#I promise I tried to keep these answers as short as possible

[mothandpidgeon]

4 & 41 🫡

Ok welcome to my Ted Talk.

4. name a movie you put on to laugh to

My millennialism will be showing but this is a tie between Zoolander, The Hangover, and Josie and the Pussycats. The Hangover is a perfectly written film in my opinion. One day I will make a video essay about how Zoolander and Josie are essentially the same film but we don’t have time to get into that. Also the Josie soundtrack FUCKING SLAPS.

41. name three movies you consider "classics"

This is a tough one because I grew up in a Turner Classic Movies household. The classics are the classics. But I guess here are some that are classics TO ME.

Hocus Pocus (1993) a perfect film. Endlessly rewatchable. Still holds up 30 years (💀) later. He likes your yabbos.

Pride and Prejudice (2005) this is on so many girlies list of favorite films how can we not consider it a modern classic?

I was going to say anything by Mel Brooks which obviously are all classics but let me put you on to a lesser known movie that he didn’t direct but produced and starred in next to his wife Anne Bancroft called To Be or Not To Be (1983). It’s incredible. Funny, suspenseful, romantic. Highly recommend.

Send me a movie ask!

[fastandcarlos]

Dangerous Game : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: losing your independence whilst pregnant was tough, but when you try and be a little bit dangerous, oscar is far from impressed to see you do so

Panic struck you as soon as you heard the front door open, dropping the paintbrush down onto the floor as your feet scrambled to get you down the ladder that you were up. As Oscar called out through the house you shouted back, placing the lid back on the paint pot and hiding the brush underneath one of the cardboard boxes in the room.

As your eyes darted around you kept finding things to hide, moving bits around the room as the sound of Oscar’s footsteps got louder and louder towards the room.  

Just as the door handle was pushed down, you sat yourself down on the rocking chair that was in the corner of the room, leaning back with a smile on your face as Oscar walked in with his suitcase just behind him. 

“I didn’t think I’d find you in here,” he remarked, glancing around the room. 

It had been a couple of weeks since Oscar had been home but straight away his eyes narrowed as he looked around the room. Something wasn’t quite sitting right with him, taking a good look around the room as he remembered how things were when he left a short time ago. 

“It looks different in here,” Oscar commented, noticing your eyes looking a little more nervously at him then they usually did. “Have you made a few changes?” 

Your head nodded as you forced a smile onto your face, “I’ve just been doing the odd little bit here and there, trying to make life easier for you so there was less to do when you got back.” 

Oscar nodded too as you spoke, walking further into the room. Your heart began to race as his eyes narrowed on something, walking over and picking up the paintbrush that you had tried your best to hide, quickly noticing that it was still covered in paint, as was the ladder where droplets had fallen. 

“Please tell me you’ve not been up a ladder painting this nursery,” Oscar asked you, although he already knew the answer, unable to quite believe what you had been up to. 

Oscar had left you under the promise that you would do everything possible to keep yourself as safe as you could without him there. He was reluctant to go, but he trusted you. The worried part of you couldn’t keep that promise though, conscious of how much you had left to do and how little time you had before your baby arrived. 

“What if you’d have fallen from the ladder Y/N? Are you actually out of your mind?” 

Your body tensed up at the harsh tone in Oscar’s voice. “No, I’m not. I’m fed up of being treated like I’m unable to do anything though, I was only a couple of steps up and I was completely in control of what I was doing Oscar.” 

“Anything could have happened Y/N.” 

It didn’t exactly seem like the most dangerous job in the world to you, but to Oscar, it was almost as if you were tempting fate. He was happy for you to do a few jobs around the nursery, but the hardworking jobs, like painting and building, he wanted to do to make sure that you didn’t run the risk of injuring yourself. 

Oscar dropped the paintbrush back down, brushing his hands through his hair as he tried his best to stay calm. There was an anger in him that you hadn’t seen for a long time, taking you by complete surprise. 

“I’m not joking when I tell you not to do these things,” Oscar spoke, turning back to face you again. “It’s hard enough leaving you at the best of times, but especially so when you’re pregnant, and even more so when I know you’re not being safe.” 

“Surely I’m the one who decides when I’m being safe and not safe,” you argued. “Every time you say you’ll do something, something else comes along, we can’t keep doing that forever Oscar.” 

Painting the nursery was one of those things that Oscar had insisted that he would do for quite some time, but nothing ever materialised. It was either work, or family, or the time when he came home and fell asleep instead because he was so tired, but Oscar seemed unbothered that time was running out. 

“We’re supposed to do these things together, as parents,” Oscar calmly reminded you. 

“We can, but you’re never here.” 

“I’m here right now,” he huffed, throwing his arms down by his sides. “I know that I’m busy, and trust me, I wish that I wasn’t, but the thought of something happening to you absolutely terrifies me love.” 

A soft sigh came from you, “I didn’t realise that you were this worried about me.” 

Oscar took a step towards you, taking a hold of both of your hands. “Every second I’m worrying about you, nervous when the phone goes that it’ll be someone to tell me that something has happened to you.” 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered as Oscar gave your hands a squeeze. “I guess I’m quite calm right now, I just assumed that you would be feeling the same.” 

To Oscar, you were far too calm for his liking, he couldn’t believe how you just took pregnancy in your stride like it was nothing huge. He watched you carry on as if nothing was changing, with your big smile constantly still on your face. 

He was well aware that you wanted very little to change, you still wanted to be you, to be independent, and to be organised, even if he didn’t want you to be. Oscar wanted to step up though, your pregnancy was a chance for him to take control and take care of you, despite your protests. 

“The only person going up that ladder for the next three months is me,” Oscar told you, “but I still want you to be involved and doing things as well.”  

You nodded at Oscar’s suggestion, although you knew the ladder was pretty harmless, before you drove Oscar insane, you knew not going up it anymore was the best decision. 

“We’ll get this done, together,” Oscar assured you. 

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” 

“How about we make a start tonight?” He proposed. “Let’s order some food and plan out the jobs that we need to get done. I’ll get up the ladder and we can bring one of the chairs in from the dining room so that you can sit down and paint the lower parts of the walls. Does that sound like a plan?” 

Your smile turned up as soon as Oscar started speaking. “That sounds like the perfect way to spend tonight. You don’t have to do all of this though Oscar, the baby isn’t going to be arriving tomorrow.” 

“I’ve not done enough so far, I’ve got plenty of making up to do for all the jobs I’ve neglected,” he assured you. 

Your hands slipped out of his and wrapped around Oscar’s neck. “I’m sorry for breaking your trust whilst you were away, I promise it won’t happen again.” 

“Don’t be sorry, I get it. We’ve just got very different definitions of what safe activities are for pregnant women to do,” he couldn’t help but joke. 

“I only did it because I was bored without you around.” 

Oscar questionably glanced back at you, “I know for a fact you’d have been up that ladder anyway, but I’ll pretend to believe you. I love you, just promise you’ll take care of you, of both of you, for me.” 

“I promise that we’re both safe, and healthy, and we will continue to be too,” you smiled, pressing a kiss against Oscar’s lips. “Welcome home by the way.” 

“It seems like I got home just in time.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[lilreidgirl]

Bored

Summary: Your husband, Spencer, changed after getting out of prison and you finally snap

Warnings: Inspired HEAVILY by "bored" by billie eilish (my wife!!), kinda toxic relationship? and kinda toxic Spencer?, sex mentioned so MDNI(18+), not wanting sex but still having it mentioned, arguing mentioned, crying, let me know if i forgot anything!, English is not my first language, NOT PROOF READ

WC: ~1.4k

A/N: This is so bad, I just made it cause i love Billie, Spencer and angst, perfect combo BUT this is also my first angst fic so yayy!!!!

You knew it would be hard, Spencer getting out of prison and all, but you never expected this much of a change in your life. We all like to think that we aren’t extremely dependent on our relationships and that our state of mind doesn’t depend on them, but that’s not true.

Ever since he had gotten out of that horrid place, the cage they locked him in for something he didn’t do, the tortures walls he found himself to be for 3 traumatizing months, he had been different. That’s of course what one would expect, but you were hoping that with a bit of help and a lot of love, he would be alright. He wasn’t.

It started off with simple things, not wanting to touch you at all which you understood and naturally respected, staying longer at work, not being interested in what you had to say and not saying much himself either. It broke your heart seeing this empty and numb version of him, because that hollow person was supposed to be your husband.

It’s not like you didn’t try and help him get out of the dark place he was so obviously in. You have it your all, trying to get him to talk to you about what he’d been feeling, trying to make him feel some joy and normalcy but nothing worked. You were getting used to it. You were getting bored.

It was yet another night where you sat home alone, you wondered where he was, wondered if he was truly “working late” like he had so curtly informed you over text. Your mind couldn’t help but drift to all the possible things he could be doing instead of being here -- at home with his wife. God, it was unfair. You knew it was wrong to think such a thing after everything he had gone through, but couldn’t he see how you were struggling with him? How you needed him just as much as he refused to admit he needed you?

Finally as the hands on the clock showed 11:23 P.M., the door opened and Spencer walked in. His hair was unruly and a scowl that nowadays seemed to be permanent was present on his face. The tie, that you had tried to help him put on that morning but he had slapped away, hung loosely around his neck, laying unorderly on his button up shirt.

“Hi,” you said, cringing at the meekness and eagerness in your voice. Truth was this was probably the only conversation you guys were going to have for hours based on past events, so who could blame you?

“Hey,” he responded as he turned around to put his bag and shoes to rest next to the now closed door.

“How was your day?” you asked, trying to keep it simple as to not “scare him away”.

“Good.” Gosh you could roll your eyes at the bleakness of his unflavored answer.

“And how are you?” You tried again, hoping for more this time as you put the book you were reading down and unconsciously leaned towards him.

“I´m fine.” The smile on your face felt as faked as ever now, the corners of your mouth willing themselves remarkably to stay up.

“You, um- you promised you’d come home on time tonight, I made your favorite meal,” you hoped your tone didn’t sound accusatory -- the last thing you wanted was to make him upset. “It’s not like I’m in control of that.” The slight venom in his words made you almost physically flinch. He sighed exhaustedly before reluctantly muttering a small, “Sorry.”

“You going to bed?” he asked. You knew what that meant. Basically all the interactions between the two of you were short “hello´s”, heated arguments, and sex. He quite clearly wanted this short “hello” to turn into the third option. As painful as it is to admit, you were inclined to accept, to shut your mouth and go to bed. But you knew that if you did, it would be taking one step further into this dull life and marriage that now stood before your very eyes.

“No.” You shook your head as a small repeating of your response. “No? C´mon, I’ve had a long day,” he sighed again, tilting his head as he spoke, his frustration already to be seen on his face.

“I´m tired. And I just don’t want to.” You had by then made your decision; you were going to stand your ground.

“Just this once?” It was a weird thing to hear coming from his mouth, the one that had not so long ago, asked you again and again and again if you were “alright with this” and “sure”?

“It’s already been more than once, Spencer,” you couldn’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth -- they lay before you in a tense silence.

“What?” You couldn’t say what he was feeling at that moment, his tone directing your thoughts to a variety of different emotions -- none of which were positive.

“It’s nothing-,“ you started but quickly got cut off. “No, no, it’s not ´nothing`. You’re saying… you’ve slept with me multiple times when you didn’t want to?” His hazel eyes stared at you, the familiar comfort you had once known in them gone – you tried to convince yourself it was just the dim light of the living room but at the back of your mind you knew it wasn’t.

“I…” you didn’t know what to say, all thoughts leaving your brain as he looked at you in horror. All but one; he cared. “W- Why?” He studied you intently, taking in the way your body slightly curled in on itself when his voice seemed to raise. God, he really didn’t mean to.

“Well… I just thought if I could at least give you this whenever you wanted… you wouldn’t leave. It’s not like we do much else together – that and fighting.” You admitted as you felt tears prick up in your eyes. He motionlessly stood in shock -- you could almost hear how loud his thoughts were from where you were sitting on the couch.

“…But I can’t do it anymore,” you murmured when the silence that took over the room got too much for you to bear, “I can’t keep giving you every piece of me while you…” you trailed off, feeling a gnawing feeling settle in your chest, a feeling of wrongdoing. He was struggling, you shouldn’t be doing this.

“I’m honestly getting bored of trying to get you to acknowledge me.” You watched with solemn eyes as his long legs took rushed strides so that he ended up by your side. He bent his legs, squatting down in front of you. That fear from before was still in his expression but now accompanied regret.

“I… I’m so sorry,” His hands came up to cup your face, as he tried to figure out how to word the immense amount of emotions coursing through him.

“I’m sorry, baby, I- I never meant to hurt you… I know I haven’t been in a good headspace lately. I’m going to try, okay? I’m so sorry.” He pulled you towards his chest and you immediately accepted the gesture, burying your face in his messy shirt as you started to sob.

“I just-,” you sputtered between sniffles and sobs, “I wish- I wish you would love me like you used to, love me just for being me.”

“I do, I do, I really do,” he tried to reassure you, his voice breaking. “I’ve been a mess and I’ve been mean, but I love you just as much as I did before. No, more. I love you. I love you so damn much.”

The rest of the night consisted of him repeating that phrase, that truth as he cradled you against his chest, and talking about the ways things had been, how they should be in the future – can be – will be. And as you woke up, opening your tired eyes and turning to the side, your eyes met him – your husband.

And for the first time in months, that brought a bright smile to your face.

[ksywoo]

(not so) secret | m.jh

pairing: idol!myung jaehyun x fem!reader pronouns: none used except one use of "noona" towards reader (sorry I had to) word count: 1.3k genre: secret relationship, reader is friends with bnd and secretly dating jaehyun, sappy fluffy lovely sleepy myungjae, bnd is not as oblivious as they think (except woonbaby) warnings: kissing, reader is called noona once, reader spent the night in jaehyuns dorm but nothing explicit is implied or written note: I finally caved. I adore bnd with my whole being and the desire to write for them finally won.

masterlist

“Jaehyun!” 

You wake up startled by the sound of Taesan calling for Jaehyun outside his door. He knocks on the door and tries opening it, but Jaehyun had the forethought to lock it last night, not wanting the possibility of the boys seeing you in his room. 

Jaehyun groans and buries his face in your neck, despite you trying to sit up.

“Come on, we’ll be late!” Taesan calls, emphasizing his urgency with more knocking.

“I’m up, I’m up!” Jaehyun called back sleepily, but his eyes were closed as he pulled you into his chest. You could hear Taesan walk away, which eased your worry about being caught. 

You laugh sleepily and look up at your boyfriend. “You need to go, baby.” 

He peeks at you through one eye and pouts. “Why?”

“Because you’re the leader,” you coo.

“I’ll hand over the position to Woonhak, then.” 

“You trust the future of the group in Woonhak’s hands?” 

He looks past you as he thinks before frowning. “Maybe Sungho, just to be safe?” 

You shrug with him but kiss his cheek. “Get up.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be begging me to stay here?” he asks, pouting his lip before kissing your nose. “You don’t like me enough?” 

“I like you enough to tell you to go to your meeting. I know if I ask you to stay you will never leave,” you tease as he tries getting comfy again. “Come on, Myung. Part of the agreement of me sleeping over was you promised to be on time to your meeting.”  

He hums with a smile as he finally stands up and starts getting ready. You start getting up too but he looks at you, offended. “Where are you going?” 

“Home? I’ll leave after you guys so they don’t see me.” 

“Oh…” he trails off and turns back to getting ready. 

“What did you have in mind?” you sing, grabbing his waist and hugging him from your seat on his bed. 

“I figured… I mean, I’ll only be gone for a few hours,” he starts softly, not looking at you. “You can… stay here if you want? That way you’re here when I get back and, like, we can go back to sleep or just hang out.” 

You don’t answer for a moment, not wanting to shut him down but worried about several things. “What if one of your managers comes over while you’re gone?” 

He shakes his head. “They won’t. Technically today is supposed to be a day off so they promised to leave us all alone once this meeting is over. That means they also are trying to keep the meeting as short as possible.” 

“Hyung!” Taesan calls again, more impatiently.

“One second!” Jaehyun whines back before looking back at you.

You wait to hear Taesan leave again before whispering. “What if there’s no way for me to escape without being seen later?” 

“Taesan and Woonhak are going shopping this afternoon and they would never miss that. It’ll just be us here.”  

“You sure you won’t be in trouble?” 

He nods quickly. “I promise. Even if a manager did come over, they won't go into our rooms so you’ll be fine staying in here.” 

You smile and he mirrors you. “Okay. I’ll stay.” 

He tackles you down on the bed and cheers softly, keeping in mind that his members are still outside. He peppers your face with kisses as you laugh, pushing him off. 

“Come on, you need to leave before Taesan comes back and breaks down your door.”

“I’ll be back before you know it! Sleep well, baby,” he says, kissing you softly before slipping out of his room. 

You curl back up in his blankets, still warm, and easily fall back asleep as you hear them leave the dorm. 

When you wake up a few hours later, you’re thirsty. You look for any texts from Jaehyun warning about returning but only find a cheesy good morning text from him. You press your ear to his door, listening for movement but hear nothing, so you creep out and quickly pour a cup of water. As you’re gulping down the water, you hear the front door chime as someone enters the door code. You panic, scrambling to set the cup down in the sink and book it back to Jaehyun’s room, but you aren’t fast enough. Just as you touch the handle, you hear Woonhak scream. 

“Ah!!!” he yells, followed by several people asking why he’s being so loud. “Noona?!? Wha– Why–?” 

Sungho’s voice joins in and you are hit with the knowledge that not only do Jaehyun’s roommates know you’re here, but the lower dorm does too.

You admit your defeat, turning around slowly to face the six boys who are looking at you with mixed amounts of confusion and realization. 

“Hey…” you wave awkwardly. 

You look at Jaehyun and he’s clearly embarrassed, but also smiling like an idiot at you while covering his face behind Riwoo.

There’s a moment of silence before Leehan bursts out laughing, unable to control himself as he falls to the floor. Sungho tries to scold him with a light kick, but it’s ineffective since he’s also smiling. 

“We decided to all have lunch together today, Yn,” Riwoo announces as he and Jaehyun lift the bags in their hands. “Care to join us?” 

You’re taken aback by their casualness before realizing they must have figured you and Jaehyun out long ago. “Uh…” 

“Wait, why are you here?” Woonhak asks again as the others brush past him. “What’s going on?” 

Okay, maybe all of them but Woonhak. 

“Come on, Woonie, come help me set the table,” Sungho says as he pulls the youngest by the shoulder. 

“What! Why is no one else confused??” 

Everyone disperses, going to help get out dishes or prepare the meal while Jaehyun and Taesan walk towards you. Jaehyun looks apologetic, while Taesan looks like he’s having the best time. 

“Stop making him late,” Taesan orders playfully. “You two are not subtle at all, I knew you were in there making him not want to leave.” 

“I’m the only reason he actually got up today,” you poke back proudly. “You should thank me.”

He shakes his head but is smiling as he walks back to the kitchen. 

Jaehyun stands in front of you with his hands clasped together. “I’m so sorry. I meant to text you when we left but Leehan kept trying to look at my messages and then I got distracted when we started talking about lunch, and I promise I was trying to convince everyone to eat downstairs but they insisted because Sungho didn’t believe it was clean–”

“Because of me,” you added.’

“Well, yeah, because you helped me clean. But now I’m thinking he knew and wanted to catch you over here.”

“Myung, it’s okay,” you promise. “You’re the one who wanted to keep it from them.”

“Only because they have big mouths and will tease me about it.” 

“That would require you to have shame.” 

He pauses for a moment before his face lights up. “Wait, that’s true! What’s there to tease? That I’m hopelessly in love with you?” 

You freeze and he stops when he realizes what he said. “You love me?” you ask, a small smile tugging at your mouth.

He doesn’t hesitate to nod. “Yeah, I do. I love you. You don’t have to–”

“I love you too.” 

“Really?” 

“You think I would help you clean this nasty apartment if I didn’t?” 

He giggles and kisses your cheek. “Yeah, you really gave it away when you started washing the huge pile of dishes. Do you want to stay and have lunch with us? I promise you won’t have to do dishes.” 

“You might not have shame, but I do. We’re going to get teased so bad.” 

“But I ordered your favorite.” 

“Okay, fine,” you agree, kissing him quickly. 

As you pull away, you heard a loud gasp from the kitchen. “WAIT, ARE YOU TWO DATING?”

Leehan giggles and pats the youngest's head. “Woonhak, literally everyone already knew that.” 

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Tim Drake: Ugly Duckling (dp x dc)

So this is the last day of pride month, and so also the last day of me trying to write as many LGBTQ+ canon dc characters. It’s been fun (and I got to read a whole bunch of comics which was actually much more fun than the first time I’d tried to read those!!)

Now even though this is the end of June, feel free to send an ask if you want me to write a blurb with any character. I make no promises, but I will very much try! (It might take a while especially if I’m in a Tumblr hibernation phase.)

Anyways, for the last day of pride month I wanted to do Tim Drake coz he’s dc’s main “it” gay girl. I’ve been working on this Dead Tired fic for ages, based on the post about Tim getting turned into a swan and meeting Danny, who as a prince has to give him a kiss to change him back (I can’t find the prompt but it was hilarious so this was my take on it).

Here’s the beginning of the fic:

Red Robin was on patrol duty, while Batman and Robin were following a lead on possible joker safehouses. All in all, It was a pretty quiet night with only two muggings, both low-energy as both perpetrator ran away as soon as a bat-shaped shadow moved. 

So Red Robin had spent most of the night chatting with Babs. He was grappling around town, as they started on the new date app they’d both found out Jason was using.

“I told him he can’t put only photos of his motorcycle but- wait I’m getting a call,” Oracle interrupted herself. Tim waited before the earpiece came to life again.

“Sorry to cut this short Red Robin, got a full-attention request from Canary. If you need anything, beep me, and Keep your coms open.”

“Bye, Oracle,” he said, and like that, Red Robin was alone once again.

 He stopped on Grand Avenue Station and just let himself take in Gotham. The city was beautiful at night, and Tim was itching for a camera. He seen hundreds of pictures of the city’s skyline but they always managed to be unique. The night sky may always be covered by dark clouds above, but Gotham had its own stars in the lights shinning on top of the skyscrapers. So lost in his thoughts, Tim was, he almost missed the soft noise that sounded behind him. The voice that sounded behind him was harder to miss.

“Wither away so late, Little Red Bird?”

Red Robin turned to see a tall woman standing half in the shadows

“Sorry, can I help you?” Answered the vigilante despite the bad feeling creeping up to him.

“I’d like to know where I can find your guardian,” the woman said, still in the shadows.

“You mean Batman?” He chanced.

The woman nodded and Tim resisted the urge to sigh.If this was another one of Bruce’s ill-advised fling, Tim was going to hack every electronic device the man had to play sex-eds on loops for at least a week.

“He’s busy at the moment.” Then feeling like he shouldn’t assume what the woman wanted Bruce for, he continued. “But if you need any help, I’ll do my best.”

The woman stepped forward, and Tim could see her better. Her face was bare, but her distinctive outfit seemed to indicate she was some kind of vigilante-slash-criminal. The outfit did, in fact, ring a bell in the back of his mind, but it was dim. Tim didn’t tense up, but he did angle his body in a way to accommodate for a better escape through grappling. She continued walking until she was within arm’s reach of Tim, towering over him. She extended a hand to lightly caress his cheek, and Tim went still at the touch.

“Such a kind Little Bird you are,” she said gently. “You know, you remind me of my daughter.” She sighed. “Oh, what pretty children you both are.”

“Thank you,” said Tim as he sidestepped out of the way. “I’m sure she’s a lovely person.”

“Oh she was,” the woman said and through his growing wariness, Tim spared a thought for the girl. “She had dark hair and the fairest skin, just like you. The most beautiful girl in the land some would even say.”

That niggling feeling came back as a feeling of familiarity poked at him once again. “You must’ve been very proud.”

The woman let out an airy laugh before saying playfully/contemplating. “mustn’t I?”

A shiver ran down his back. Alright, there was something wrong with this woman, and Tim wasn’t waiting around to find out what. Not without any information or backup.

“Well, if there’s nothing I can do for you, I really have to get going,” Tim said as he took out his grapple gun. In a second, the gun was ripped from his hand , and he was slammed to the side of the staircase leading up to the roof. He let out a gasp at the impact and his features tensed in pain. The woman hadn’t even touched him.

“Not so fast, Little Bird. We don’t want you going back to the Batman just yet.  I’m not ready to make him my Knight yet.”

“Your knight?” Tim managed to get out. He tried to move his arms, but some unseen force was pinning him in place. Shit, that meant he couldn’t reach the comm to send out a distress signal. Hopefully Babs would check in soon.

The woman smiled as she approached him once again. “What better for a Queen, than a Dark Knight?”

And just like that it clicked. “You’re the Queen of Fables.” 

“Well look at this, you’ve got the brains and the beauty,” she teased, her voice as smooth as honey.

“What do you want with Batman?” Tim asked though he could guess from previous encounters she had had with the Justice League that the villainess wanted to turn Bruce into a fairytale character of some sort. She’d done the trick on Clark, and twice on Diana, so it was probably Batman’s turn now. So, yes, Tim could guess, But the longer he kept her talking the more time he had to figure out a way out of this.

“I told you, he’ll be a Knight of the Queen,” She extended a hand and tilted Tim’s face up. “Do you know what that would make you Little Bird?” 

Most villains assumed the batclan worked like a crime family. So the family of a knight? “Nobility,” Tim guessed, unsure where this was going.

“Exactly.” She smiled, and then she moved. Tim braced for the hit.

Instead of a punch though, he only felt a tingling sensation. Cautiously, he opened his eyes, only for them to grow bigger as he took in his uniform. Or the lack thereof.

He was in something-century clothing, in some sort of frilly shirt and pants, all in white. This was worse than a punch. Then, as the thought hit him, Tim’s hands flew to his face only to come in contact with the silky fabric of a masquerade mask. He sighed in relief, and as he calmed down, he realized he was now free of the force pinning him down.

“The color is for my daughter,” the Queen said. Then, she let her head fall to the side before tracing a line across his forehead and Tim could feel something like a circlet setting down on it. “There you go. Now, it’s perfect. You could practically be siblings.” 

“No thanks.,” Tim answered.

The Queen tsked him. “That’s no way to behave Little Bird, has nobody taught you to say thank you when you receive a gift.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” Tim disagreed mildly as he took stock of his weapons. Everything was gone, including the earpiece, which meant Babs had to have been alerted and someone was en route.

The Queen frowned. “I was going to be merciful, for you guardian’s sake, but I no longer feel generous.” She raised her hand and Tim tried to roll away, but the magic beam swerved and hit him in a blinding flash of light.

When he managed to open his eyes once again, the world seemed quite a bit bigger than it had been moments before. 

“What did you do to me?” He said. Or tried to say.

Instead a strange squawk echoed and Tim took a step back in surprise. However, he lost his balance and started to fall and as he tried to catch himself with his hand, two large white wings unfolded. He dropped down, which wasn’t as far as he would’ve estimated and laid stiff. He moved his left arm, and a white wing followed suit. 

Oh, no. Oh no no no.

A grating laugh interrupted his freak out. “There you are my pretty Little Bird, all better. White really is your colour, don’t you th-“

With a loud hiss, Tim propelled himself towards the woman. Making use of his newfound beak, he pecked and bit everything he could, as he flapped his wings.

“Blasted creature- Get off! Stop it, you despicable, puny-“ 

Finally she managed to grab Tim and throw him away from her. He landed with a squawk, but managed to get himself back to his feet quickly. “You little/awful brat,” she snarled. “You’ll pay for this!”

But as the Queen threw out her hand, something rippled in the air between them and the magic beam seem to explode midway into a green vortex. Tim’s clumsy attempt at waddling away had him head straight towards it, and it was in vain that he tried to redirect the course. She and Tim made eye contact as the swan-boy tipped right into the swirling green vortex, both of their eyes wide-open in surprise.

Danny was exhausted. He was currently on week one of the full month of Royal Duties he’d promised Clockwork. Being Prince of the Infinite Realm was not all that it was cracked up to be, and that was saying a lot since he had already been expecting it to be awful. 

When Clockwork had made the request, Danny had proceeded to freak out about his new status, and then tried to abdicate. It was only the master of time reminding him of all the terrible possible candidate for the throne per rites of combat (such as Vlad) that stopped him from washing his hands of this mess. And now Danny was forced to spend one whole month of his summer vacation in the Ghost Zone to fulfill his duty as a Prince. 

He thought it would be some paperwork, maybe a battle or two, nothing too bad, but nooo. Because, of course nothing was easy, Danny had to show up at Events, and be Diplomatic. It was meeting, after meeting, after weird parties that were a mix between Medieval Banquets and Debutante balls. 

And worse of all were the marriage proposals. Danny could sorta understand, marrying into royalty was a definite plus for a lot of more powerful ghosts but when they called him a half-breed behind his back, only to smile in his face with a marriage contract in one hand and flowers in the other, that was where he drew the line. 

Plus there was also the fact that he was, like sixteen.

Suffice to say, Danny was exhausted and hiding out in Pariah Dark’s old castle as a last resort. It wasn’t his favorite place all in all, but the gardens were absolutely beautiful, which was where he was walking. He was currently headed to the hedge maze, since it was the best way to get rid of any tails he may or may not have. 

The maze was nasty if it didn’t like you, and it didn’t like anybody but Danny, and even then, it still tried to take a bite every once in a while. Despite the snaking vines and roots trying to capture anything that moved, the flowers that wailed softly when disturbed or the sharp thorns of the hedge plants themselves, it was still a beautiful place. Uniquely, the closer you got to the centre, the more colorful (and dangerous) everything got, which was why he liked it best. 

He reached the centre much quicker than the first time he tried, thanks to the maze actually helping him, and something pale caught his eye right in the middle of the open area, right next to the bench Danny loved to use. As he got closer, he realized it was a swan laying on the floor, seemingly unconscious.

“Oh no,” Danny said as he approached. “What happened to you?”

As if awakened by the sound of his voice, the swan started to shift, its wings twitching and it rose its head groggily. As soon as it clocked in Danny, it let out a surprised squawk, followed by a long hiss as it struggled to move away.

“Hey, hey, none of that, Duckie, you’re ok.” Danny raised his hands placatingly. “I don’t want to harm you, ok? I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

The hiss subsided by a bit, but that may have only be due to the swan managing to get further away.

“Sh, sh, it’s ok,” Danny repeated as he slowly inched forward. The swan stopped hissing but still observed him warily. “I don’t want to hurt you Duckie, but I do think we’d better get you out of this maze.”

Danny took another step, and this time the swan stayed still. “How about bringing you back to my rooms just for now.” The swan hissed louder at the statement. “Don’t worry Duckie, I’m not keeping you prisoner it’s just this maze has been known to eat people. And you’re too pretty to be eaten,” Danny flashed a smile at the swan which had it stare back with a gaze saying really?

“So what do you say, wanna crash at my place?” Danny asked. The swan didn’t move forward but he didn’t move away either.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t trust a guy who talks to birds either,” Danny allowed. “And the place where I’m staying is a little gloomy, so I don’t blame you, but I can’t leave you here. The maze is honestly really dangerous, especially for a nice bird is like you. “

The swan seemed to hesitate before it hesitantly made its way to Danny. Ghost animals were usually smart but the swan seemed to understand English, which made communicating that much easier. Danny smiled and opened his arms. “I can carry you.” The swan just looked at him, with what Danny would’ve thought was a deadpan stare. “It would go much faster.”

If the swan was human it probably would’ve sighed, but instead, its wings just fell a little before it waddled towards Danny and looked up as if to say ‘get on with it’.

Danny smiled and gathered the animal in his arms. “Buckle up,” he said before flying off towards the maze exit, which was accompanied by a low hiss. Making sure there was nobody there to ambush him, Danny made it back to the castle in record time.

“Here we are Duckie.” Danny set the swan back down and it plopped down on the ground and just steadied themselves for a while.

Tim was a swan. He had wings and no fingers, and his feet were webbed.

He was handling it though. By which Tim meant he was shelving the impending panic attack for later when he wasn’t stuck in a swan body. 

Ok, so he’d been turned by the Queen of Fables, so there had to be an answer in a fairytale,a way to make him normal again. He knew the ugly duckling story. That had a swan in it, right? He didnt know any other swan stories, except maybe as a dish during the wedding banquet of whichever princess. He vaguely remembered a Barbie movie that had passed on the TV when he was younger but the only thing that came to mind were a scary-looking Troll thing, and ballet.  So with lack of better alternatives he was going to go with the ugly duckling. The ugly duckling’s happy ending was reuniting with family, so maybe all he needed was to make his way back to Gotham.

“Are you ok?” 

And that was another thing. The guy. The one Tim had at first wanted to get away from. He seemed nice and all, but he also had neon green eyes, and fangs. Unfortunately, while they suited the boy very well, they also marked him as an unknown. 

On the other hand, if the glowing portal wasn’t enough of an indication, the green tinge of everything around was clear indicator that Tim wasn’t in Kansas anymore. The guy seemed to want to help him, and having an ally wherever he was could only help.

Tim nodded as best as he could with his long weird neck, and he had to take a few steps to regain balance.

“That’s good,” the boy smiled with his white pointy canine. “How did you end up in the middle of that maze?”

Tim just looks back tiredly. He didn’t know how to even try and explain when he couldn’t say a word and had no opposable thumbs.

“Yeah, sorry.” The boy winced. “Maybe stick to yes or no questions.”

There was a sharp knock at the door that had the boy turning away.

“Prince Phantom!” A voice rung through the door.

Prince? 

The newly-dubbed Prince Phantom got up to open the door, “yes, what can I do for you?”

“Your meeting with Queen Dora is approaching. Do you still prefer to forgo an escort guards?” a purple lady was saying.

“I’ll be fine without, Maj but thank you very much,” Phantom answered with a polite smile.

“I’ll pass it along, my Prince.” She bowed and closed the doors behind her.

Phantom walked back to lay on the bed with a sigh. “I really hate that they call me that.” He turned towards Tim to continue. “I bet swans don’t have royalty. You guys had the right idea.”

[m0nnypie]

HOT POLICEMAN

Warnings: sex car, unprotected sex, ass slaps, cum, pet names, squirt, Modern! Au, Police officer!Sanemi x Wife!Reader.

Sanemi fucks you in the police car!

a/n: SORRY FOR MY ENGLISH BABYS!! I promise I'll improve. SO, hope y'all like this.

You and Sanemi have known each other since childhood. You were there at his house when he decided to become a police officer after beating up a kid who had stolen his lollipop.

You were there when he had to clean up the wounds from the fights he got into. You were also there when he hit a kid who touched you.

You were there on the day he graduated, even though no one believed it was possible. You were there when he started studying to be a police officer, staying up until dawn with him to help him study.

You were there when he finally became a police officer. You managed to be there when he arrested his first criminal.

Or when he finally asked you to be his girlfriend and gave you a cat as a gift.

You were there, helping him pack his things to move into your house, because your apartment was bigger.

You were there when he decided he was going to ask you to marry him in a stupid way, with the help of your police partner.

And finally, there you were, walking down the aisle, seeing how nervous he was. When they finally said “you may kiss.” You would always be there, by his side.

“Excuse me, ma’am, but you’re in serious trouble. I recommend you cooperate and put your hands behind your back.”

You rolled your eyes hard, knowing exactly who that voice belonged to. As soon as you turned around, you could see the white-haired man with his hands on his hips, while looking you up and down.

I mean, who could blame him? You were wearing a short floral dress that showed off your breasts very well, highlighting every curve of your body.

“You’re stupid, you know that?” You crossed your arms, and a frown appeared on your face. It soon disappeared when you felt him pull you towards him, while he grabbed your waist and looked at you with a smile that always melted you.

“If you keep this up… I’m going to have to hold you for contempt, you know that?” He said amusedly, only taking his hand off you to dangle the handcuffs in your face.

You didn’t need much to understand exactly what he meant by that. A smile automatically appeared on your face. You loved it when he used the advantages of being a police officer with you. It was exciting.

“Oh, is that right, officer? What are you going to do? Hmm?” You said as you traced your finger along his chest. You only saw a small smile form on his face. You knew exactly what was coming.

Anyone who passed by that car would be able to hear the noises that were being made there, or even the rocking of the car, which was moving at a fast pace.

Inside the car there you were, completely naked and on all fours in the back seat, handcuffed with your hands behind your back. While trying your best not to moan, which was difficult, since the man you call your husband was thrusting so hard that you thought you might pass out from the pleasure.

You felt a strong slap, which made a moan escape your mouth. A slap that would be remembered for the next few days. You were going to go crazy.

“If you moan one more time… I’ll throw you out of this car, do you understand me?”

He pulled your hair so you could face him. You tried to answer him, but you knew that if you opened your mouth, only moans would come out.

“If you don’t tell me that you understand with words, I’ll have to stop, my dear…”

“I-I understand….hmm.. Sanemi, love…that feels so good…”

You rolled your eyes as you felt how deep he was in your wet pussy. You started to drool with pleasure. He started to go faster, mistreating your entrance and making it red with the force he used.

“Shit, honey, your pussy is squeezing me so well, I’m going to cum if you keep going like this.”

He slapped your ass again, making you bite your hand so you wouldn’t moan. Along the way, he ended up grabbing your waist with both hands and started to go faster as he felt he was going to cum.

It didn’t take long for you to feel his hot cream filling you completely. He threw his head back, as he let out a grunt of pleasure and squeezed your waist.

“Fuck…you’re so hot…”

“Sanemiiii…I haven’t cum yet…”

Fuck. He could have cum just from the pout you were making now, you looked so pathetically hot begging to cum. And how could he refuse? He pulled out without any care for you, making you moan from the lack of something inside you. You saw him start to get dressed, was he really going to leave you without cumming?? Seriously?

“What are you waiting for? Sit up straight... I'm going to devour that pussy of yours in a way that you'll never forget”

You quickly settled on the bench and spread your legs for the man. The sight made him salivate, you were completely wet. He wasn't sure if it was from your excitement, or if it was the cum he had just put in you. Obviously he took off the handcuffs first, he didn't want you complaining for the rest of the week that he didn't let you touch him.

So he kneeled in front of you, trying to adjust himself in the small space. He licks your pussy, tasting all the juices it contains, being able to taste yours and his together, as it should be.

He put his arms under your thighs and grabbed them tightly. He started sucking your clit hard, making a sucking noise that made you dizzy with pleasure. You started grabbing his hair and pulling. You felt like you were going to cum just from that.

He ran his tongue all over your pussy, from the outer lips to the inner lips. He stuck his tongue in your tight hole. You started moaning loudly and thrusting your hips towards his face. Until you felt him pinching your thigh.

“Quiet brat, or I’ll stop.”

You knew he was serious, so you held on as hard as you could to keep from moving. But it was so hard, so hard to stay still when you felt him enter you with his own tongue, sucking your clit hard, while he never took his eyes off you. You wanted it to end so badly, you felt like you were going to die if you didn’t cum soon.

When you felt the familiar sensation of contraction, you knew you were going to cum. You started squeezing your breasts. With your head back, you closed your eyes and let yourself go. As soon as the peak of your orgasm arrived, you arched your back until you couldn't anymore and screamed.

As soon as you calmed down a little, to at least sit up straight and start breathing. You saw your husband surprised, which made you frown.

"What's wrong??"

"Of every time we've had sex, this is the first time you've squirted. And I loved it."

That made you laugh. Sometimes you forgot how stupid he could be. After that, he cleaned you up with a wet wipe that he always kept in the car, and drove you home. After all, he would never leave you alone in that state, right?

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Loose Lips — Part Two (Eris Vanserra x Reader)

Finally got round to writing a part two to this after a sudden burst of inspiration. Here is Part One if you missed it.

This isn't proofread, so sorry if it's a pile of dicks. Enjoy!

Warnings: smuttysmutsmut 🌶️

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･

The forest was undoubtedly beautiful. A place of sure serenity. Somewhere you’d always found peace.

Right now, you felt like nothing short of a thunderbolt in its flawless midst.

You shifted on your feet for what felt like the millionth time, pressing your back against a tree and crossing your arms over your chest. You wouldn’t be able to relax until this meeting was over with.

Rhysand’s violet eyes flicked over you, and he frowned. “Are you alright? Why are you so restless?”

Because we’re here to meet with Eris and the last time I did that I somehow, kind of, maybe ended up fucking him—

“Fine.” You quickly answered. “Pain. My cycle is coming.”

Rhys’s eyes softened. “We’ll make this as quick as possible. Once the prick actually deigns to show up.”

You didn’t have a shred of doubt that Eris’s tardiness was deliberate — a power play. And he could play all the games he liked, so long as he kept his damn mouth shut.

As if you’d summoned him with a thought, the Autumn male appeared out of a chill-kissed breeze, his crackling-fire-and-cinnamon scent enveloping you. You tried desperately to block it out — and the sinful thoughts that accompanied it. Of bare skin. Panting breaths. Moans—

“Afternoon.” Eris smirked, sliding his hands into his pockets. He offered Rhysand a cursory glance before turning his attention on you. “You’re looking radiant today, Y/N.”

You pursed your lips. Kept your mouth shut. You weren’t getting into it with him — weren’t giving him any ammunition to spill the truth of what had transpired a month earlier.

His lips twitched as he studied you. “What, no smartass response?”

“Cut the shit, Eris.” Rhys rolled his eyes. “Share your information so we can get out of here. We don’t wish to be subjected to your tedious company for any longer than is necessary.”

He cocked his head, and you hated that you noticed he’d cut his hair since you’d last seen him. “Do you not like my company?”

You knew his words were directed at you. He’d come here to play games, and you were having none of it. He allowed his gaze to linger on you for a second longer before turning to your High Lord.

“Well?” Rhys cocked an eyebrow.

Eris folded his arms. “The King of Hybern…”

You didn’t allow yourself to hear the rest of his sentence. For the first time in your career as Rhysand’s courtier, you tuned out, taking in none of the information that was being given. You didn’t hear a word of their discussion as you stared fiercely at a fallen leaf on the ground. You couldn’t.

Because it tortured you on a daily basis that you knew what the redhead’s voice sounded like when he was falling off that precipice into blissful release. The way it had hitched when he’d groaned deeply and spilled into you. It was all you could think about, and you couldn’t bear it.

Guilt had eaten away at you ever since. Guilt and regret. You should never have given yourself to Eris fucking Vanserra.

You only felt safe enough to tune back in when Rhys turned his gaze on you. He gave a subtle dip of his chin, and you returned it — the signal the two of you shared when you’d gleaned useful information to tuck away.

Never mind the fact that you didn’t have a single clue what that information may be.

“Alright, then.” Rhys spoke tersely to the Autumn lord. “Keep me updated. I’ll be in touch when I next need to meet with you.”

“Will it be you, High Lord?” Eris’s lips turned up. He glanced at you. “Or her? I must say, I find her far more appealing to look at.”

“I’ll keep it a surprise. Something to look forward to in your sad little life.” Rhys turned to you, holding out a hand. “Ready?”

You shook your head. “You go. I promised Madja I’d collect some herbs for her while I’m here.”

A small, pathetic part of you wanted to beg Rhys to stay; to keep you company and not leave you alone with Eris. But he was a busy male — far too busy for the drama you’d created for yourself. You plastered a smile on your face.

“I’ll see you at home, then.” He smiled. And without a goodbye to your tentative ally, he disappeared before your eyes.

Eris smirked as he turned to you. “And then there were two.”

“Leave me alone.” You pulled your foraging knife out, turning on your feet. You didn’t look back as you began to kick through leaves and twigs.

But, of course, he was hot on your trail. “That’s not a very nice thing to say to somebody who made you cum not once, not twice, but three times.”

You clenched your jaw, ignoring him as you knelt down in front of a cluster of plants. You would do better this time. You wouldn’t allow your mouth to run you down a path you couldn’t come back from.

He didn’t make it easy, though. Not as you tried to focus yourself solely on gathering the herbs Madja had listed. Despite the lack of conversation — or even acknowledgement of him — Eris pressed himself against a tree and watched you, absentmindedly cleaning his nails with the point of a dagger.

How could you ever have fallen into bed with him? You were such a damn idiot, risking everything for a few fleeting moments of passion. You tucked the herbs neatly away, pushing to your feet and brushing dirt and leaves from your breeches. You turned—

And stopped as Eris appeared in front of you. He smirked. “I’m still waiting, Y/N.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For you to thank me for not spilling your dirty little secret.”

Prick. You shoved past him, ignoring his warmth, his scent.

He was at your side in seconds. “Aren’t you so relieved that I didn’t slip up and tell Rhysand about your little ride? I still could.”

Every last drop of your sensibility fizzled out. You couldn’t stop yourself from rounding on him. “Are you truly in a position to be threatening me? Both of us fucked up that night. What do you think Beron would have to say if he found out you’d bedded someone from the Night Court, of all places?”

“My father doesn’t care who I bed. I’m free to do whatever I please, so long as it doesn’t distract me from the ultimate goal.”

“Which is what, exactly?”

His amber gaze glittered, catching the sun. “World domination.”

You rolled your eyes. “How very cliche.”

You made to push past him again, to get the fuck out of there, but his hand was suddenly gripping onto yours. In seconds, he had you pressed against the body of a tree.

You clenched your jaw. “Get. The hell. Away from—”

The remainder of the sentence didn’t have a chance to so much as form as Eris’s mouth found yours.

The press of his kiss was hot and needy, and as his lips moulded with yours, he groaned.

It was that action that made you realise just how little space existed between your bodies. His hips were pinned to yours, keeping you in place, and the warmth of him seeped into you as your breasts brushed his chest. Within seconds — mere seconds of him kissing you — you felt him harden in his breeches. His groan seemed to vibrate through every part of him and into you.

And then he was tearing his lips from yours. Staring down at you. “Fuck, you taste amazing. I’ve thought about nothing but this,” he rolled his hips against you, making sure your attention went exactly where he wanted it, “for over a month, now. Tell me you’ve been just as crazed.”

You had been. Perhaps more so. But you swallowed. “I can’t.”

That didn’t deter Eris from slanting his lips over yours again. His tongue swiped out, brushing against the seam of your lips, and you were powerless against your need as you opened your mouth and allowed him to dip in.

You gasped at the first taste of him; something cool and crisp and smoky. And you knew you were done fighting, telling yourself you didn’t want this, as you grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and hauled him more firmly against you.

He grunted as the hard evidence of his arousal pressed against your stomach. His lips slid from yours, dragging slowly over your cheek, and then the cut of your jaw, down to your neck.

“You’ll be the death of me.” He panted, pressing quick, chaste kisses to the hollow of your throat. “Tell me to stop.”

You swallowed, knowing there was no chance in hell of that. “No.”

And that single word — as much as it pained you to say it — dragged such a delicious, guttural noise from him, that you forgot entirely about who you were and why this was wrong. Nothing else mattered in that moment other than what Eris was doing.

Your mouth went so very, very dry as he pulled away to meet your gaze. And then lowered himself to his knees before you.

He was utterly uncaring of the dirt and leaves that stuck to his breeches as he clasped your legs. And the hard press of his hands felt scorching through your own pants. You wouldn’t be surprised to find that he’d turned the clothing to mere ash he dragged his palms up the backs of your legs and cupped your ass.

“You’re fucking mouthwatering.” He dipped in, pressing a kiss to your stomach through your shirt. “I need to taste you.”

“Holy gods.” You cursed, your head falling back against the tree. “Do it, then.”

Like a male entirely starved and desperate, his nimble fingers moved to the buttons on your breeches, making quick work of getting them undone. The second they were loosened enough, he yanked them down with a feral command that had heat rushing between your legs.

And he could scent that. You knew it. He inhaled deeply, and his responding moan was sinful.

“This is wrong.” Your voice was weak, useless, as your head fell back.

“So wrong.” Eris hooked his fingers into the thin waistband of your undergarments. Tugged them down..

You made no move to stop him. “And stupid. And selfish. And—”

Your words turned into a moan as he dipped in and dragged his tongue up the very centre of you.

A satisfied grunt left him, and he lifted your leg, hoisting it over his shoulder. It had you at a better angle, closer to him, so he could feast on you.

And feast, he did.

His mouth and tongue were renowned for wielding wicked, barbed words, but this was a different language entirely. His fingers dug into your legs as he buried himself between your thighs, licking and lapping and fucking devouring. He made his way up, scraping teeth over your clit, the sensation both pleasant and unpleasant. Before you had a chance to react, he soothed over the area with the pad of his tongue, and a bolt of white-hot pleasure surged through you.

“Oh, gods.” Breathy words escaped your lips. Thank the Mother above for the mammoth tree at your back that gave you the support to move as you wished to move, undulating your hips, grinding against Eris’s face.

And from the way he growled and feasted on you harder, you knew he liked it. He was becoming coated in you, painting himself with your wetness. With the roll of your hips picking up pace, he didn’t falter once.

“Look at you.” He breathed, eyes flicking up to drink you in. “You’re a fucking vision.”

“Stop talking and make me—oh.”

Your hips bucked as he slid a finger into you, the friction of his callused skin like a sinful bite you wanted more of. You didn’t know if you vocalised that, or if Eris simply read you well, but he quickly added a second finger, pumping them in and out.

“Just as you felt around my cock that night.” He panted. “Squeezing me like that.”

You threaded your fingers through his hair, needing to just…to just grab onto something. He seemed to like it as you pulled, and he thrust his fingers faster in return.

“I’m going to make you come on my fingers.” His tongue stroked at you. “And again on my cock.”

Somewhere, some steeled part of you wanted to give a smartass retort. But you were far too gone, splintering into tiny shards of pleasure against that tree. There was nothing, in that moment, besides the sensations Eris Vanserra dragged from between your thighs. No long-lived feuds or tentative alliances or right or wrong.

It was just him. His fingers. His tongue.

And it sent you hurtling right off that blissful cliff edge into release.

As you came, you thought you maybe shouted loud enough to frighten the birds from the trees. Your pleasure was a fearsome force as it stormed your body, your mind, your soul, until you weren’t sure who you’d be without it. How you could survive not experiencing this weightlessness again.

And Eris…he seemed to enjoy your pleasure as much as you did. Even though his cock strained through his breeches, touched by nothing but torturous fabric, his tongue and fingers continued to guide you through your climax, and he peppered in filthy, scandalous words that you were far too fractured to make sense of.

Until he pulled back to look up at you again. “I’ve wanted you since the second I first saw you.” He said.

You weren’t sure you could deny, any longer, that this truly had been going on for that long. It didn’t start with that one night of bad decisions driving you into bed with him. It had been years and years of thinly-veiled threats and barbed words and insults and vitriol soaked in lust.

Every bit of hatred you’d ever directed at each other had been to try and avoid this — giving in to a carnal need that had existed between you since the first ever time your eyes had met.

You knew you didn’t have that strength, that resolve, anymore.

“I need you inside me.” Your voice was rough, raw. You reached down, shamelessly yanking Eris to his feet by the fabric of his jacket, not caring that your desperation showed. “Fuck me.”

You wanted it — him — hot and hard and fast and certainly not gentle. You wanted the bark of the tree biting into you as he pounded you from behind. You wanted him roaring as unguarded as you had.

“You’re a little brat.” Was all he responded. And then he was kissing you again.

You allowed him the control of your lips as your fingers tore at the front buttons on his breeches. Nothing was moving fast enough, and you were hot all over, desperate to feel him pulsing deep inside you—

Y/N. I need you back here.

Rhysand’s voice in your head was akin to be plunged in ice-cold water. Damn daemati. You froze in place, your hands falling still.

Eris didn’t seem to notice as he kissed his way along your jaw.

Y/N. Rhys spoke into your mind again. Get back as soon as you can. Need to discuss Azriel’s report.

You sucked in a breath, planting your hands on Eris’s arms. You pushed him off you. “I have to leave.”

He paused, surprise crossing his face. “What?”

“I can’t — I’m needed back home.” Clarity was dawning on you more and more, paired with guilt. You’d fucked up again. You tried to shake the feeling off as you yanked your underwear and breeches up in one go. “I can’t do this.”

“Seriously?” Eris cocked an eyebrow. “You’re leaving now?”

It was an effort not to glance down at the very unsatisfied bulge still pressing through his breeches. “Rhys just spoke into my thoughts. He needs me back.”

“How convenient.”

Of course he didn’t believe you. You had to admit, it didn’t look great — getting an earth-shattering orgasm out of him and then leaving.

But perhaps it was a blessing from the Mother. Perhaps she was stopping you taking it too far a second time.

“Believe what you want.” You pushed past Eris, buttoning your breeches up. “I answer to my High Lord first and foremost.”

“Go running back to him then.” Eris shrugged. And if you weren’t mistaken, you thought that a strange quality lay in his tone. Perhaps hurt, or…or jealousy. “He says jump and you say how high, right?”

“You have your High Lord, Eris,”  you smoothed over the wrinkles in your clothes, “and I have mine.”

He pressed his back against the tree, watching with an unreadable expression as you checked yourself over.

And then the corner of his mouth tipped up. “You’ll be back, sweetheart.”

You shot him a glance over your shoulder. “That is a very, very bad idea.”

You winnowed out of there before he could respond.

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

03 — MY COMPASS, MY TRANSPORT

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3.

<- previous part | next part ->

“I have nothing else to live for.”

It’s a truth. A deep, earnest one – and it’s the only option you have.

Without Graves, without your Shadows, you have nothing. No income, no family, no support. You're left with the clothes on your body and the shoes in which you stand, with no hope of finding your footing.

In the darkness, the only light shines from the headlights of the truck, and the red of the radio. It’s silenced, of course, but it serves as a beacon of something between you all.

“I don’t – I have no other choice,” you say, voice trembling. You would not break in front of them, but you could feel yourself cracking; porcelain underneath a harsh grip. Turning yourself so you’re completely facing the two, your expression turns desperate. “I want to help you both, and I want to save Phi– Graves.”

You correct yourself at the final moment, wary of your slip up.

“Save ‘im? From what? Feckin’ charges for war crimes? Getting his ass handed to ‘im?” Soap chokes out, incredulous, eyes wide where they meet yours. He winces when he moves forward too quick, straining his arm.

“He’s…” You look down at your hands, merely watching for a moment as they close into a fist and open again. Blood crusts underneath your fingernails. “He’s all I have. I’m sure he just needs a wake up call, someone to snap him out of it.”

“He tried to kill us,” Ghost speaks up, matter-of-fact, but quiet. As if at any moment, his words will wake up the entire city. If there were any civilians left in it, you supposed. Your eyes burn with unshed tears.

“...And I had to kill some of my men.”

It’s a confession of sin. Like poison on your tongue, yet at the same time, an anecdote to an evil in your veins. You’d killed your men. You’d… done that.

You still haven’t quite allowed yourself to realise it, not yet.

But if it’s enough to keep you alive right now, so be it. You hadn’t gotten this far just to give up over something as inconsequential as pride.

“Ye will tell us everything you know about ‘im. And’ll help us until we figure out what to do. We’re our own bosses now, Sweetheart,” Soap commands, that fucking nickname of his seeming to stick. You don’t dispute it – not right now, not when this is quite literally life or death.

“I promise,” you say, resolute and stern. There was no time for self-pity or wallowing, only time for action and conviction – something you had in spades. “I’m yours for as long as you need me.”

You hadn’t known how true those words would be – not then, and not for a good while. But they were a prophecy, if such a thing could at all be possible for a woman like you.

Soap and Ghost share a look; a brief, yet important one, before Ghost gives the Scot a short nod. Soap turns once more to you, his face betraying the answer of their silent agreement.

“...So?” You suggest, impatient considering the consequences of the next few moments. 

Bringing a hand up to stroke at his stubbled chin, Soap makes an act of pretending to ponder – and it succeeds in stoking the flames at your core, fury burning through you like a liquor-soaked rope.

“I dunno, lass,” he says on a sigh, his ocean eyes betraying a mischief in their depths. “Yer kinda mean to me.”

You might choke him.

Actually, check that, you will choke him. He’s impossible – an arsehole to the nth degree – somehow worse than Ghost in his… foolishness? Was that the right word? Or just straight frustrating-ness?

Seeming to sense your thinning patience, Soap’s hand falls from his jaw with a mirthful smirk, proud of himself. 

“If ye say pretty please, ye can join our lil’ duo.” He finishes the statement off with a wink, and you don’t realise that your hands have curled into fists until the sharp pain of nails digging into your palms force you to resort back to your senses.

You let out a slow, loud breath. 

Neither of them move a muscle, except for the twitch of Soap’s dimple. You hate that you recognise such a small movement, but you easily blame it on the fact that it’s a drilled-in mentality.

“...Please,” you acquiesce, however quiet. 

Ghost’s eyebrow raises. How you’re aware of that, considering his mask, is a props to him. 

“That’s not what he asked for.” His voice is a low, husky thing, and the title of guard dog suddenly doesn’t sound so incorrect.

With your teeth gritted and cheeks straining, you mutter out, “Pretty please.”

Soap’s responding smile is nothing short of beaming, and you almost immediately wish that you could take those words back. Was death really so bad? Would it even be a mercy, compared to deciding to share a threadbare camaraderie with these weirdos?

Too bad time control isn’t exactly a well-researched military weapon.

“Let’s go then,” Ghost slaps his gloved hand against the steering wheel, before looking one last time towards you with purpose, “Sweetheart.”

Soap laughs.

You get out and slam the door in his face.

“Och! You feckin’ bastard, lass,” you hear him screech, before the door opens once more and Soap hops out, fuming.

Turning away, you fall behind Ghost, and quickly take a look around at the vast, empty area that is barren suburbia. Not before responding, however.

“Next time you get shot, I’m not taking care of your ass,” you threaten. “And I’m giving the rest of my sweets to Mr. Melodramatic.”

Soap’s returning mock gasp is, in all fairness, pretty comedic. “You have more sweets? Gimme those and ye lovely bedside manners ‘nd I’ll get a cavity!”

Your returning glare could cut steel. “Keep that up, and you’ll end up with bigger issues than a cavity.”

“I think ye are already the bigger issue,” Soap snaps back, but it’s not inherently malicious. It’s… borderline playful, and that sudden thought has you internally slapping yourself.

“Both of ya – quiet,” Ghost warns.

You both shut up immediately.

With wary steps, the three of you go to step up towards the front door, when Ghost swings out a hand, stopping the lot of you in your tracks. The night doesn’t allow for any of you to see well, but he must’ve picked up something that you hadn’t.

The thought is an immediately terrifying one.

“Pressure plates,” Soap murmurs under his breath, eyeing the square linoleum tile. “Nice catch, Lt.”

Ghost doesn’t respond, instead motioning for you to follow him towards a glassless window. Gravel crunches underneath your light footfalls, easily heard in the deathly quiet, as you move to swing your leg over the access point and drop to the floor inside.

Landing with a soft thud, you go to unfurl from your crouching position, before a loud warning shout from Ghost has you freezing.

Flinching where you stand, your eyes dart to where Ghost has flung one of his daggers, the sharp metal splintering a wooden beam further into the dark room. Realising that Soap sits at your flank, you shift your gaze to spot a red light focused in on his forehead – between his eyes.

“¿Quien esta ahi?” An unfamiliar, accented voice calls out from behind the beam. You could slap yourself for being so careless, in not realising that someone else was in here before Ghost had saved your arses. 

“Rodolfo!” Soap calls out, relief flooding his tone as he rights his position, shoulders back.

A man peeks out from behind the wood, eyes wide and slightly panicked, before they soften at the sight of the two men behind you. “Soap! Ghost! You’re alive!”

Stepping out from around the beam, he reaches for Ghost’s dagger, pulling it away from where it had dug into the oak with undeniable ease. His appearance is striking, with a set jaw and gentle features – he’s quite pretty, but not at all in a way that you find yourself attracted to the man.

“Affirmative,” Ghost responds, accepting the knife back when the man – Rodolfo – hands it to him hilt-first.

“Good to see you, amigos,” Rodolfo smiles, before his appraisal sets on you, confusion sparking in his deep brown eyes. He looks to the two men at your side for an explanation, hesitant in the way he does so.

“This is…” Soap trails off, before coming to a realisation. “Feckin’ hell. I never even asked for yer name, Sweetheart.”

Rodolfo blinks. Once, twice, before his eyebrows furrow and his mouth settles into an uncomfortable grimace.

You shoot a glare Soap’s way, before gifting Rodolfo a polite, yet stilted, smile. Extending your hand, you give him your name, and then your official title.

“Colonel? Graves’ colonel?” Rodolfo repeats back, utterly taken aback by such an introduction. He doesn’t seem to know what to do, quickly hissing to Soap in unamused Spanish, “¿Has perdido la cabeza?”

“I saved his life,” you interrupt, before any verbal sparring begins. “And I’m on your team. I don’t agree with what Graves is doing – and I’m sorry for what he’s already done. But I want to help you. I swear.”

Rodolfo regards you for a moment, his internal walls still heavily locked in place. But he seems… softer, now, in a way. More understanding, maybe, less hesitant as he slowly appraises you, inspecting you under his critical analysis.

The silence stretches, before the soldier raises his hands placatingly, the left side of his mouth twitching into a smooth smirk. “No accusations from me, Corazón,” he reassures, the pet name sliding from his full lips like butter over warm toast.

“Aye, none of tha’,” Soap warns, and Rodolfo’s amusement deepens. Whatever the Scot is about to say next is abruptly stopped by Ghost’s booming demand from behind you both.

“Anyone outside of these walls is now considered a hostile – we’re a team now. This happened under my watch, and I’d bloody well do good to fix it.” His posture is stiff, hand unconsciously flexing around the blade strapped to his belt as he delivers the order. It’s the most you’ve ever heard him speak in one shot.

You figure he’s stopped speaking, when suddenly his heavy gaze is on you, any ounce of solidarity snuffed out like a match’s flame. “You fuck up once, Sweetheart, and I won’t hesitate when I shoot ya dead.”

It’s as good of a compromise as you’re going to get from the hulking Lieutenant, but you weren’t made Colonel for your talents in stepping down.

“You forget that I outrank you,” you challenge, chin raised and eyes flinty. “And that I saved your mutt.”

“We don’t have a feckin’ dog,” Soap starts, but when he sees the way Ghost side eyes him, and how you give him an unimpressed look, his jaw drops. “Ye bastard! Shoulda killed ya –”

Rodolfo’s hand wraps around Soap’s forearm, the grumbling man twisting in his hold, but not putting up anything close to a fight. “She’s just stirring you up, hermano,” Rodolfo placates, his large eyes meeting yours with a hint of respect in them. It has you straightening your spine, and your resolve.

“We sort this out as equals,” you state, folding your arms over your chest and bucking your hip. Ghost doesn’t, for a single second, shift your mutual eye contact. “And you will all tell me what the fuck’s going on – and what we’re doing.”

“Alejandro,” Ghost quips, sharp and to the point. Finally, you think, his near-black eyes drift to Rodolfo. “We need him back.”

“He’s the only other lad we can trust out there,” Soap adds, his pout easing slightly. Rodolfo finally drops his hand, clapping it hard against the petulant man’s shoulder with a firm nod.

“Already got a head start, hermanos,” he gestures for the three of you to follow him further into the room, before his calculating eyes glance back at you, “y hermana.”

It’s an unknown, entirely different feeling that erupts inside of your chest at the inclusion. Rodolfo was clearly the most soft spoken man of the three, but he had an intelligence to him that you couldn’t wait to unpack. And he trusted you. Or so you had gathered, anyway.

However.

First things first.

“...Where’s Alejandro? I thought he was Mexican Special Forces?” It was, admittedly, a unique kind of embarrassing – how out of the loop you felt, considering you were a colonel under Graves’ command. You’d heard the man’s name before, but it was usually just paired with barracks gossip and warnings to steer clear. Some joke about how the only one who could kill Alejandro, was the soldier himself.

Moving along with Rodolfo, you’re surprised when it’s Soap who supplies you the answer.

“Your fuckwit of a Commander’s got ‘im,” he curses, the words grating and harsh. Deserved, of course it was deserved, yet it was still odd hearing such disrespect for the man of whom you’d idolised for so long.

Of whom you’d given everything.

Switching a light on, Rodolfo stops in front of a large table, a map laid out across the top of it. Your eyes go wide at the intricacies – focusing as the man leans over and presses a finger towards a highlighted spot, watching the three of you where you stand on the other side. Dust floats near the source of the lamp, and the scent of grime hits you a moment later, a familiar thing.

“Graves is holding him here,” Rodolfo explains, his previously mischievous expression settling into a firm, military-grade frown.

“His own personal black site prison,” Soap scoffs, subconsciously flexing his fingers around the straps of his vest. His focus is utterly devoted to the map in front of him, but his anxiety shows itself through the tiniest of movements.

Rubbing his spare hand down his face, Rodolfo lets out a long, strewn-out sigh. “My men are locked in there, too.”

“Then let’s get them back,” you supply with a small shrug when all eyes shoot your direction.

“That’s obvious, lass,” Soap says, lacking any hint of his previous vitriol when he looks around the room. “How we get ‘em back is the question.”

“By breaking in,” Ghost answers, the retort as simple as breathing.

If you weren’t so receptive to body movements, to the smallest of expressions, you’d’ve missed it. Even then, you doubted that anyone could miss how Soap’s eyes soften when he looks to his Lieutenant, how his breath softly hitches in his throat.

You want to claw out your eyes with a rusty spoon.

By the look on Rodolfo’s face, he feels much the same – until he catches you staring, and then his face twists into something much more cryptic. Like a man trying to solve a puzzle without all of the pieces, being forced to jam spares into spots that just won’t fit.

“We need weapons,” you startle out, the words surprising even yourself. You don’t go back on them, don’t even think to. “If we want to stand a fighting chance – we need firepower.”

“Who said you’re with us?” Ghost questions snarkily, but when you go to reply, you find that Rodolfo’s moved to the corner of the room, switching on even more lights, displaying a wrought iron door.

Sliding it open, you feel like a kid on Christmas morning as you take note of the supplies within.

Rodolfo shrugs, but the small, smug grin on his face doesn’t dispel. “It’s well-stocked. This is Ale we’re talking about.”

The affectionate nickname is something you store away for later. ‘Well-stocked’ is certainly an understatement – guns of all types line the walls within the room, all types of bombs and grenades along with it.

“Alright,” Ghost huffs out, the closest to appreciative that a man like him can get.

Soap is much more upfront about his joy. “My man!” He laughs, his dimples etched into his features like the light spattering of freckles over his upper cheeks and nose bridge. “We’re gonna need new wheels. Preferably up-armoured.”

Digging into his pocket, Rodolfo pulls out a set of keys, tossing them over to Ghost with relaxed shoulders. Turning, shock must be evident on all of you, because Rodolfo lets out a low chuckle. “Your wish is my command, hermanos y hermana.”

To the far end of the room, within the adjoined stables, is a fully-armoured forward drive of some sort – sleek and black and fucking perfect.

“Alejandro thought of everything,” Ghost admires, and when you look to him, you swear that you can see a hint of hope shining in his darkened eyes. Your heart skips a beat on its own accord, and you’re absorbed by the all-consuming want to pull it out of your chest with your bare hands, just so it never does such a thing again.

“Yeah, he did,” Soap whistles, before turning back around to face your small band of misfits. With a determined grin, he says as if it’s an afterthought, “Let’s go get ‘im.”

With a stern resolve and an even sterner disposition, you walk alongside your newfound teammates, and get ready for the most difficult mission of your military career.

*

When you’d, stupidly, recklessly, decided to play good guy and helps out the 141 and Los Vaqueros, you hadn’t taken into account how you’d be at the bottom of the totem pole.

While the three men you were working alongside were all considerably close, you were an outsider. At that, an outsider who had, only a few hours ago, decided to swap sides from enemy to ally.

Being paired with Ghost is, arguably, the most gut-wrenching job in your life. By the time that Rodolfo finds Alejandro through the CCTV system, you’re nearly entirely covered in dried blood, and your head thumps with a headache.

Not a headache from war – a headache from the fucking twat with a shitty DIY job for a military get-up.

“You’re seriously the worst,” you grit out, wiping off a bit of Shadow blood that’s been sprayed on your cheek. “I seriously can’t fucking believe that any one of your mates can tolerate you.”

“Who needs ‘mates’ when I have my boys?” Ghost quips back, wiping off his bloody dagger onto his vest, before slotting it back into its rightful position on his belt. His ability to blend into the night, even with the prison lights on, is uncanny – the only tell the white of his stitched-in skull.

You mock a disgusted sound, sticking out your tongue. “You sound like a fuckboy.”

“A what?” And, although it sounds nothing like a choke, you’re sure that it’s an instinctual question.

The sound of a helicopter up ahead has the two of you pausing in your tracks, feud coming to a quick halt. Looking up, you struggle to see the vehicle in the black of night, but you manage to spot the slowly circling heli above the prison.

“Ghost, Sweetheart, what’s yer status?” Soap’s voice trickles in through your comms. Ghost glances at you, before he answers on your behalf, ever the control-freak.

“Comin’ your way.”

Falling into step side-by-side, you focus on the wet gravel underneath your feet, avoiding making any communication with the man to your right.

“Copy. We’re on the move,” Soap replies, before Rodolfo cuts in.

“Heads up on the helo,” he warns. You find that you much prefer him over the other two – in fact, under any other circumstance, you could see the two of you becoming good friends. Maybe, if everything goes well, that could be a possibility – a positive in your world of negatives.

“Don’t think we’re in his line of sight,” you respond, double-checking your route and the helicopter's position in the sky. Rodolfo had warned you all, debriefing in the drive here, that helicopters would likely show up at some point.

Minutes pass, with small comms between the lot of you, when you finally spot the familiar figures belonging to the other half of your precarious team. 

Soap and Rodolfo stand at the entrance, before the two turn at the sound of your and Ghost’s footsteps. They both seem to visibly loosen their stiff shoulders, seeing you both uninjured – and if you do the same, you pray that no one notices.

“The door’s locked,” Soap informs you all, gesturing to the steel entrance5.

With a small hum, Rodolfo reaches for the pack on his vest. “We’ll need to breach it,” he explains, but before he can grab a charger, Ghost raises a hand to stop him.

“No, Rudy –” And that is a nickname that you’ll be using later, “Knock.”

Rodolfo seems apprehensive, but he agrees anyway, giving all three of you separate glances. “On me…”

All of you getting into readying positions, Rodolfo knocks on the door, the sound echoing loud enough to have your blood pounding in your ears.

A moment later, a Shadow – one you don’t recall having met – pushes open the door and moves to step outside. However, Rodolfo and Ghost are quick to neutralise him, softly dropping his body to the floor.

Pushing through the entrance, everyone except for you shoot a Shadow dead – clearing the room in less than twenty seconds. It’s impressive, how smoothly run the operation is, considering the lack of proper authority or guidance.

You’re the first to spot some more Shadows moving your way, down the stairs – calling it out. “More Shadows from the second floor – watch out!”

This time, you find yourself the cause of two men falling to the ground, blood pooling underneath their lifeless bodies. Your team doesn't give you time to second guess, to mourn, before they’re encouraging you to follow them up the stairs.

“Ale’s up here, let’s go!” Rodolfo urges, his voice bordering on a kind of desperation reminiscent of a boy enlisting for the first time.

Like expected, Alejandro’s cell is down the hall, sat to the far right. Two Shadows guard the steel door, but Soap and Rodolfo are quick to light them up, successfully clearing the entire two floors. You’re ashamed of how relieved you feel, being gifted the small mercies of not having to kill your previous subordinates, unless necessary.

You feel, more than see, Ghost’s heavy gaze on you. When you look back up from the gun in your hands, however, he’s turned completely away – and if you were a less accurate person, you’d have thought you were imagining things.

“There’s Alejandro’s cell.” Stopping at the steel door, Rodolfo adjusts his grip on the gun, before giving you an encouraging jerk of his head. “Open it up, me and Soap will cover you.”

Another small mercy, you think, as Ghost reaches into his backpack and pulls out a set of bolt cutters, regarding you stiffly. “When I pop this lock, you push in,” he directs you curtly, and you bite back a retort. You knew the process like the back of your hand – you had no need for an explanation.

The ‘especially from him’ goes unsaid.

With precise, practised movements, Ghost positions the bolt cutters, and pushes open the door.

As soon as you take one step into the cell, a large hand wraps around the back of your neck, slamming your face into the concrete wall, a blinding pain shooting through your retinas. Letting out a small yelp, your chest rattles as your hands wildly raise in an imitation of surrender.

“Alejandro! Let go of ‘er! It’s us!” Soap calls out, and you swallow unhealthy amounts of air. That hit had taken more out of you than you’d expected – and your harsh breaths were making that incredibly apparent.

The grip on the scruff of your neck slackens when Rodolfo shoots off in quickfire Spanish, “Coronel, relájate, cabron, somos nosotros.”

Your cheek aches and your head pounds as the hand removes itself entirely, allowing for you to take in lungfuls of oxygen.

“Soap, Ghost!” Alejandro bursts out, and as you rise to your feet unsteadily, you watch as he thumps both of them on the back of their shoulders, before turning to Rodolfo with an expression that could only be described as longing. “...Rudy.”

“Didn’t think we’d leave ya, did ye?” Soap chuckles, oblivious to the thread of tension between the two men. 

Whatever silent conversation had occured between the two enforcers is quickly cut as Alejandro accepts the shake of Soap’s hand, a feral grin wide on his features. “What took you so long, pendejos?”

“A traitor with an attitude is what,” Ghost inputs, and really, how much self control can a Lieutenant lack? Wiping at your cheek, you let your hand fall once more to your side as you meet Alejandro’s inquisitive gaze head-on.

“I’m Graves’ previous colonel,” you extend your hand, “And I’m your best bet at getting your base back.”

You expect suspicion, uproar, maybe – or at least questioning, similar to that of Rodolfo’s.

Instead, all you’re met with is Alejandro’s manic smile sharpening, and a slap on the back of your own. Ruffling your hair, he uses his free hand to accept the gun Rodolfo’s extending towards him, shooting you a knowing glance.

“Sounds good, hermana. Welcome to how real men fight.”

taglist. @lilpothoscuttings @jng-yuan @iruzias @insatiablekittie @1wh4re1nova @kaoyamamegami @supernaturalstilinski @inthemiddle0feverywhere @msecho19 @nogood-boyo @alfa-jor @lalashhyl @letmeapologise @honeybeeznutz @1mawh0re

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All the Good Girls Go To Hell 22

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, power imbalance, injury, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You come home for the summer but your break is not as relaxing as you expect.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Note: Enjoy.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me &lt;3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The short distance to Bucky’s bedroom is made longer by his drunken state. He’s unsteady and so are you. You keep your arm around his back, terrified of him fall one way or the other. You manage to angle him through the door and barely get him to the bed before he tips. 

He lands face down and giggles into the blanket. You’ve never heard a noise like that from him. Naomi always says to sleep on your stomach when you’re drunk. 

You stare at him for a moment and he turns his face out, puffing out air around your name. You hover at the foot of the bed, uncertain. 

“Doll,” he reaches and arm out blindly. 

“Um, one second, I... I’m gonna grab a bucket in case your sick.” It’s really just an excuse to sort out your thoughts, if you can. 

You go into the bathroom and snatch up the little bin beside the sink. Your return to Bucky as he grumbles. You put the bucket beside the bed and touch his elbow. 

“Alright, if you feel sick, you can just use this.” You recall all the times Naomi was an utter mess. You’re embarrassed how many times you let her drag you into her chaos. 

“Dolllllll,” he drawls and latches onto your wrist before you can recoil. “Don’t leave me.” 

“It’s okay, just stay on your stomach.” You open and close your fingers as you strain against his grasp. Even half-out of his mind, he’s much stronger than you. “Bucky, please, you gotta sleep this off.” 

“Please,” he babbles. “I can’t be alone, doll.” 

“But...” you murmur and swing your arm with his. He won’t let you go. 

Your eyes find his blue ones. His cheeks are tinged red from the alcohol and his head wobbles as he fights himself. The scene plucks at your heart. Just the way Naomi did when she was like this. Maybe it’s a flaw in you but you can’t just leave him like this. If something were to happen... 

“Alright, okay, Bucky,” you pet the back of his hand, tracing the thick veins. “You gotta let go so I can turn off the light, alright?” You look down his body, his legs half-off the bed. “And you need to move up a bit.” 

He garbles and shakes his head. “You’re gonna leave me, just like her.” He sniffles. “I’m sorry, doll. I never... I never meant for it to be like this.” He groans and squeezes you tighter. “I tried to help her. I did. I shouldn’t have... shouldn’t have done it like that.” 

“Shhh, please,” you rub his knuckles. “You just need to let go. I promise, I’ll stay.” 

“Promise?” He croaks. 

“Yes.” You tap his hand. 

He heaves and shudders. He lets you go reluctantly and his arm drops onto the mattress. He groans and drags his hands across the bed and lifts himself, just enough to pull his head up to the pillows. The bed lurches as he falls flat again. 

Slowly you cross the room and stop by the door, fingers hovering before the light switch. 

“Don’t leave...” he moans. 

You promised. You shut off the light and come back to the bed. You’ve done this a dozen times with Naomi. He’ll fall asleep fast enough. 

You climb up and lay down behind him. You stretch out stiffly on your back and stare at the shadowy ceiling above. You’re anxiety keeps you on edge. It isn't right being in his room like this, or the same bed as him. You just want to go back to guest room and sleep. 

You feel him relax as the bed dips with the release of tension. He rolls clumsily and untangles his arm from under him. He reaches it across and hooks it around your middle. He pulls himself closer and buries his nose against your shoulder. You wince but don’t resist. 

“You’re so sweet to me,” he slurs. He sighs and sinks down, his arm heavy across you. “Night, doll.” 

“Night, Bucky. Sleep it off.” 

You put your hand on his as it curls around your side. He inhales deeply and lets it out. His next breath is a snort. His snores rumbles out from his chest against your shoulder. You close your eyes. You’re not going to sleep well, if at all, but he’ll feel worse than you in the morning. 

🎀

Despite yourself, you doze off. You drift in an ebb and flow of exhaustion. At times, you can sense the room on the other side of your eyelids, overly aware of your body and the one beside you. Then all once, you’re swallowed up into the thick depths stirring with the dregs of your subconscious or plunged into endless black. 

You wake to a beam of sunlight between the curtains. Your back is tight as you remain flat. Bucky is curled up around you, his beard tickling your shoulder as he clings to your waist. His dark hair hangs over his face and tremors with his even breaths. He looks unusually small. 

You shift carefully, gauging his reaction as first you extend and arm, then wiggle free of his grasp. You gently ease his elbow down and sit up, shimmying to the edge as he burrows his face into the pillows. You stand and stare down at him. You need your glasses. 

You retrieve your glasses from the guest room then continue down to the kitchen. Your pour a tall glass of water and return to Bucky. You put it on the nightstand with a bottle of advil. You check the bucket. Nothing. 

You’re not sure how long he’ll be out. You grab your phone and bring it with you outside. You sit on the deck and tap ignore over all the angry messages. Naomi isn’t taking this well. What worries you more is that your mother hasn’t even tried to call or text. 

What are you going to do? You can’t stay here forever. It’s not fair to Bucky. He’s already been used. For all that he said, you’re not sure if you can believe him. Judging by last night, he’s not in the best place. 

You put your phone down and stare at the sky. You stay like that for a while. Your life is a mess. It won’t stay this way, it can’t. You have to go back to school soon. Your mom won’t ice you out forever. And eventually your dad will be back from his trip. 

The more you think about the cracks, the worse you feel. You don’t think you deserve this but maybe you do. You were coasting on a free ride for too long. Of course your mom would be frustrated. You should’ve got a job before you went off with Naomi. You’re not a kid anymore. 

Then everything with Steve. That hurts more. Your mom didn’t believe you but each day, you remember a little bit more. The wine, it had to be the wine. You know you didn’t dream it. 

The sliding door scrapes in the frame and you sit up. You hadn’t realised how far you’d hunched down. You turn as Bucky stumbles through. He only has a pair of sweats on as he braces his head and sips from the glass. 

“I thought you were gone,” he mutters as he crosses the deck. 

“No, just letting you sleep.” You turn back to look at the yard. 

He lowers himself to sit on the step next to you. He gulps and groans. He sets the glass aside and cradles his head. 

“I... I embarrassed myself, didn’t I?” He hides behind his hands, his dark hair tangled at the ends. 

“No. You just... had a rough night. We all have them.” 

He chuckles dryly and lifts his head, shying away from the sunlight as he shields himself with his hand. “You’re too nice. Too nice, doll.” He grumbles and combs his hair back, his fingers catching. “I was a mess. I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have had to... well, I don’t know. Can’t really remember.” 

“You can’t?” You perk up. Are you relieved? Disappointed? 

“Nuh uh. Thank god you stopped me. I think I woulda finished the bottle.” He bends his arms over his knees and huffs. “You got me to bed. Thanks.” 

“It wasn’t that bad. You were... dizzy.” 

You roll one fingertip around another and peer across the grass. Last night replays in your head. You wish you could forget too. It would be easier for both of you. 

“I said something?” He wonders. 

You shrug. 

“Doll, you’re quiet. I can’t lie and say I’m not terrified right now. Did I... do something? Please tell me I didn’t.”  

You take a breath. You can’t do it anymore. You can’t leave things unsaid and undone. You can’t keep sweeping it all under the rug. With Naomi, you just let it all go. You ignored it but that’s how this all happened. You need to start being honest, with others as much as yourself. 

“Did you really mean it?” You ask. 

“Mean what?” His timbre crackles nervously. 

He’s watching you. You can’t bare to look at him. You reach to play with the arm of your glasses and fix them on your nose. 

“You said... that you think of me. All the time.” 

His silence is like an anvil falling from the sky. The echo of its impact nearly bowls you over. He clears his throat. 

“I said all that?” He whispers. 

“Not too much. I thought you were upset about Naomi but you said... you told me I broke your heart. How can that be?” You give a dry smile. 

He drops his head again and his shoulders slump. “Fuck.” 

“It’s okay. I can forget it--” 

“No, but I can’t. Not now that I know.” He sighs and sits up. He grips his knees. “I can’t forget because it’s the truth. I know it’s complicated and I know you’ll hate me for it, just like her. Doll, I’m--” he winces as you look at him. His face pales and his lips slacken. He looks as if he’s been struck. “Doll, I’m a fool. I’m head over heels for ya and just you looking at me makes me want to melt into a puddle.” 

You blink. You could handle the drunken confession. People do stupid things when they’re drunk and they say more. 

“And you’re looking at me all scared and it’s like a knife in my chest.” He cringes and shakes his head. “Look, I don’t wanna fuck this up too. I’ll... I’ll get you somewhere away from me. I’ll do what I shoulda done before. I won’t be selfish, not with you.” 

“What are you saying?” You sniff. 

“Doll, I love you but if you stay here, I won’t be able to hold back. So it’s best that you get away from me. I’ll take care of ya. Pay for everything but it’s taking everything in me right now not to wrap you up and never let go.” He grips his head and whimpers. “I’m fucked up. I know it.” 

Your chest is at battle. It’s heavy but hollow. Your head is spinning and your fingertips singe as if you’ve touched a hot stove. No one’s ever said anything like that to you. It’s the sort of thing you dreamed of as a doe-headed teenager and the same thing you resigned to fantasy when none of the boys in college even looked your way. 

Well, he’s the only one who wants you. The only one who cares enough to set his own needs aside. Your own parents can’t be bothered to do the same. You’re just an afterthought to everyone. Except for him. 

You push yourself up and plod down the steps. You pace around the cements tiles etched with leafy designed. You circle around and around. 

“Doll...” Bucky’s tone is broken. 

You stop and look at him. You’re confused and scared. You don’t know what else to do but you can’t handle being cast out again. First your mom, then dad, then Naomi. One more and you might just believe every single doubt. 

“I want to stay. Can I?” You ask. 

He flinches. His brows draw together and his lip twitch. He reels dizzily and his lashes flutter. 

“Stay?” 

“Yeah, I... I don’t wanna be alone.” 

He nods and runs his fingers along his thick beard. “Me either, doll, but... you heard me, didn’t you? You understand what I told ya?” 

You purse your lips and take a shaky step towards him. Then another. And another. He tilts his head to look up at you as you stop right in front of him. You reach to put your hands on his shoulders and you lean over him. 

“You said you love me.” You eke out. 

“I do, but you...” 

“I can. I can try. I... I never tried.” You squeeze him.  

His eyes blaze up at you, gleaming with hope. “I can be patient, doll. We’ll try together.” 

“Sure,” you gulp. 

“Please, doll, please, can I kiss you?” He begs. 

Your cheeks pinch and your lashes flicker. You wet your lips and dip your chin down, “okay.” 

His hands fall onto your hips and crawl up your back. As you bend over him, your glasses slip and you cry out as they slide down your nose and hit his face. You pull back and swipe them away. 

“Sorry!” You squeak. 

“Nah, doll,” he laughs and keeps hold of you, “I don’t mind.” 

You clutch your glasses tight and lean your fist on his shoulder. He brings you back to him and presses his lips against yours. You inhale sharply as his warmth seeps into you. He purrs and wraps his arms around you. He pulls you off your feet and into his lap. You wiggle and part to gasp. 

“Sorry, doll. Can’t help myself.” He grins up at you. You’ve never been looked at like that. It feels nice, right? 

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Falling for the act

Hii I hope you enjoy this fake dating one-shot about Carlos :)

You and Carlos have been dating for five months, or that's what the world thinks. In reality, you've been acting as his girlfriend at the request of his manager. When Carlos's manager approached you with the proposal, you were uncertain. However, he convinced you with the promise of luxury trips, travelling around the world, and a generous paycheck.

Tonight, you have a gala for Ferrari investors. It's not the first time you've accompanied him to an event like this, and it surely won't be the last. You decide to make the best of your situation and get ready. As you do your makeup, you can't help but think about your relationship with Carlos. He has been nothing but kind, always trying to make you as comfortable as possible. A smile appears on your face as you reflect on how you've grown from strangers to friends. It should stay as a friendship, you remind yourself, even if it's hard when he treats you so nicely and his heavenly looks don't help the inevitable feelings from growing.

"Are you ready?" Carlos asks as he knocks on the bathroom door, waiting for permission to come in.

"Almost ready," you say, your breath catching in your throat as he enters. It should be illegal to look that good in a suit, you think.

"Wow, Y/N, you look amazing. I'm lucky that you are my date for tonight, or I would be jealous of others seeing how you look in that red dress," Carlos jokes.

Blush covers your face, and it's not from your makeup. "Thanks," you answer, unsure of what else to say to his compliment.

As you arrive at the gala, flashes blind you as you cling to Carlos's arm for support, remembering why you are really there. The luxury of the gala still amazes you as you walk in and greet the other guests. The night moves on quickly, but between the music and the conversations, you start feeling anxious.

"I'm going outside. I'll be back soon," you tell Carlos, seeking the fresh night air to calm your nerves. But your peace is short-lived as a man approaches you.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?" he says, his breath reeking of alcohol as he nears you.

"I'm not alone, and I would appreciate it if you left me alone. Thanks," you try to reason with him, but it doesn't seem to work.

"Come on, we could have a great time," he says, aggressively taking your arm.

"She told you to leave her alone," Carlos's voice surprises both of you.

"Dude, she was asking for it," the man tries to argue with Carlos. "She's a slut," but he doesn't have time to finish the sentence as Carlos punches him.

"Ah, you broke my nose, asshole!"

"I told you to leave my girlfriend alone. You should leave, or a broken nose will be the least of your problems."

Carlos's arms tighten around you as he speaks, his voice filled with concern. "Are you okay? Do you want to call the police?"

You take a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself as you look up at him. "I'm okay… just a little shaken up. Thank you, Carlos. I don't know what I would've done if you weren't here."

Carlos's eyes soften, a mix of relief and worry etched across his face. "You don't have to thank me. I was just so scared for you. I can't imagine losing you."

You feel warmth spread through you at his words, the sincerity in his voice making your heart race. "Carlos, I… I don't know what to say."

He gently cups your face in his hands, his thumb brushing away a tear you hadn't realized had fallen. "You don't have to say anything. Just promise me you'll be careful."

"I promise," you whisper, leaning into his touch.

Carlos hesitates for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if looking for something. Then, with a tenderness that makes your heart ache, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "Let's get you home."

You nod, grateful for his presence. As you drive back to your apartment, Carlos keeps a protective hand on you, his closeness a comforting reminder that you aren't alone.

Inside, he makes sure you are settled on the couch before sitting next to you. "Do you want to talk about what happened?" he asks gently.

You shake your head, still feeling the residual fear from the attack. "Not right now. I just… I just need you here."

"I'm not going anywhere," Carlos assures you, his hand finding yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

You look down at your intertwined hands, a small smile tugging at your lips despite everything. "You know, for fake dating, this feels pretty real."

Carlos chuckles softly, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and something deeper. "Maybe it's because… it is real. At least for me."

Your breath catches in your throat at his confession, your heart pounding loudly in your chest. "Carlos…"

"I know this might not be the best time, but I've been wanting to tell you for a while now," he continues, his voice earnest. "I have feelings for you. Real feelings. And seeing you in danger tonight made me realize just how much you mean to me."

You feel tears welling up again, but this time they are tears of a different kind. "I… I have feelings for you too, Carlos. I was just too scared to admit it."

He smiles, relief and joy evident in his expression. "Then we're on the same page."

You nod, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "Yeah, we are."

Carlos pulls you into another embrace, this one filled with the promise of something new and beautiful. "We'll get through this together," he murmurs into your hair. "I promise."

In that moment, wrapped in his arms, everything feels right. The lines between pretense and reality blur, leaving you with a sense of anticipation for the future. With Carlos by your side, you know that whatever comes next, you'll face it together.

[hearts4werka]

NNN day 1 | "Don't Do This Again."

summary: a heated argument with your boyfriend Matt who’s the fuckboy of the town about him sleeping with another girl at a party you attended last night but are you going to give him another chance, or value your well being and break things off?

warnings: ANGST, arguing, cheating (do not even try), swearing, no happy ending, slapping, not proofread & possibly more?

authors note: first day of NNN means the first blurb, hope y’all enjoy this and sorry if it’s kinda rushed and short I just need to get this done by morning since I have quite a bit on my head today, luv y’all so much!

no nut november | masterlist | guestlist

“It was just this one time, cmon now!” He argued, throwing his hands in defense and trying to justify his actions in any way. I can���t believe the audacity he has to think anything of what he did was okay, he’s just another typical fuck boy. “I don’t care! You fucking promised me you wouldn’t do this to me like you did the other girls! I can’t believe I trusted you.” I yell back, feeling my frustration filling the air around me as our words echo through the room.

“Don’t be like this, I promise it won’t happen again but for real this time.” He says softly with a lower octave, attempting to get closer to me and get a grasp on my arm but I step away as soon as he reaches his arm out in my direction. “Oh don’t start with this bullshit, you’ve said it too many times already for anyone to believe it.” I argue back, rolling my eyes out of annoyance. Ive forgave him enough times already.

“Please, I really promise. Baby don’t leave me.” He said as I noticed desperation starting to rise in his eyes, I felt a slight prick of symopathy pierce through my heart. Ive given him enough chances I would be betraying my morals by staying, but he looks so desperate. "I dont think youre worth the heartbreak anymore, I'm sorry but we cant be together anymore" as the words left my mouth, I saw something crush in his eyes, his face still shadowed with faint hope. He approached me again and tried to hold onto me again, "y/n, cmon we can work this out y'know? just stay with me and we'll figure this out."

He inhales a sharp breath before continuing. "I might have been not the best boyfriend but I seriously promise ill change for you." he pleads, looking at me as if hes about to drop to his knees and worship me just in hopes to make me stay. I can feel the pain hes experiencing as it radiates off him but I turn away because I cannot stare into his eyes any longer, I hear him sniffle behind me. "y/n dont be ridiculous, we've done this before and we can do it again." he finally manages to grap my arm, his grip being tight and desperate to hold on. I remain in my stance facing the door of his bedroom and ready to storm out, suddenly he pulls at my arm and forces me to face him directly. "are you seriously just going to walk away from all of this? leave us behind?" i hear slight frustration rise in his voice, annoyance starting to now shadow his features.

"I can't let you keep breaking my heart like that, Matt! you really have to stop with doing this to every girl you're with." I state and spare him a single glare before attempting to escape his grip which only makes it tighter and now more angrier, I notice the slow chances in his apperance as well as actions. Them becoming frustrating and mean, the polar opposite of what he looked before, nothing new. He always used it to manipulate me into antthing he wanted but its not going to work on me now. "Don't even fucking try to get away from this conversation, you're staying and theres no discussion." He orders sternly, obviously making it his mission to force me into staying with him. "Matt, you're being unbelievable right now seriously. This needed to end eventually and you knew it." I answer, my temper visibly starting to rise in my tone of voice.

I roll my eyes at him, sharpingly yanking my arm out of his vice grip and storm out of the room as Matt follows right behind me. "I'm being unbelievable? oh please, dont make me laugh right now." He huffs, I turn around to glare at him and now see him fully change from plead and desperation to annoyance and frustration. I almost don’t recognize him, he takes slow steps towards me and stops a few meters away. “You’re even lucky I picked to date you out of all of the girls I can have.” He mocks, looking at me as if I’m the most pathetic human ever. Its crazy how much he changed in the span of just few minutes, it just proved how manipulative he can be.

“Who are you?” I question, angry tears filling my eyes at the thought that he could have never even truly loved me and just pretended to care when I gave him all of the chances he had now completely lost. “Oh how the tables have changed now, huh? Looks who’s now the one crying.” An evil chuckle echos through the hallway, he slowly walks towards me and I back away until my back hits the wall with a soft thud. His face comes inches close to mine, observing my pissed off expression as false hope shadows my features.

“You’re such a worthless little bitch-“ before he could finish his bullshit sentence, I deliver a deserved hard slap across his face. Slapping noice echos throughout the house as he becomes speechless, taking advantage of his frozen state I slip out from between him and the wall and dart to the front door. Escaping into my car as I faintly hear him yell out. “Where the fuck are you going?” By the time he gets outside of the front door I quickly start the car and drive off, letting the tears from my eyes fall freely without any restrain as the last time I see him press his back on the front door with an unsatisfied look on his face.

Guestlist!

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[mysunshinetemptress]

Hi, Can't wait for the fics that you write I lover them all. But can I request a Katrina Gorry x wife reader, where the reader is a footballer too but in England or Spain team. Thanks....

Mi Vida

Katrina Gorry x Reader

Angst fluff

Falling in love with your wife has been the easiest thing you had ever done, telling her you loved her was nerve wracking but not hard, asking her to marry you was an easy decision planning out how you where going to do it not so much, organising the wedding was complicated but ultimately you both had decided to marry at La Fortaleza in Mallorca and finally the decision to start a family had been the quickest yes you had said in your life finally feeling your life align the way you had always hoped.

That changed when your wife had been signed to a team in Sweden and had ultimately decided that she would be the one to take your 6 month old daughter with her. Both your girls where three hours away by plane and the only way you got to speak to them was through a phone most of the time. You couldn’t help but feel deflated after you hung up every night, looking over the videos you had been sent of Harpers first steps to her first words and little sentences she was still trying to string together.

You spent every break you could in Sweden trying to make up for lost time but every time you saw them both your heart broke at how much had changed how big Harper was getting so quickly, and with that her interests something you didn’t catch on to until she had been a screaming mess shouting how much she hated paw patrol when you had tried to give her the presents you had brought over. What hurt even more was how little Spanish she had or understood compared to her understanding of Swedish “Osa puedes decir te amo mamá ?.” Harper had stood clueless babbling before you tried again and she began to get frustrated a tantrum ensuing after as Katrina watched heart breaking at your crest fallen features realising what was happening to her family.

Leaving was never easy you felt guilty watching Harper beg and cry for you to stay to not leave her and how hopeless she slowly became to your promises to return “too long mama stay.” You of course would only answer in Spanish wanting to surround her in as much of it as possible during such a short time, “lo sé, osa, lo siento, te prometo te veré pronto mi niña.” Harper would begin getting frustrated shouting for you to speak English.

Katrina had been a bystander during these moments, she had felt her heart break the minute she told you she had signed to play in Sweden and would be taking Harper with her, she was surprised you hadn’t fought for her to stay in Spain with you surrounded by her Tías instead when she had begun shouting at you to say something about her decision you had grabbed her into your arms and told her it was ok, having Harper move from place to place wouldn’t be good for her at all and if Katrina thought Sweden would be best for your daughter then you would support her. But she couldn’t deny she felt regret and guilt creep in watching you try to hold back tears on FaceTime or hear you cry every night you where home as you tried to hide it.

After talking to her agent Katrina decided that the 2023 season would be her last in Sweden, but she had decided to keep it a surprise from you wanting to bring some spark back in your eyes since she had left. But first was the Women’s World Cup.

Australia and New Zealand had been chosen to co host this years World Cup and the Matilda’s had been hopeful that they would win it on home soil, whereas the Spanish team La Rojas as they where fondly called had been shadowed in controversy and had come into the tournament wanting to prove the world they where more than what the news projected them to be.

Your contract with Barcelona was set to end while you where playing at the World Cup and you had made the decision to leave the club on a high of winning a champions league and leave for a new league the WSL, what team you would been signing to was get to be made known to the press wanting to tell you close family and friends before the big announcement.

The Spanish federation hadn’t been as accommodating as you hoped, refusing to allow you to fly over two days ahead of the team in order to see your wife and daughter or even letting you see them once you arrived over stating they didn’t want any distractions, Alexia and Ona stood beside just off camera as you called Katrina “Hola Mi Amor.” Katrina knew something was wrong the minute your face appeared “everything ok my love.” You looked at your teammates before sighing “they won’t let me fly out two days early or see you during the tournament, I don’t know how you say eh distracción.” Katrina eyes softened “distraction love.” You nodded “I just want to see her and to see you too.” Katrina felt the guilt come back “I know I’m sorry my love it won’t be much longer.” You nodded “is she there my little osa.” Katrina smiled sadly at the hope in your eyes at seeing your daughter “mums taken her to the park y/n I’m sorry.” You could only smile sadly at her “it’s ok, I have something to tell you though.” Katrina hummed letting you know she was listening “I’m leaving Barcelona, I want to go to England to play plus flight times are less I get to you both quicker no.” Katrina was overjoyed at the news “oh darling I’m…really but you love Barcelona.” You nodded “I do but it’s the right time.” Katrina smiled at you before she was interrupted by your older two children Kyra and Charli “hola ma how are you.” You smiled at the younger girls. “I’m good but I have to go I’ll see you all soon and please give my osa a big hug and kiss from me tell her I love her.” Katrina could see the heart break in your eyes at your words “she knows my love but I’ll remind her.”

The tournament had been a nightmare for the Matilda’s, they had been knocked out by England and would now battle Sweden for the bronze while you faced England at the hopes of winning it all. The team had gathered in the screening room to watch match hopping for your wife to win. Anytime Katrina came on screen your team cheered and your heart swelled every time of course those cheers got so much louder when your daughter appeared on screen as they all talked about how cute she was you felt tears form in your eyes seeing her dressed in her Australia jersey waving a flag. You texted the Australian girls after stating how proud you where of and that deserved so much more but that she should be proud of leaving it all out on the pitch and creating history.

You stood in the tunnel holding your mascots hand when you felt a tap on your shoulder turning to see Alessia Russo “Rumour has it your joining the WSL.” You nodded smiling “that rumour would be true.” Alessia smiled Turing to face the front “I look forward to it then.” You smiled before squeezing your mascots hand asking if she was ready to go. Walking out you stood proud giving your jacket to the young girl shivering in front of you before singing the national anthem and saying good by taking your place on the back line with Ona.

You had done your best making sure your back line stayed strong against such a strong English squad. You found an opportunity in the 29 minute the lioness gravitating to the left wing gave you the chance to break into the middle right before calling for the pass from Bonmatí seeing Mary just off her mark you sent a rocket to the top left holding your breath as it nestled in the back turning you ran to your bench jumping onto Alexia as she screamed in excitement before you looked past the bench to see the Matilda’s standing behind it, you spotted your wife and daughter pointing at the letting them know it was for them before Alexia pushed you back down to the pitch telling you to get a move on.

The minute the final whistle blew you dropped to the ground before feeling your teammates pile on top of you before you shook them off walking straight to the lionesses, congratulating them on their performance before Lotte Wubben moy grabbed you “we need you holy shit mate.” You laughed pulling her into a hug “I’m Spanish but ooh to be a gooner.” Lotte squealed pulling you tighter “can’t wait mate.” You nodded before excusing your self.

You ran right past your management team before jumping the Barrier as fans around you tried to grab you but you ignored them running up the steps “salto de Osa.” Harper jumped from Charli’s arms “oh mi Osa te amo.” Katrina pushed through the girls congratulating you pulling you down to kiss her “I’m so proud of you of all of you you did it Y/n.” You felt tears well in your eyes “I couldn’t do it without you it is all for you I’m sorry you didn’t win but what’s mine is yours sí.”

Harper wouldn’t let you go for the trophy ceremony, Katrina stating she was jealous of the mascot the minute you walked out holding her hand screaming that you where her Mama and only hers. You took your medal with Harper on your hip as well as threw her in the air when they raised the trophy before letting the girls take her away briefly as Katrina made her way on to the pitch “for you.” You took your medal off putting it over your wife’s head kissing her softly. Katrina held you as you watched Harper laugh with the girls “ lm leaving.” You froze “leaving what.” Katrina could see the worry in your face “Sweden I’ve decided I’m done splitting this family apart so at the end of this season I’m leaving and I’m following you to England.” You felt your heart swell “really.” Katrina nodded “my life is with you and Harper no where else I can’t live through that or put you both through that again it broke my heart seeing her cry every night knowing you where doing the same in Spain.” You held her as she gave you her reasoning “I’m going to Arsenal.” Kyra squealed from behind you “I am too oh we are going to be a real family in England.” Charli nodded “yeah cause I decide I wasn’t being left out either.” You felt content finally creep back in as you looked around at your little family “oh mi Vida es Bella.”

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

I feel like im literally swatting your inbox with cowboy angst since you asked so sorry but also not sorry.

I can see cowboy being one to NOT LIKE KEVIN when he's dating the beautiful penelope garcia. Garcia thinks it's possibly jealousy but also she thinks cowboy isn't capable of such a gross feeling. but the truth is cowboy just does. not. think. anybody. is. good. enough. for. penelope. garcia. point blank. He tries to be civil for her sake but when she's not around he grabs kevin by the wrist and informs him he'll twist him like a blade of grass if he dares disrespect his lady.

(just cowboy being very big!brother to garcia and protecting her at all costs).

-🦕

Hiya, I hope you like this! I'm so sorry it took so long! :)

Description: Cowboy is a little protective of Miss Penelope Garcia

Warnings: threats, threats of violence

Taglist: @xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax @ara-a-bird @heidss @chubbyboyinflannel @pendragon-writes @migwayne @bigolgay @technikerin23 @supercriminalbean @honestlycasualarcade @caffeine-mess @1s3v3n1 @oddmiles @kevyeen @stealing-kneecaps @criminalskies @woodandwaxwings @wizardmon3 @aphroditeslovr @ducks118 @azeal-peal @13thdoctor-run @introvertpan84 @goth-boi-atlas @iliketozoneout @chaosofmanyfandoms @logicalhorror @luvfornick @prmsn-17 @pinxeajin

"You're datin' Kevin?" Garcia nods and you turn to the others, "Who's Kevin?"

"I'm Kevin," He's not short, but not exactly tall with messy brown hair and glasses. You stare at him before you gaze flicks down to his extended hands and you shake it. You couldn't help but think that he looked suspiciously like Xander from Buffy the Vampire Slayer but quickly pushed that thought aside.

"Nice to meet you." You keep your voice even and when the handshake is over, Kevin winces slightly as he gently massages his hand.

Penelope turns to you with a glare, hitting you chest. "Can you not break my boyfriend's hand please?!"

You give her a sheepish smile, "Sorry Penny." When her back is turned, your smile drops and you raise an eyebrow at Kevin, analysing him. The expression is gone as soon as Penelope looks back at you and you smile.

"Good. Now, I am going to get a coffee, so you two- play nice." She said, although very pointed at you.

"I'll get it for you." Kevin offered with a smile.

"I'll join you."

As soon as you're on your own, you turn to him. "Listen here, you hurt her, you upset her, if you do anything that makes her feel even the slightest bit upset, I kill you." You say sternly, "Understand?"

Kevin gives a sharp nod. "Good. Let's get her that coffee." You give a sickly sweet smile before making your way to the breakroom.

A few weeks passed, with Kevin being around a lot more than you liked. You weren't sure what it was exactly, but he gave you the chills. Garcia had noticed your standoffish behaviour, but hadn't approached you about it.

Originally, she couldn't help but think that perhaps you were a little jealous of Kevin. Of course, this thought only lasted about two seconds before she realised that you were not one to be bogged down but such emotions. She brushed it to the side, deciding that if another incident happened, she'd then approach you about it.

A few months passed that were uneventful, until one morning when you knocked on the door to the Bat Cave, and Penelope opens the door in tears.

"Hey, hey, Princess, what's wrong?" Garcia doesn't answer, simply throwing herself into your arms as she sobs. You quickly guide her inside, shutting the door. "Hey, it's a'right, I'm here," You mumble, your heart breaking as the woman who had quickly become like your sister cried.

"I saw Kevin kissing someone else-"

You sat with Garcia for a few moments, until she calmed down. You leave with the promise to return with baked goods. And you were going to. Until you see Kevin walking down the hall with the audacity of existing.

You're not thinking straight, you know that. But he's a weasel and you want nothing more than to slam his head into a desk. So, naturally, when you see him, you instantly corner him.

"What did I say would happen if you hurt her?" You bite out.

"I- I- I can explain-"

"Yeah? You have ten seconds."

"I was drunk-"

"Oh, I guess that makes all the difference then." You responded sarcastically. "N your ten seconds are up."

You had every intention of doing at least a little bit of bodily harm, when Hotch walks around the corner, frown in place.

"(Y/N)." His voice is stern.

"Sir?" You turned to him, voice taking it's usual pitch as you turned to your boss.

"What's going on?"

"He cheated on Penelope."

"I was drunk-"

"You, don't speak." You pointed back at Kevin.

"Okay, (Y/N), you need to step out of the room." Hotch said, his voice stern.

You turn back to Hotch with a glare, "What? No."

"Take a walk." You stare at Hotch for a moment before sighing, leaving the room. As soon as you left the room, Garcia immediately approached you.

"Why do you have a face like thunder?" She asks, "What did you do?"

"Nothin' Hotch made me leave."

Garcia huffed. "I appreciate you, but I'm also mad."

"I'll bake you cookies?"

"Fine. I forgive you."

[chxrrysangel]

Wanna Play a Game ?

Trick | roleplay

Pairing | Dabi x fem!reader

Warnings | i guess dubcon?? but also like not really, knife play, a singular mention of blood/injury, fingering, choking, oral ( m + f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), alluded to aftercare, mask kink lowkey, honorifics, degradation, dabi has a pierced dick bc I said so

A/n | not proofread, we die like men (i'll do it later, i promise)

Wordcount | 3,205 words

The night was dark and quiet, almost too quiet. The whirring of the television and your intermittent gasps of fright was music to his ears. Hellraiser had never been a favorite franchise, but with everyone raving about the reboot you decided to give it a shot. If you were being honest, Odessa A’zion was the sole reason for giving it a chance. The music took a turn, suspense making your heart race with anticipation. 

Ring Ring 

A yelp left your lips before even registering the sound of the phone. It was unlike anyone to call this late, small town and all. Everything closed at like 8pm, as if everyone old or young had an early bedtime. It was almost as comical as it was annoying. Shaking hands unclipped the device from its receiver, listening for the connection to stabilize. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi. Who is this?” 

You scoffed. “I think you have the wrong number.” 

There was a small beat of silence before the receiver picked up sound. 

“Do I?” Who is this guy? 

“Yes you do. I’m hanging up, have a nice night.” You ended the call, feeling a sense of unplaced fear. With a small town like this, everyone still used the yellow pages. The possibility of dialing the wrong number was pretty low. Continuing the movie, your mind wandered to oggling Odessa and Drew’s characters, the stranger on the phone long forgotten. 

Ring Ring 

Not even bothering to press pause, you picked up the house phone with clear exasperation. 

“Yes, can I help you?” 

“I’m sorry.” It was the same strange voice. 

“You called me again to apologize?” Some time between your question and the awaited response, a character on the screen screeched in pure terror, catching you off guard. 

“Yes I did. Are you watching a scary movie?”

“...yes I am. And I’d like to get back to it.” 

“Do you like scary movies?” 

“Some of them.” You figured that by keeping your answer short, he would eventually get bored and hang up. 

“Which ones?”

“Jennifer’s Body. Scream. Chucky. Ones like that.”

“You have good taste, sweetheart.” 

“Thank you, I’m hanging up now if you don’t mind.” 

“I do mind, actually.” 

“Well, I’m sorry but that’s too b–”. Your sentence was interrupted by a loud banging on the front door. Tentatively, you tiptoed towards the peephole and looked through to see nothing. 

What the fuck? 

You turned around to a dark kitchen, making you shriek. The television flickered back and forth on its own, fear and bile rising up your throat. The stranger on the other line seemed irrelevant at this point, too caught up in the strange sight before you. To make matters worse, the pounding on the front door returned, shaking you to your core. 

“Who is it?” There was no response, which only scared you more. With shaking hands, you opened the door and peered outside. The porch was empty, just as you had expected. You tried to calm your heart, deciding to worry about all of this another time. Every instinct you had escaped you, the naivete of a small town making you less cautious than you probably should be. You shook your head, closing the door to return to your movie.

Except the door got caught on something. 

A foot to be exact. 

Your eyes bulged out at the sight of the mystery black boot, fearing who could possibly be attached to it.. Your entire body shook with pure terror, a tall stranger looming over you in a mask. His head tilted in animalistic curiosity, unmoving but frightening all the same. 

“Did no one ever tell you the first rule of scary movies, sweetheart? Don’t open the door for strangers.” He chuckled darkly, stepping over the threshold as you stupidly stepped backwards. Despite everything in your body telling you to run, it was like you were frozen in place. The large man clicked his tongue with disapproval, seemingly at your lack of instincts. A gloved hand came up to your face, grabbing onto your jaw to hold you in place. You could feel his warm breath on your cold skin with his increased proximity, fanning your ear while he whispered. 

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing home alone, hm?” A tear fell down your cheek, too frozen with fear to respond or do anything else. He backed up a few spaces, watching you stand helplessly like a gazelle caught in the lion’s den.

“Not gonna run from me? But that’s no fun.” He sounded sickeningly disappointed, which only worsened your anxiety of what was to come. It was at this moment you noticed something shining in his other hand, your eyes widening as you identified the foreign object. He seemed to put two and two together, bringing the blade up to your face. 

“Oh sweetheart, don’t worry ‘m not gonna kill ya, not yet at least.” You’d almost think he was sincere if the circumstances were different. Even behind a mask, his smile was evident. 

As if some higher power guided you to sanity, you suddenly developed a sliver of bravery. So you ran, as fast as your feet could carry you without wasting a single moment to look back. Haphazardly you ran into your bedroom and slammed the door, searching frantically for a hiding spot. The closet seemed like your best option, having no time to think of something better. You waited there, breathing as quietly as you could muster given the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You’ve never felt fear quite like this moment, which could very easily be your last. For a few minutes the house was virtually silent, but you couldn’t be stupid enough to be lured out under false pretenses. It was never that easy. Suddenly your bedroom door slammed open, the stranger walking into your safe space. His large boots made impressions into the carpet with each step, a faint eerie whistle being heard under his mask. 

“Honey, I know you’re in here. Can’t hide from someone like me, baby.” A light shined in your face, blinding you as the closet doors opened. 

“There you are.” How someone whose eyes can’t be met could be so terrifying was incredible. 

You begged  for your life, feeling so unlike yourself. It was an out-of-body experience, kissing the boots of a stranger and begging him not to kill you. The coldness of his blade pushed up your chin, forcing your eyes towards where you assumed his own sat.

“I told you, my sweet, I have much better plans in mind.” He stood much straighter now, towering over your kneeling figure. The cloak he wore earlier was gone, although he kept the mask for obvious reasons. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty like this.” Your eyes flickered down his figure instinctually, catching on the growing bulge  beneath his black jeans. He was enjoying this, although not quite in the matter you thought. You hated yourself for the wet feeling growing between your thighs as you stared. He chuckled, entertained by this moment. 

“I can see you staring.” 

The trance you were in broke, heat breaking out across your cheeks as you averted your gaze. 

“Don’t get all shy on me now, honey. I’ve caught you. And I think there’s a solution we both could enjoy.” 

The tall stranger didn’t wait for an answer, dropping his knife to begin unbuckling his pants. In one swift movement, his jeans and boxers pooled around his ankles. Purple scarring covered his lower legs, but your eyes could hardly focus on anything other than his dick hanging in front of your face. His tip leaked, red and swollen like it hurt. Metal jewelry glittered in the low light of the room, a jacob’s ladder and prince albert catching your eye. It was embarrassing how interested you were considering the circumstances. 

“Now be a good girl and suck.” 

Without much hesitation, your outstretched tongue gathers the dripping pearls of precum as you relax your jaw to accommodate him. He was large, much larger than most people you’ve had. The man groaned as his tip hit the back of your throat, a ring-clad coming to place itself on your cheek. On occasion, he thrusted into your mouth, chuckling when you gagged. Tears began to well in your eyes, clouding your vision a bit. Despite his air of dominance, whimpers could be heard beneath the mask, signaling how much he enjoyed this. 

“So good, that’s it. F-fuck,” he stuttered. Using your prior knowledge, you began to roll his balls between your fingertips as you sucked him off. His thrusts began to lose rhythm, signaling that he was very close. 

“Shit, shit. I’m gonna fucking cum. Stop.” He pulled you off, not allowing you to refuse and push him over the edge.

“Not so fast, pretty girl. Bed, now.” 

Not arguing despite instinct saying otherwise, you sat down on the bed and awaited instruction. He didn’t say much, grabbing your arm and turning you to lay on your stomach. A coldness danced its way up your back and down your thighs, making you shiver. The heat from his body radiated off him like a furnace, which only made each anticipatory moment pass by even slower. Eager hands pulled down your shorts, being thrown somewhere behind his shoulder. 

“Spread those legs for me sweetheart.” You did as told, hearing a groan in response. Even through the cotton fabric, your pussy shined with arousal, making him more turned on than he thought was possible. Not wasting a single moment, he ran his fingers along your slit and pressed against your clit. He cursed under his breath as you leaned into his touch, desperate for any pleasure he was willing to offer. 

“Oh that’s cute.” 

He slipped one finger in, meeting little resistance as your cunt sucked him in. It was a sight to behold, making him wish he brought a camera. You mewled below him, ass pushing against his hand as you chased your own pleasure. He chuckled, enjoying how obviously needy you were and the lack of shame you possessed in hiding it. But just as you felt an orgasm approaching, he took his hand away. 

“Not yet..” You groaned in frustration, but stayed quiet otherwise. 

Dabi spread your legs wide, enough to accommodate his shoulders as he lay beneath you and brought your core to his face. The ball of his apparent tongue piercing rolled along your clit, making you cry out of pleasure. 

“F-fuck,” you managed to stutter out. His tongue was gifted, sucking on your clit with just the right amount of pressure to drive someone insane. He wasn’t afraid to be messy, loudly slurping and sucking to the point where it was almost nasty. Dabi pulled your body closer to his mouth, impossibly closer, like he was trying to absorb you. Your hips ground against his face, chasing your slowly creeping orgasm.

“More, need more.” Because you begged so nicely, Dabi obliged your request by curling two fingers into your hole. His thick digits pressed against your g-spot, making your toes curl as you felt your stomach tighten as your orgasm approached. You could only blabber incoherently, speaking words that not even you could bother to understand. All you knew is that you were cumming, quickly. You collapsed on the bed, legs jelly and head fuzzy as you came down. 

Dabi couldn’t wait for you to come to, deciding to take matters into his own hands.  

He manhandled your frame, pushing your knees into your chest as he pressed his weight against the back of your thighs. The tip of his dick prodded at your entrance, gathering the slick of your cum. Majority of his face remained covered by the mask, but his wicked grin shone brightly in the dimly lit bedroom

There was a level of shame that lodged itself in your chest, embarrassed by how turned on you felt in that moment. 

“You’re even prettier in this position.” His teeth grazed the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. 

You could practically feel his cock in your throat as he stretched you inch by inch, agonizingly slow as he watched your features. He could tell you were overwhelmed, which only made him harder. 

“Fucking hell,” Dabi whispered under his breath. Killing you would be such a shame now.

His thrusts were slow but methodical, ensuring you could feel every single piercing and vein. His warm breath fanned your face, engulfing you in his scent as he held you close. He smelled like smoke, undercut by the scent of bergamot and the faintest hint of vanilla and mint. It was intoxicating. 

“I can feel you squeezing me. Wanna cum already?,” he teased. His tone was wickedly condescending, prompting you to try and hide your face in the sheets. 

His strong hand gripped your chin, forcing eye contact. He clicked his tongue in disapproval. 

“You can’t hide from me, princess. Be a good girl.”

His calloused fingertips rubbed circles against your clit, pushing you further towards the edge. It was almost like he needed you to cum, more than he did. He set a vicious pace, knocking the air from your lungs with every push into the mattress. He pushed your legs further, creating a new angle as your body curled into itself. It hurt so good. Dabi never shied away from being vocal, cursing under his breath as he whined about how good you felt. 

He leans down, pulling you into a kiss. It’s neither soft nor caring, purely animalistic as he bullies his tongue into your mouth. The hunger he felt translated across, desperation evident in his forceful thrusts as you kissed back. You attempt to grab his hair, realizing that the mask still covered most of his face. Uncaring, he pulled it off completely, throwing it somewhere in the corner to be searched for later.  You taste each other on your tongues, the sin of it all turning you on more. He finally breaks the kiss, out of breath as he chases your lips again before rethinking it. 

“I–”, he dives back in for a chaste kiss, “– own –” , another kiss, “–you.” He remains close, practically sharing each breath between you as you stare firmly into his blue eyes. He pulls out, motioning you to turn on to your hands and knees. You did as told, submitting fully. The lack of sight as he shuffled behind you should have been anxiety-inducing, but it wasn’t. 

He dragged the dull edge of his knife down the indent of your spine, the most gentle of pressure enough to leave goosebumps in its wake. But as he reached the curve of your lower back, he pressed inward, pushing the blade into your skin until it broke. You felt a pinch that quickly flowed into a sharp ache as small droplets pooled on the surface of your back. 

He hushed your panic, pushing your head back down to lay against the mattress. The wet muscle of what you quickly realized was his tongue gathered the mess, licking up your back as you shivered. 

“I could do horrific things to you.” The darkness in his tone made it abundantly clear that he meant every word. It was exhilarating. 

“But first, I wanna play.” 

He leaned over as he guided himself inside, meeting no resistance as he bottomed out. His teeth nipped at your ear, a sensitive spot on your part. He pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, uncharacteristically gentle.

From this angle he feels so much bigger, knocking the air from your lungs as you’re forced to accommodate his size. 

“Fu-” the curse dies in your throat as it turns into a choked gasp. 

He brings a hand back to your throat, applying pressure to both sides as he guides you to straighten up against him, making him hit new depths that have you hissing out. You mewl as he continues to thrust at an agonizingly slow pace, make sure you feel everything. 

“Look at you, whining like some slut.” He feels you clench at that, smiling into your skin. 

You can only moan in response as he slowly pulls back his hips, the ridges of his piercings gliding against your walls.

“You’re pitiful,” he groans into your ear, pressing his fingertips further against your throat, cutting off the circulation for only a moment. “Getting cockdrunk by some guy trying to kill you. You dirty fucking girl.” 

You can only continue your pathetic whines, reaching back to grasp onto him for stability. 

He slams back in, letting you drop forward. You hardly manage to keep yourself up, limbs jelly and unstable. Each time he snaps his hips forward, the sound of skin slapping ricochets off the bedroom walls around you. He grips your hip bone, forcing your hips to meet every thrust. 

“Tell me how good I’m making you feel, baby,” he huffs out, the building orgasm apparent in the slight shake of his voice. “Go ahead, say it.” His balls catch your clit, making your eyes cross as you struggle to stay present. 

“So good. Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you answer to best of your ability. Your answer was weak, eyes tearing up as you felt your gut clench. He was ruining you and he knew it.  He pulls you back upwards by the throat, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips as he moans into your mouth. 

“Say it again. Like you mean it.” 

“Fuck, right there, please. Feels so good — ha — I’m so close.” 

His fingers connect with your clit, working a mind-numbing pattern that has you nearly slipping out of unconsciousness as his vigorous thrusting returns. It’s harsh, the lines of pain and pleasure continuing to blur as you cum on his cock. Your body tenses in pleasure, everything fading into the background, before releasing as you collapse. 

His pace falters as his own orgasm takes over, spilling inside you as he cries out in ecstasy. You couldn’t even be bothered to consider the consequences of that at the moment, trying your best to catch your breath as you laid there together. 

Seconds turned to minutes as the reality of the situation passed over you. Dabi had hardly moved, staring at the ceiling as he reminisced on the last hour or so. You turned over to him, checking in on his current state. His blue eyes met yours with soft crinkling at the corners, heavy lidded eyes softening as he stared. 

“Come ‘ere,” he whispered. You obliged, leaning in close with the expectation of him wanting to tell you something. Instead he kissed you softly, a sharp contrast to the night’s previous events. He hummed in satisfaction against your lips, before pulling away reluctantly. 

“Was I too rough?”

 You shook your head assuringly, letting out a few tuts as though he was asking a stupid question. 

“Just asking.” He felt equally stupid asking, especially considering it was your idea, but he had to be sure. The bed dipped as he padded over to your shared bathroom, turning on the shower for the two of you. He leaned against the door frame, watching you curl into the sheets as you awaited the inevitable dragging to the bathroom for cleanup. 

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

TF141 Meeting Soap’s Little Sister (a.k.a. You)

CoD ML

The task force didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this. They already have to deal with Soap’s husky antics, which can already be too much to handle. Multiply that by two and no one, especially Simon, wants to deal with that.

But they certainly wouldn’t mind the company of the woman in the doorway.

Why on earth didn’t Soap warn them?

For John, it’s the sweater paws. For a second they make him selfishly want to dress you in one of his sweaters.

For Simon, it’s the way you shyly hide behind your brother, a habit you still have at your big age. Normally he loathes shows of fragility, but yours is endearing to him. For the first time in a very long while, it kindles something in him.

For Kyle, it’s your eyes. He simply can’t look away even though he’s aware it makes you uncomfortable.

“Lads, meet my sister, Y/N.” The adoration Soap has for you is plain to see in the gentle smile that plays out on his lips, proud to be your brother and amused you’ve barely changed from your younger days. Why else would you look at him, lowkey terrified of the strangers he’s brought into your home. “It’s awright, hen. They’re good men, even the big bawbag with the skull mask. Go oan an’ introduce yerself.”

Clutching your brother’s sleeve, relieved he’s home and glad for his protection, you introduce yourself. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

And in that moment, without so much as trying, you have your brother’s unit wrapped around your finger.

So much so that Simon removes his balaclava before he even crosses the threshold. Unbeknownst to you, it’s extremely rare to see the man without his mask and always leads to the unit members exchanging surprised glances.

“What’s this, LT?” your brother asks, badly faking disbelief.

“Proper etiquette. Plus, I can’t eat with the thing on.”

“Oh, so you do eat. I thought ghosts didn’t have ta.”

“Johnny…”

“Just messing with ye, Ghost.”

“Ghost?” you ask.

“It’s my callsign, miss. I- I mean, Y/N.” He keeps his distance, but tries to make himself as small as possible to seem less intimidating. “We ain’t on duty now, so’s just Simon.”

“I see.”

Throughout the night, your brother’s comrades try to win your favour. Kyle offers to help set the table, teaming up with John who beats him to it by lifting the stack of plates in your hands. “Can’t have the lady of the house do everything, can we?”

“But-“

“Please, Y/N, allow me.” His features soften, though there’s a strange glint in his eyes you can’t name. Nevertheless, it sharpens further into sterness as John turns around and starts speaking like you’d imagine he does out in the field. “Gaz, get over here. We have to help our hostess out.”

“You… you really don’t…”

“It’s the least we can do,” Kyle reassures you, shown up at your side at the first word of the captain. “We’ll try to do it neatly.”

“Oi, Gaz, stop being cheeky and get moving.”

“Yes, sir.” Kyle sighs. “He makes it sound like we’re on a battlefield. Fortunately, this is less severe, innit?”

“It might be if there aren’t glasses between now and ten seconds,” John mutters, circling around you two to put the last plates down and move on to cutlery.

“Ever the perfectionist. Where do you keep them?” Kyle asks.

You point at a cupboard. “Right there.”

“Okay. Y/N, we’ll do a proper job. Promise.” And with that, he’s off to help set the table.

While cooking, you observe Simon dawdling around the kitchen. Or, rather, as you discover when you lift your head to check what’s going on, he’s forced to thanks to Johnny.

“Och, just offer yer help. Ah dinnae ken, chop some veggies. Also, she’s into video games- Y/N!” Johnny slaps Simon on the shoulder, feigning ignorance. “Can this wee bawbag help ye with anything?”

“Stop calling me that,” Simon grumbles through gritted teeth.

“Do you cook?”

“He-“ Soap opens his mouth to answer for his friend yet finds himself cut short.

“Haud yer wheest, John. I was nae asking you, I was asking Simon.” Holding out your spatula as a threat to your brother, you turn to the gentle giant.

Simon looks at you through his lashes, but quickly averts his gaze when your eyes meet. “I dabble. Try to put proper grub on the table sometimes.”

“Help me do the same?”

“Uh… sure.”

“Lovely!”

“Have fun, LT.” Johnny offers you both a cheeky grin, then turns on his heel to return to the others.

And so Simon finds himself cooking alongside you. Truth be told, you partially did it to save him from his brothers in arms. Regardless of how well he knows them and the amount of time he’s spent with them, their extroverted personalities still wear him out. His silence is telling, different from the intimidating version he dropped the moment you opened the door. You’ve seen how his eyes glaze over, occupied with dreams you can only guess at. Occasionally he’ll nod and make a noise to make the others think he’s listening.

Nevertheless, it’s still surprising Simon tries to start a conversation.

A conversation that goes in all sorts of, mostly nerdy, directions. So soon you find yourself listening to elaborate explanations of the lore of various FromSoftware games, a topic Simon passionately enlightens you on.

He stops mid-sentence when you chuckle. “What?”

“You have a nice voice.”

“Oh… uh… thanks.”

“Jesus, Y/N, you’re some kind of miracle worker.” Gaz walks into the kitchen to grab another beer from the fridge. “How’d you get Ghost to talk?”

Simon glowers at his companion, but stands down when you gesture for him to remain calm. “Sometimes you simply need the right person, a genuine heart that listens. Now, boys, let’s eat.”

“Food?” Johnny calls from the couch.

“My days, what are ye? A husky?” you call, only partially truly annoyed.

Dinner is an amiable affair. The men (yes, even Soap) censor themselves, finding it inappropriate to start effin and blindin in your company. All the same, they include you in the conversation however possible and fall silent when they notice you want to chime in. Unbeknownst to you all, Johnny is especially vigilant none of the other men makes an advance towards you. Sure, you’re a grown woman. Nonetheless, to him, you’ll always be the wee bairn he held as a four-year-old boy, the barely grown girl who couldn’t stop crying when he was deployed for the first time.

You’re his little sister, the only girl he’d gift the moon if he could.

That being said, though, should you end up with any member of the unit, he dearly hopes it’s Simon. So it’s actually quite reassuring for him to see you two get along as well as you do.

“Two peas in a pod,” Soap mumbles, the words muffled by beer and the clinking of cutlery.

The lads gesture for you to remain seated while they clear the table and do the dishes.

“‘S alright, Y/N. Leave it to us,” John says when you try to get up from your chair.

“You really don’t-“

“No, no. Please.” The bear-like hand on your shoulder is gentle though strong, persuasive in its conviction for you to remain seated. “A small favour, really, to repay your kindness.”

The table cleared, John and Simon excuse themselves for a quick smoke. In the meanwhile, Johnny and Kyle wash the dishes.

For dessert, you sit the men down with coffee and tea to enjoy with a scone.

Kyle falls a little more for you when you show you’re full of contrasts. Shy on the surface yet so fierce when defying your brother. “I was doing fine, crocheting my time away without puppy antics.”

“I’m nae like a dog.” Your brother stops mid-bite to protest.

“Johnny, yer a bloody husky.”

“Well, at least I’m one that did nae get shot.”

“Oh, haud yer wheesht, like you ever will. Just enjoy yer scone and tea. Wait!” You hasten to the fridge to retrieve a jar of orange marmelade. “Here, have this.”

“Homemade?”

“‘Course. It’s not like I’ve forgotten how you dislike store bought.”

“Thanks, sis.”

“Thank you for coming back in one piece, bro.” You turn to the men, who all sit up, alert. “And thank you for bringing my brother home.”

John has to restrain himself and not give into the urge to plop you in his lap. To make sure he won’t, he tucks his hands between his legs when you brush past him to retake your seat across the table.

Simon is good at hiding his emotions, but definitely wouldn’t mind it if you leaned on him and talked some more about video gaming. He loves the way your whole expression brightens when you do and would like nothing better than for you to be his player number two.

Stories and small talk, with the occasional silence to appreciate being alive and well, fills the kitchen as the arms of the clock creep closer to midnight.

At some point you stifle a yawn. Unfortunately, not before your brother catches you doing so. Johnny looks at the clock then back at you. “Alright, lads, it’s been great. However, despite her stubborn arse refusing to admit it, Y/N’s getting tired. Now being the great big brother I am,” the harsh slap on the upper arm does little to make him pipe down, “I think it’s time I show all of you the door.”

John, Kyle, and Simon get up without so much as a word of protest. After all, it’s bad etiquette to wear your hostess out nor does it help your chances with her.

You expected only a handshake as a farewell. Nevertheless, it’s hard to refuse the open invitation for a hug John gives you. His embrace is warm and gentle, testing out the waters to see what you will and won’t allow. His chest rises and falls with a satisfied sigh when you let him rest his head on top of yours. To be honest, it’s nice and comforting, the way he rubs some heat into your arms. “Goodnight, love. Thank you for the splendid evening.”

Kyle’s hug is more casual, like you’re a dear friend he’ll see again in the short run.

“Can I get a hug from you too?” you ask the man standing by the door, who has his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. For a moment Simon seems about to step forward. Yet, for whatever reason, he remains where he stands.

“I don’t think-“

“Please?”

How can he say no now? His mind short-circuits when you wrap your arms around his waist. His hands hover in the air for a moment before he places them lightly on your shoulders. “Thanks for tonight, Y/N.”

“Had fun?”

“I did.”

“Glad to hear it. Also,” you lean back to look at him, “keep the mask off. You’re not a lieutenant here, not Ghost.”

An amused hum escapes Simon, though later in the car he’d have to keep denying Kyle’s allegations he saw him smile. “Copy.”

“Go oan, I won’t keep you any longer.”

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Simon.”

You watch the men clamber into John’s car. They’re all staying the night at his place before heading off home.

“You like him, don’t ye?”

“Who?”

“Ghost.”

“I don’t know him.” Johnny gives you a quizzical look. “Simon, though, perhaps. He’s a good man.”

“He is.”

The only man who has his blessing to court you.

Who he hopes will truly be family one day.

His future brother-in-law.

[flxfthm]

I don't know if you ever said it before, but do you think Gabriel was a good villain?

mmm i guess the answer is yes because i think he's a good character? and the things that make him a "bad" villain are intentional flaws and weaknesses that make him more human. he's arrogant, short-sighted, and all his wins are attributed to outside help from nathalie, tomoe, or even felix !!! but he's not really meant to be seen as a schemer, as the way he exerts power over people is through his status. as he claims in pretention and as felix highlights in his play, the empire he's built and the resources he has access to make him the most intimidating, it's about "gabriel agreste" as a symbol of influence, who can control people in more ways than one.

he shines the most in S5 as he fully loses it and his dehumanization of adrien reaches ridiculously cruel extremes with the alliance rings, which are one of my personal favorite visual metaphors in the show altogether. it's sort of what i'm getting at, that you can see gabriel increasingly more corrupt with every passing season, and with that he also loses all the plausible deniability he was operating with from the start. the agreste story arc of S1-S5 is ultimately about questioning the consequences of our choices and the power we each hold as individuals, and gabriel is a physical manifestation of our worst possible selves. he's unapologetically selfish from his first to last appearance and even when he seems to come to recognize the results of his insanity, he cowardly leaves marinette to clean up his mess & deal with the aftermath.

while nathalie snapped out of it earlier than him & tried making amends for her actions by doing the bare minimum for adrien with the time she had left, and as felix ended up trading his cynicism for a positive outlook through the power of love, gabriel remained stubborn in his ways and his goal changed from the noble-sounding promise to reunite his family to, like, sticking it to those morally righteous brats as he grew mad with power. like akumas are people possessed by their negative emotions, gabriel is consumed by his regrets without even realizing it, and he's a cautionary tale for marinette to remember so that she doesn't end up like him. felix got to find out for himself pretty quickly how it felt becoming the monster that he thought his father was, that gabriel agreste was, and he immediately changed his path. but for marinette, whose life mirrors gabriel's own, the stakes are much higher and she's yet to come to terms with whether the choices she made in the S5 finale & london special were morally reprehensible after all. even with his physical disappearance, gabriel's control of the media, the people, and his son, have all been passed down to marinette and he still lives on through her. she could arbitrarily sympathize with felix's motivations as they both fought for adrien's sake and eventually their own romantic interests, but this time she's in a situation that would greatly affect and endanger her own life, and that's where the question initially posed to gabriel comes back to her - how far is she willing to go to keep things as they are, and how long will it be before she's also consumed by regrets?

the marinette/felix/gabriel spectrum really fascinates me because these characters have a ton of flaws in common as well as a similar way of thinking, and the distinction only lies in how instilled those mindsets are, and how easy or hard it would be to change them. marinette is always second-guessing, always unsure of herself; felix knows who he is, he has causes he vehemently advocates for but he's willing to make the occasional sacrifice or two if they'll benefit him in the long run, and he'll learn from past mistakes when things blow up in his face - and as for gabriel? he never makes any compromises, never reflects on himself, not once does he try and make an attempt until it's too late to change things.

and the way all of this ties with the show's message definitely makes him an incredible villain to me. thematically, he archieved his purpose in miraculous' first story arc and was an amazing nemesis to the main character. my only real complaints are only about how much more could've been done with these parallels while he was still active as the primary antagonist, or how we were only told about gabriel's past in the last minute, even if it was purposefully hidden. however i'm really excited for lila to succeed him as the theme of lies will surely be the most prominent in the second story arc, and i hope i'm correct in assuming that'll mean gabriel replacing emilie as the entity the narrative revolves around.