint?), mentioned sexual harassment (by frat members)

a/n: not proofread, short drabble inspired by this post, wrote it really fast so sorry if it's not the best (it's my first time writing for kyle too so)! also, the last line is sick I'm aware I'M SORRY RYAN MURPHY POSSESSED ME

when your boyfriend kyle told you that he was joining the fraternity kappa lambda gamma you seriously thought he was joking. kyle was caring, hard-working, kind. yeah, he liked to joke around, but he was nothing like those greek alphabet degenerates you associated frats with. you told him this earnestly. it wasn't just a passing judgment, it was a genuine concern for him. trapped in a house with all those guys? kyle could handle himself well growing up in the 9th ward, but these frat guys were different to the types of people he was used to dealing with. you didn't want to see him to get hurt, or worse... start becoming like them.

when you expressed your feelings to him, kyle (of course politely) brushed your concerns off.

"give em' a chance..." he told you, caressing your head in his lap. "they're not all as bad as ya think. and even some of em' that are a bit.. y'know.. they're good people at heart, i can tell. they just hafta be put in the right direction."

"and is that why you're gonna try and become president?"

"yep! kappa lambda gamma has the potential to be one of the best chapters tulane has ever seen. that, and it gets ya some pretty awesome connections"

he was right.. a lot of past frat members had become pretty successful and kyle could use that to his advantage.

"okay fair... just, be safe okay? stick to what you know- who you are"

"oh i f'sure will" he flashed a knowing smile, leaning in to plant a tender kiss on your lips. your hands found their way into his golden curls, drawing him closer for a deeper connection.

as if on cue, the moment kyle pulled away, his phone began to ring. he glanced at the screen, and an apologetic smile appeared on his lips as he answered the call, shifting slightly as if bracing for what was coming.

"whoa, whoa, whoa, ma, slow down. what's going on? i’m at a—" he hesitated, casting a quick glance your way, "—at a friend’s, i told ya already... yeah, i’ll be home soon... what? right now?" there was a brief pause before he sighed. "okay, ma. love you too."

as kyle lowered the phone, you let out a soft sigh, already knowing what was coming. "gotta go, huh?"

"yeah, i’m sorry, baby..." he took your hand gently, lifting it to his lips in one smooth motion, the warmth of his breath tickling your skin before his lips brushed your knuckles. his fingers slid between yours, intertwining, and then he leaned in close, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. "i’ll see you on campus, okay?"

you nodded, trying to mask the disappointment tugging at your chest. "mhm… see you," you murmured, sitting up and watching him leave.

--

"oh my god" your jaw dropped as kyle stepped out of the bathroom. you had gone to surprise him after move-in day, wanting to see how he was adjusting to the frat life. and oh boy did he adjust. he had the blue embroidered polo with the collar obnoxiously flipped up, a white long sleeve underneath it, rolled up to the elbows, even-

"your hair!" you gasped. kyle's once luscious curls you loved to run your hands through had now become flat and side-swept. you silently cursed yourself for ever teaching him how to use a flat iron so he could help you do your hair.

"well y'know you could say hi-" he chuckled, enjoying your reaction to his new look. "like it?"

to be honest, you didn't hate it, as much as you wanted to. kyle had a way of making anything look good. it was more what it represented that made your stomach churn.

"you certainly look the part" you said, forcing a half-smile. "all you need now is a backwards cap and a blood alcohol content of .12%"

he laughed, walking over and nudging your arm. "c'mon babe. open mind, remember?"

you sighed. "right... open mind" you glanced over him again, noticing how the fabric of his clothes hugged his frame in a way that accentuated his muscles. "okay.. you do look really hot i'm just wor-"

"gonna stop ya right there." he gently placed a hand on your arm, giving you a warm smile. "thank you. i'm happy ya came."

"i'm... happy i'm here- well, with you anyway" you couldn’t help but let the corners of your mouth lift. kyle just had that effect on you.

"..seriously though," you started again, looking into his eyes with a hint of concern.

kyle’s expression softened as he wrapped an arm around your lower back. "i promise it's stoppin' here, alright? all this… it's just surface level. you still have me." he gestured vaguely to his clothes and hair. "this is still the same me."

you held his gaze, trying to believe him, though a small part of you still worried that he may fall in too deep.

"please baby, give em' a chance..."

"what kind of chance?" you looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. "because i was violated like three different ways just walking up to your room." the words came out half-joking, but there was an edge to your tone that kyle didn’t miss.

he straightened up, eyes narrowing, and his brow furrowed with a fierce protectiveness. "what happened?"

"i'm kidding... kinda. nothing crazy just a few wandering eyes" you waved it off, though the memory of being looked up and down like that made your skin crawl for a second.

"i'll talk to em' about it. if they say or do anything else, tell me. i'll cut their fuckin' balls off" his voice was serious, and though he didn't mean it literally, you knew he would go to war for the people he cared about.

"as long as i get to watch," you giggled, leaning into him a little more.

"...any chance you’ll stop using that flat iron, though?" you asked, giving his new hairstyle a gentle tease, still missing the curls that used to frame his face.

"when i'm dead." he chuckled with a cocky grin.

"we’ll see about that."

--

tags (ask to be added or removed anytime!): @fear-is-truth @juliamaximoff @jazz-berry @violetsghosts @heartz4peter

[princessbrunette]

thoughts on jj x bunny!reader ??

oooof, yes. i think it’s time we revisit the au where it’s bsf!jj and kook, prissy, well groomed bunny!reader.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 ⋅🐰 ˖°

you’re total opposites. yes you want to fuck eachother. yes you’re both oblivious to this.

your parents were never a fan of the pogue boy from the start. especially your father. he didn’t like the way that dirty pogue with the big smug smile would shake his hand at the door when he’d come round to pick you up, still wearing that black backwards cap and an expression that said ‘i’m probably balls deep in your sweet innocent daughter. you’ll never know.’ they’d scowl when they’d watch you disappear down the driveway with him, clutching his arm, practically rubbing all up on him in your tiny skirts. sometimes he’d even look back at them with a cheeky grin, like he just couldn’t believe it either. it was obscene, but they couldn’t stop you. you were soft, yes — but what bunny wanted, bunny got — and it just so appeared that bunny wanted to slum it with some blonde stoner from the cut, so for now they’d have to bite their tongue until you learn your lesson.

jj can’t spoil you like he wants to, no— he’s broke, and plus there wasn’t much you didn’t already have. but he’ll be damned if he didn’t give you the princess treatment, it was the least he could do for perving on his sweet, innocent best friend who knew no better (right?)

what this entails, is never having the power to tell you no. you need picking up from a kook party because you’re too tipsy and he certainly doesn’t trust rafe cameron to see it to it that you’re safe? he’s already outside, and has been for twenty minutes. you wanna learn how to smoke weed because you’ve never done it before? it’s better off he teaches you anyway, right? he would put his foot down with you, clearly needing some guidance and ‘taming’ if you will, but it’s harder than it seems.

“please, jayj?” you cling to his arm stood at his side, plush tits pressed against his bicep and eyelashes batting up at him routinely.

“nah, don’t do that.” he groans, shutting his eyes.

“pleaaaase?”

“you know it’s like, really not fair to pull the doe eyes on me. disappointing you is like… choking out a baby rabbit or something.”

“so you’ll come with me?” you muse hopefully and his eyes flutter, bordering on a roll as he licks his lips.

“fine, okay? fine.”

“weak.” john b passes by, clucking his tongue with a smug head shake.

“weak and pussy whipped.” pope follows him, bringing his can to his lips.

he’s also always getting looped into all of your girly shit somehow. “lets uh, keep this our special little secret, yeah cupcake?” he’s likely to say from your bedroom wearing a robe too small for him with cucumbers on his eyes, a victim of your ‘spa day’— which he secretly agreed to because he saw the potential of some possible feel-ups. maybe a massage, or showering together. not this shit.

you’ve also heard the phrase. “aint no way you’ve tied a pink ribbon to my bike again, princess.” more times than you can count. again, girly shit.

it does pay off though, the pogue tucked up in your pristine bed when your parents are out of town, whistling jokingly when you arrive back from the shower with just a towel tied round you.

“ooo—wee, aint that a sight.” he calls and you giggle, walking over to his side.

“not ashamed of anythin’ around you, jayj— just that comfortable. look!” you pull the towel off, giggling and doing a spin as you reveal your still dripping naked figure, pretty much the blondes wet dream presented before him.

it’s safe to say he nearly loses composure, but he’ll settle for you riling yourself up based purely on his reaction and praise, writhing your naked body on his lap only fifteen minutes later, humping him through his sweatpants.

“th—this isn’t normal for best friends, jj!” you mewl, body still warm and damp as he paws at you anywhere he can get his hands on.

“sure it is, sweetcheeks. don’t even trip.”

୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 ⋅🐰 ˖°

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wicked Games 10

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The tears strike like a flash food. Sudden and stormy and completely overwhelming. The world around you disappears behind the wall of your grief. 

When you float into a lull, your swollen eyes taken in the room. You lay in a bed, not your own, none of this is yours. It’s all him. It belongs to him. What about you? Do you belong to him now? Is that what this is? Or is this just about what that part of him inside of you? 

You hiccup and sniffle, rubbing your raw nose as your head pulses. A ripple flows up your back from an unexpected touch and you wince. You hug yourself and angle to see behind you. 

Steve slides his hand up to your shoulder and squeezes, “honey, can I get you anything?” 

You shake your head, the movement aching in your skull, and turn back to the face the room. He sighs and drags his hand down your back. Despite yourself, his touch is soothing. 

“You’re tense. That’s not good for the baby,” he says. 

“Please, not right now,” you plead. 

He’s silent. His fingers continue to rove around your back and walk along the curve of your side. “You’re not excited to be a mom?” He asks. 

You close your eyes as your lip poke out.  

“I’m excited,” he says. “To be a dad. I’ll be a good dad. And a good husband.” 

“Husband?” You his and lean forward so that your almost face down. You just want to stop feeling, to stop thinking, to stop being, and he won’t let you. 

“Yeah, we’ll get married. Make sure the kid grows up right. With both parents.” 

You laugh sardonically. The sort of brittle laugh that hurts. Nothing’s funny, in fact, it’s far from. 

“You don’t even ask me. You just tell me? Yes, Captain, whatever you want.” Your eyes well again, this time in futility. 

“I’m doing the right thing. I’m being a good man. I’ve seen this world. Thing’s aren’t what they used to be. Men like me, they don’t exist. They have no sense of tradition,” he says. 

Tradition? It’s a particular sort of code word that makes all the flags turn red. You suck in your breath and gather your strength. You sit up shakily and look over at him. You can barely keep your head up. 

“I don’t remember. You know that, right? That night is... nothing. It never happened. Not a single second. I woke up and I was blank. I didn’t know it was you, not until you found me, mocked me in that store,” you scoff and your vision rings in agony. “That’s how much it meant and this...” you look down at your stomach. “I guess that’s the consequence.” 

You hear his breath, feel him shift. He sits up, his torso naked. He stares forward as you drop your head and cradle it, bending your knees to support your elbows. He clucks and reaches over. He brings his phone over his lap. 

“Don’t remember.” He taps on the screen so hard you can hear it. 

He angles the screen to you and you reluctantly tilt your head to see. You know before you look. Of course, that’s why he didn’t forget. He has it right there. He recorded it all. 

“...you’re so sexyyyyy...” you slur towards the camera. Your voice, your expression, the way you sway, it’s plain to see your drunk beyond sense. “Come on, cap...” you shake your naked tits at him, “you said you could do this all day.” 

He snickers from behind the lens and approaches the bed. You turn over and show him your ass. You can see a glisten between your legs. It’s not the first time but you wish it could be the last. His hand enters the frame and he dips his fingers between your folds. You moan and wiggle against him. He pushes inside and you can hear how your cunt clings as he pulls out. 

“Stop,” you fling your arm over to shove the phone away. “I can’t watch that--” 

“You wanted it. You said you wanted me. That night was... magical.” 

“It was—I’m married and we’re strangers.” You insist. 

“Was. Were.” He snarls. “I told you I loved you and you said ‘if I weren’t married, Steve Rogers, I could love you too.’ You. You said that.” 

“I was drunk out of my mind,” you rub your temples as your stomach starts to churn. “I was stupid and angry. Well, I’m still stupid.” 

“No, you were unhappy. Your husband didn’t treat you right. We both know it. Everything that’s happened doesn’t change that,” he says. 

“Maybe not but...” 

“But what? You don’t have to slave away in some crappy apartment. I have a penthouse. We have a penthouse. It has lots of room and if you want more room for the kids--” 

“Kids? Plural?” You exclaim, so loud your ears ring. 

“One thing at a time, sure,” he says. “I’m telling you, you don’t have to do all of that with me. All I’m asking is for you. That’s all.” 

You look at him, your eyes dry and sleepy, your cheeks parched. “Maybe I want to be on my own,” you murmur. 

“That’s not what you told me,” he retorts and looks at his phone again. He drags his thumb over it and puts the screen up again. You see yourself. You watch the worst night of your life. 

“You love me, baby?” He asks as you slide up and down his dick. 

“Yes, yes, yes!” You grope your chest as you bounce. “I love you, Steve. I love you.” 

You cringe and shake your head. His fingers whiten as he grips the phone tighter. You slump, defeated. 

“You’re not going back to work. Once they see this, they won’t want you,” he blacks the screen. “But I want you, sweetheart. You and our baby.” 

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Could you do an imagine with Steve rogers and yn where he takes her virginity smooth talk to her into it and she comes to shield quarters to drop off some stuff he left over and she over hears him talking to tony,Buck & the avengers a both the bet they made that Steve couldn’t f*ck yn and she gets heartbroken and uses her superpowers to fight against Steve when she barges in. Like throw him into a wall. I hope you get my concept (btw yn has powers also & she’s new to the shield inc as an avenger)

Betrayed

PAIRING | Steve Rogers x Avenger!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 2.7K

SUMMARY | You're the latest addition to the Avengers, and Steve takes on a bet behind your back that he wouldn't be able to take your virginity. When you find out about the bet a few weeks later, you lose it and your superpowers rise to their full potential.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Steve being an asshole, swearing, smut [ loss of virginity, fingering, protected sex, massage turned to sex, light spanking ]

A/N | Hi nonnie, thank you so much for my very first request, I hope this is what you were looking for when you thought of the prompt! After all the love and many people requesting a part 2, I finally caved and you can find that right here! 🖤

Likes and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist

It has been a dream of yours ever since being recruited by SHIELD as an agent, to climb the ranks to becoming part of the Avengers. That dream finally became a reality and you were ecstatic when you found out you were accepted into the Avengers program. Right from the start all of the Avengers welcomed you with open arms, and you felt at home immediately, maybe a bit too much if you look back at it. During one of Tony's afterparties, you accidentally let it slip that you're still a virgin and that you wish you weren't anymore. There are some strange looks shared between some of the guys at your confession, but you decided to let it go at that time. Right now, however, you wish you hadn't.

After you went to bed that night, some of the guys got into a heated discussion about the fact that you're a virgin, and they all wanted to help you out. You know you're quite attractive - nothing over the top, but you take good care of yourself and it shows - so the fact that they all wanted to sleep with you wasn't much of a surprise. The fact that it was Steve who offered to do it first, did surprise every single one of the guys. ''No way you're taking her virginity, Cap. You have the sex appeal of a piece of grass,'' Clint remarked, which earned him a glare that wasn't all that nice. ''I think we should make a bet,'' Steve said, a mischievous look in his eyes.

''I want to make a bet if I can do it or not. If I win, I won't have to go on missions for a month. If you guys win, I will take one mission of your hands of your choice, each,'' Steve offered and they immediately agreed to these terms. And that is how Steve tried to talk you into his bed, which took more effort than he had anticipated, you weren't as easy as you made yourself sound that night. It took him a little over 5 months, but eventually, his hard work and patience paid off, for him at least.

~ 5 months later ~

You just went on a gruesome mission with all of the Avengers, and it was already late so instead of flying home now, all of you went to a hotel and spend the night. You had been incredibly frustrated for a while, and this mission was too much at this point. The mission ended up being successful, but Steve was being an asshole towards you the entire time, all to get under your skin for his gain, with the bet still in his mind. All the other Avengers quickly teamed up with the rooms, so your only option was to share a room with Steve, and you weren't happy with that. In the slightest.

''Guys, can any one of you please switch with me? I can't look at his face right now and I want to smack that smug grin of his fucking face,'' you say through gritted teeth, but they aren't helping one bit. ''Sorry doll, we always have the same sleeping arrangements and Steve usually sleeps alone, so you don't have a choice,'' Bucky said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. ''You guys are unbelievable,'' you said and you opened the door to your shared bedroom, rushing in to get away from all of them.

''Don't mind them,'' Steve said when he followed you and you let yourself fall on your back on the bed. ''Maybe it's a good thing you and I are sharing a bedroom tonight, I had a plan to get both of our frustrations out of our systems,'' Steve said with an innocent look in his eyes. ''You do...?'' you ask him, unsure where he's going with this. ''Yeah, I find that a massage works well, get someone to rub all my frustrations away. I brought some massage oil that I could use on you if you want,'' he offered, and you were thinking about it. ''I'm gonna take a shower first though, I don't want to be disgusting when you massage me,'' you said.

When you were in the shower, Steve texted the guys' group chat that his plan would work, you agreed to a massage and he would most definitely be able to turn it around so he could fuck your brains out later that night. When you came back from your shower, you put your hair in a claw clip so it would be out of the way, and you noticed Steve already prepared his bed to be used as the massage 'table'. ''Please, lay down without the towel so I can reach your entire back with ease,'' he said with a small grin on his face, but you did it. You needed a way to get this frustration out of your body, and it was worth a shot. ''Lay down for me, baby,'' he said and you didn't even think twice about the nickname he gave you.

You did as he said and made yourself comfortable. ''No towel baby, that was it's easier for me to reach everywhere,'' Steve said and because you're lying on your stomach, you can't see the smug look he has on his face. He took the towel away and softly gasped at the sight of you, you were even more beautiful than he thought you'd be and he was very happy he got to do this. He put a little bit of the massage oil on your back and his hands before he started, rubbing it all over your shoulders and back first, just grazing your cheeks when he's rubbing it over your lower back, teasing you ever so slightly. After it's nice and spread out he starts putting some pressure and you let out a soft moan at the feeling.

''Mmh Steve, feels good,'' you softly moan and he smiles at the way you praise him, happy he can make you feel that good. ''Are you feeling better yet, baby?'' he asked and you nodded, letting out a content sigh. The fact that you're completely naked is long forgotten, you were very comfortable around Steve now with his hands running over your body like that. ''Got some more pressure points in my lower back you could massage,'' you tell him, it's always been a point that's bothering you and now that he was massaging you, it was the perfect timing to get help. ''Like this?'' he said as he put a bit more pressure on your lower back with his palms, moving from your spine outwards and down to your hips. This makes you groan, and in all honesty, a little turned on too.

When he's taken good care of your shoulders and back, he moves on to your calves and thighs. ''Time for these beautiful legs,'' he says as he silently takes off his shirt and pants, they were getting more and more uncomfortable now that he was getting pretty hard from just massaging you. He was standing in his boxer briefs and you didn't notice, completely taken over by pure bliss. He dripped a little oil on both your legs, stopping right beneath your cheeks and he put it to the side, ready for later. He started massaging at your ankles and slowly work his way up to your thighs, giving special attention to the tops, near your ass. His fingers slowly move up and when he's kneading and rubbing your ass, you let out a gasp which turns into a moan.

''S-Steve...'' you say but he quickly cuts you off, ''Shh, it's okay baby, this is normal,'' he says and he starts kneading more roughly, even going as far as landing a slap on both your cheeks at the same time, watching them ripple under his hands. ''Fuck, doing so good for me, baby,'' Steve praised you and you couldn't help but enjoy it, even though you knew in the back of your head it was still wrong. It was at that moment Steve couldn't take it any longer, and his hand wandered down between your thighs, cupping your dripping pussy. ''Hm, you're already dripping wet baby, 'm gonna take good care of you,'' he says as he slowly slides his fingers through your folds, giving special attention to your clit with his middle finger. You moan loudly at the feeling, your ass automatically lifting in the air at the feeling.

''Such a good girl for me right now, letting me take good care of you,'' he praised you and you started clenching around nothing. ''Steve, please,'' you whimpered, you wanted to feel his fingers inside you by now. ''What is it, baby? What do you need from me? Just say it and I'll do it,'' he says, whispering the words in your ear as he pushes your thighs further apart for better access. ''Need you, need your fingers inside me,'' you said shyly and he happily complied, immediately shoving 2 fingers deep inside your dripping entrance without warning. This makes you gasp loudly and grind your hips against his hand. ''How does it feel baby?'' Steve asks with a huge grin on his face while picking up his pace and curling his fingers so he can continue to stimulate your sweet spot.

''G-good, gonna cum,'' you moan as you keep grinding against his fingers. He uses his other hand to play some more with your clit and before you know it, you feel your orgasm wash over you while you moan out his name loudly. ''Yes, let everyone know who's making you feel this good baby,'' he said, knowing full well all the guys could hear what you were doing through the tins walls of the hotel. ''Fuck, feels so good,'' you say as you come down from your high. Steve pulls his fingers softly out of you before turning you over on your back, so he could massage the front of your body. He started with your legs, giving them the same treatment as when he massaged the back of your legs, but avoiding your sensitive pussy this time.

Next up is your stomach, which he drips some oil onto before massaging it deeply, so you let out soft whimpers, especially when his hands' ghost over the underside of your breasts, which were beautifully exposed for his viewing pleasure, your nipples still hard after your first orgasm. ''Those breasts look delicious baby,'' Steve cooed and it made you giggle a little bit before he softly grabbed them and massaged them, giving extra attention to your sensitive nipples. He noticed every single whine, whimper, and moan coming out of you when he played with them, either by rubbing, tugging, or softly flicking them, and he was reveling in the sounds that left your lips.

He finished with your upper chest and neck before leaning down and softly kissing you, which you have been longing for this entire time. He wasn't your first kiss, but he was by far the best you ever had, and you didn't hesitate when he slipped his soft, warm tongue in your mouth to explore every single inch of it. He sat down on the bed and removed his underwear, exposing his painfully hard cock, which was laying on your thigh as he took his place between your legs. ''Steve, condom please,'' you said. You were on birth control and this was your first time, but you weren't sure where he had been and didn't want to risk either getting pregnant or an STD, but Steve didn't mind, he always used one anyways.

He grabbed one from the nightstand - thank god he came prepared - and ripped open the foil before rolling it onto his hard length. ''Are you ready baby?'' he asked and you said yes, giving him a soft smile too. ''Need you inside me,'' you said and without a second to think about it, Steve was pushing himself into your entrance, the burning sensation quickly subsiding and making way for pleasure. He is very big and a lot to get used to, but in no time he was buried inside you completely, letting you get used to the sensation as he bent over, stealing soft kisses from your lips. ''Steve, please move,'' you beg softly and he does, going slow at first but slowly picking up the pace, making you moan louder every single time.

Sure, he may be doing this for a bet, but he was still mindful of the fact that this is your very first time, and he did want to give you the pleasure you deserve, and not go too rough at first. ''Steve, harder'' you beg, and with that, he quickly picks up the pace as you wrap your legs around his waist, so he can hit the deepest spots inside you. ''F-fuck, Steve, gonna cum-'' you practically yelled when your orgasm washed over you again, making your vision go temporarily black with the intensity of it, Steve followed quickly after with the chant of your name, and he buries his face in your neck as he spills his cum inside of the condom. ''Fuck, feels so good around me baby, such a good girl for me,'' he says before pulling out. The rest of the night is spent lazily making out and cuddling, before falling asleep in each other's arms.

~ 3 weeks after the mission ~

You and Steve talked about what happened that night and both agreed nothing more would come of it, it was just a one-time thing to get both your frustrations out and you would remain friends. He talked to the guys about it and they all heard, clapping him on his back and saying he won the bet fair and square, so they would pick up his missions for the next month. ''How was it?'' Tony asked and he told them all about the massage and how it felt to be buried balls deep inside you. They were still talking about the bet when you happened to walk into the room since you accidentally left some files in the living room you needed to prepare.

''Good job Steve, you won the bet fair and square, I didn't think you would fuck her but you earned it'' Bucky said as he got up, and immediately you realize they're talking about you. ''What bet are you guys talking about?'' you ask, and all the guys' heads snap in your direction. ''Y/N, hey...'' Steve said, his face becoming bright red. ''Did you guys seriously bet on if he was able to fuck me? You guys are fucking unbelievable,'' you snarled at each of them, but you're the most mad at Steve. ''You're such a dick, Steve, you know that?'' you yelled at him and you felt your powers come out, usually you tried to keep them hidden since they could cause quite a lot of destruction. ''Using me for a fucking bet?!'' is the last thing you said before you lifted Steve off his chair with your mind, using your telekinesis.

You slam him into the wall on the other side of the living room with your full force, making him go through it like the wall was made of a thin sheet of paper. ''Don't ever fuck with me like that again, or he won't be the only one on the receiving end of my powers,'' you say to the rest of the guys, and they quickly scramble away. To make Steve hurt even more, you walked over to him and made him squirm by giving him a head-splitting headache with your mind, as he grabbed his head to stop it. ''Y/N PLEASE STOP!'' he begged you, but you didn't. You want him to hurt just as much as you were. ''Oh no Rogers, you don't get to beg now, you earned everything I'm going to do with you,” Your power got out of hand and when Wanda walked into the living room, she managed to snap you out of it at the right time, if she didn't you would've killed him.

And just like that, your dream of becoming an Avenger is completely shattered.

[kokoa-la]

Prompt from @help-i-need-a-cool-username

Jason has once again snuck into Gotham University. Now, before any assumptions are made onto why the crime lord would break into a college, the reason is because he likes the library. That's it. The public library is trashed and small, barely taken care of, but Gotham U's? It's beautiful. Multiple floors, organized and in sections, taken care of, alphabetical order, it's magnificent. The chairs were a reason alone to sneak in, but the students here added an extra charm. 

He had gone to the very back of the library on the second floor. This area was  pretty well hidden and enclosed. He would come here to read without anyone questioning him, even hiding the books he wasn’t finished with yet to continue on later. Jason wasn’t expecting someone to be so close to his spot though. A few tables across stood a student, thin, tall, with pitch black hair, baggy cargo jeans, and a white t-shirt. The other hadn’t noticed him yet, so he remained quiet and just watched. He was in front of a large white board on wheels, seemingly taken from the rooms he saw down the hall. 

“That doesn’t work, goddammit.”

On the white board was lines upon lines of equations- at least he thought they were equations, with most of them being letters and symbols rather than numbers. It made the vigilante’s brain hurt. The student - assumed STEM major - just kept mumbling to himself.

“Stupid physics, won’t allow interdimensional travel”

What? Jason may have been out of school since 15, but he knew no courses were asking for the answer to traveling between dimensions. It seemed the student had a habit of talking to himself when worked up or focused, possibly why he isolated himself from the rest of the library. 

“If your parents could do it, why can’t you? Think Danny, think!”

That sentence wasn’t concerning at all, but at least Jason learned the boy’s name. Danny seemed to have a strange background, what did he mean by ‘if your parents could do it’? Had his parents managed to travel between dimensions? The other was chewing on the cap of the white board marker, his other hand resting on his hip as he swayed back and forth.

“Oh! Oh! Oh! That! The thing! That thingy!”

Jason could practically see the lightbulb go on above Danny’s head. Just then the other erased a solid portion of the whiteboard and dropped to his knees, ouch. He started frantically scribbling, fast and messy, barely cohesive. Though, Jason was sure that if it was Tim sitting where he was instead, the boy could probably understand everything on that board. He’d stick to English literature, thank you very much. 

“That’s it! Oh my ancients! I got it!”

Danny practically jumped in the air, punching the air in triumph. Jason almost felt proud of him, this complete stranger he’s been watching, wow he was being creepy, huh? Danny shot both of his arms straight up, the marker gripped tightly in his right hand fist. 

“I did it!”

He looked so happy, so excited. He began to buzz, even spinning, before stopping mid loop and turning around slowly. Shit, Jason had been caught. To be fair, Danny hadn’t exactly turned around the whole time, meaning Jason was just watching his back the whole time as he worked through his… problem? It’s such a shame, Jason was thoroughly entertained by this random kid. 

“Uhhh, hi? How long have you been there?”

Oh shit, Jason had to talk now, didn’t he?

“Not very long, but long enough to know you were trying to solve interdimensional travel before apparently succeeding.” 

The color drained from Danny’s face. Whoops?

“Uhm, no I didn’t.”

Now that he got a closer look, the student looked like someone Bruce would adopt. Black hair, clear blue eyes, tan skin, sharp features, the whole nine yards. He was actually fairly attractive, maybe even cute. 

“Really? I could have sworn that you said ‘stupid physics won’t allow interdimensional travel’”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah sure, and I’m a student here.”

“Wait, you’re not a student here?”

“That’d only be true if you were lying.”

“Well I’m not so-”

“Uh huh, sure you’re not.”

“Look dude-”

“Jason.”

“Look Jason, there’s no way that I could solve interdimensional travel, the multiverse doesn’t exist.”

“Look Danny-”

“How do you know my name?”

“I won’t tell a single soul if you explain how you did it to me”

Curiosity won his gambit. Would he regret what he was about to say? Perhaps.

“Maybe over a coffee?”

He knew it was worth it when the marker hit the floor and Danny moved his hand to cover his red face. Well, it wasn’t the first time he’s done something he regrets, maybe this time it’d be a cute STEM major who knows the secrets to the multiverse. 

[zluty-spendlik]

WAKFU REDESIGN AND REWRITE SERIES PART 2

Yugo

Okay I really should've started with Yugo but I just had so many ideas for Eva I had to let it out. (link to part 1 here)

And with Yugo, I have the exact opposite feelings, because... he's fine. He's the main character, he's a kid, he acts like a kid, he's very thoughtful and kind... I don't have any issues with his character.

But! Theres still ideas i have!

For example, I never quite liked the idea of Yugo being the Eliatrope king and yeah, I know hes a child but he never really... gave me leader vibes, yk? Tbh compared to Adamaï he severely lacks the assertive personality. After finding out that hes the last airbender Eliatrope, he doesnt even care for the culture much. Or like- at all? Hes mostly excited about his superpowers- AND THATS FINE, hes a literal child, but still... a supposed king.

So either make him more invested in his people (you could make a whole arc outta that! He gets hyperfixated on figuring his heritage out he forgets about the here and now - tho that really does sound more like Adamaï) OR make him state outloud that he already has a life and doesnt want to start another one! He likes his friends and adventures and doesnt need anything else... until he does. Make him grow and find parts of himself he didnt even know were missing. New values, a culture he can be a part of!

(Also AU where Yugo actually cant use his powers properly so they only inconvenience him (like accidentally teleporting his stuff) and he tries to stay away from his heritage as long as possible until Grougal is just forced to drag him out the house is so entertaining 2 me istg)

So im fine with the story Qilby has spun, where he and Shinonome are the leaders cause HOW COOL WOULD THAT BE?? And anyway, the Adventure duo finding out about Qilbys betrayal through random goofy shenanigans seems pretty in character lmao

Design

I like Yugos design (except for the shoes, they absolutely haunt me) so I mostly just put my own spin on it rather than changing it radically. I briefly debated on giving him a tail or more dragon-like features but then I realized he lived a normal life before all this lol the village would PROLLY NOTICE

Tho it finally hit me that Eliatropes cleatly have deer features- like the little fur thingy at the end of the Eliatrope cap resembling a deer tail??? How did I not notice that??? But I think his s4 outfit resembles a bat way more so idk?

I gave him white freckles like the bambi spots and light blue "wakfu" spots on the back instead of the runes on his chest he has in the Qilby final boss fight. Also I couldnt decide which outfit I like more for s1-2 so which one do u guys like more?

I havent watched season 3-4 but I did a potential s3 Yugo look as well, I had fun :))

Yugo art dump