#Ignore me--I just saw some REALLY gross takes that set me off

[zeshaika]

Power Rangers Characters I love mostly because I get tired of how the (shipping) fandom has vilified them to justify more popular ships.

Who also deserved SO MUCH better and had so much more potential than the shitty (and in Kat's case, almost misogynistic) writing they were given.

That, and I just think they're neat. (And both of them were really fun as brainwashed evil characters, and I'd love to see more fics about them dealing with the psychological trauma that them trying to recover from that probably had on them).

(Also---they're both super pansexual, and you can't change my mind.)

[hayleythesugarbowl]

Hi! I wanted to say I love the way you write everybody from Smosh. I think you capture their essence perfectly in the dialogues. I especially loved the Ian and Spencer fics :)

Also, I know requests are closed at the moment, and I'm sorry if I'm bothering you, but I wanted to share my idea. If you ever get the inspiration to write it (and the time, of course) it would be so cool. If not, no worries ^^

I would love a Spencer x reader fic where he gets jealous/overprotective. Maybe you're at a club and some drunk guy flirts with you, or you're at the beach in a swimsuit, or you're doing a collab with somebody etc. Whatever setting inspires you most. Maybe it gets a bit angsty too 👀

Thank you for the amazing fics! Have a great day, and I hope your pillow is always cold on both sides :))

Fight Club || Spencer Agnew x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist  ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: when you’re at a club with spencer and you get hit on by a drunk man, you are annoyed that spencer feels like he has to protect you. but then, when things go too far, you get to see just how much spencer cares for you

word count: 1.8k

warnings: cursing, gross man harasses you

a/n: first of all, i can’t get over this picture send help. second, thank you sm love — characterization is really important to me and i’m so glad i’m doing an ok job!! i hope you enjoy this, protective spencer makes me weak 😩 also fem!reader bc it made sense

(and my pillow has been extra cool lately, i think you work magic 🤭)

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     “Ah, this reminds me of my clubbing days,” Amanda sighed, taking in the crowded scene around you. “We had some times back then.”

     “What are you talking about, we went to a club together last weekend,” Shayne reminded her.

     “Oh yeah,” she said. “I’m going to go get a drink. See you couples later.”

     She left and then it was just you, Spencer, Shayne, and Courtney standing together by the entrance. 

     “Hey!” Courtney announced, looking at Shayne and listening to the song that was blasting at full volume. “This is our jam!”

     Shayne smiled at his wife. “We can’t ignore that.”

     Courtney grabbed their husband’s hand, pulling him into the center of the crowd to dance. You grinned at how in love they were.

     You turned to Spencer. “Looks like it’s just you and me.”

     He grabbed your hands, kissing you on the cheek. “Looks like it.”

     You were here at this club with some of the Smosh cast, a few of you having decided to have some fun after a long week of filming. 

     You enjoyed their company, but you couldn’t pretend that you weren’t glad to be alone with Spencer.

     You two had recently started dating, and you couldn’t be more happy together. And you couldn’t be more happy that Spencer was here. Neither one of you were exactly club people and, well, at least you had each other in this chaos.

     “How did we get dragged into this again?” Spencer asked you and you giggled.

     “Let’s just try to have fun,” you said.

     “Alright, but I’m getting us some drinks or something,” Spencer told you. “You think they have any Kickstart here?”

     He walked over towards the other end of the place, and you lost him in the crowd. You rested your elbow on the bar in front of you, waiting for Spencer to return.

     You let your eyes scan the club, finding Courtney and Shayne in the crowd. You saw Amanda a ways off, chatting up some other woman, arms gesturing wildly. 

     “So, do you come here often?” 

      You looked around you. The man who had spoke leaned across the bar, waiting for your answer. 

     “No,” you said. “Never been.”

     “Well, let me know if you want any drink recommendations,” he told you. “I know this place like the back of my hand.”

     “Oh, um, thanks,” you said, wondering exactly what that meant. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

     He took a sip of the drink he held, eyes never leaving your face. 

     “You got a boyfriend?” He asked.

     “Actually I—”

     “‘Cause you’re awfully pretty to be here all alone,” the man interrupted. 

     “Good thing she’s not then,” you heard Spencer’s voice from behind you. 

     He came up next to you, staring down the man at the bar.

     “And who might you be?” He sized up Spencer.

     “I happen to be (Y/n)’s boyfriend,” he put his arm around your shoulders. “She’s mine. And you are?” 

     “Yeah okay,” The man scoffed, standing up completely and setting his glass down. He ignored Spencer, looking at you. “Later (Y/n).”

     He left, but not before turning around to look at you one last time as he walked away. 

     “Yeah you better run,” Spencer said, even though the man wouldn’t be able to hear him.

     “What a jerk,” Spencer turned to you. “They did not, in fact, have any kickstart, by the way, so we’re going to have to get through this sober.”

     “Okay what was that?” You put your hands on your hips.

     “What was what?” Spencer searched your face.

     “I could’ve handled that guy myself, you know,” you said. “And for all you know, he was just being nice.”

     “(Y/n), did you see the way he was looking at you? That wasn’t nice, that’s the way some snakes look at gerbils and stuff before they eat them.”

     You raised an eyebrow at him. 

     “I don’t know, Amanda had me watch some documentary,” he waved the topic away. “But seriously, that wasn’t just friendly.”

      You knew he was right. You’d encountered enough men like him to know. Still, you wanted Spencer to know you could handle yourself. That you didn’t need him scaring men away for you.

     “Sure you’re not just jealous?” you joked, rolling your eyes at him.

     “Oh, one hundred percent,” Spencer said, surprising you. “Look at you. There’s probably loads of guys here who would give their right arm to take you home tonight.”

      A muscle ticked in his jaw and you saw his fingers form a fist by his side. “But I also know that there’s some people here who are real creeps, and that guy’s one of them.”

     “And you don’t think I can deal with them?” You asked, honestly.

     He shrugged, a stark contrast to the wild look that was still in his eyes. “Doesn’t matter, cause I want to…deal with them.”

      “Whatever, I’m going to see if I can catch up with Amanda,” you said, turning around before Spencer could catch up with you. 

      You didn’t look back, making your way through the crowds of people and towards the back of the club.

     You knew you were being stupid and stubborn, but you didn’t want Spencer to think he had to fight your battles for you.

     You weren’t really paying attention to where you where going as you scanned the crowd for one of your friends. 

     “Hello again.”

     You looked up to find yourself face to face with the guy from before. 

     “Hey,” you said, smiling quickly before trying to walk past him. He stepped closer to you, stumbling forward.

     “Not so fast, pretty girl,” he slurred. “You haven’t let me buy you a drink yet.”

     “That’s ok,” you told him, taking another step forward that he blocked. “I should really head back to my friends.”

     “That pathetic excuse for a boyfriend?” He leaned even closer and you noticed the smell of alcohol on his breath. “Forget him. Let me show you a good time.”

     “I’m really not interested,” you tried again, trying not to panic as he cornered you. 

     “‘Course you are,” he said. “Let me take you back to my place and we can—”

     “For the last time,” you started, your voice raising. You were done being nice to him. “I said I’m—”

     He grabbed your wrist then and you cried out, struggling against his grip.

     You were aware of the fact that he could easily overpower you and that no one around you was paying attention as they danced to the music. 

    “Hey man, you wanna get your fucking hands off my girlfriend?” a voice said calmly.

     The man let go of you suddenly and you turned around for the second time that night to find Spencer. You didn’t know how he got there, but in that moment you were just eternally grateful that he was there 

     “Get lost, bastard,” the man said. “This doesn’t concern you.”

     “Actually I think it very much does concern me,” he said, stepping between you and the man, grabbing your hand subtly as he did so, your fingertips touching his. “And I also think it’s time for you to go.”

     “Your girlfriend wants me,” the man said. “Go ahead and ask her.”

     He started to reach towards you over Spencer’s shoulder but Spencer backed up, pushing you with him, tightening his grip on you. 

     “You so much as lay a finger on her again and I’ll throw hands,” he said, his voice like ice.

     You had never seen him like this before. He was usually pretty calm, even tempered, good humored—you hadn’t seen him so much as hurt a fly. 

     But now he looked like he would actually beat this man up if it came down to it.

     The drunk man seemed to realize this too, and didn’t want to cause a scene, because he shook his head, relaxing his posture. 

     “This isn’t worth it,” he mumbled, looking over Spencer’s shoulder at you. “You’re a bitch anyways!”

     He turned around and walked away. You let out a breath, your shoulders falling from their rigid pose.

     “Thank god, I almost thought I was going to have to fight that man,” Spencer breathed out. “I love you, but he was pushing 6’5”.” 

     You laughed breathlessly as Spencer turned around to you, pulling you into his arms. 

     “Are you ok?” He asked, pulling back to get a good look at you. “I’m so sorry you had to deal with that.”

     “I’m fine, Spence,” you said. “Thanks to you. How did you even know where we were?”

     Spencer rubbed the back of his neck with one of his hands. “I might’ve followed you.”

     “Well, I’m really glad you did,” you told him. “You were right.”

     “Really? I thought you’d be pissed.”

     You weren’t. You realized you didn’t care so much any more about making a show of taking care of yourself. Spencer had kind of saved your ass. If it wasn’t for him, who knows what would have happened. You shuddered thinking about it.  Besides, you were partners—and that meant being there for one another. You didn’t have to do everything on your own.

And seeing Spencer tonight, being so protective of you, made you realize how much he cared for you. It was sweet knowing that he would defend you and stand up for you. 

     “I don’t know,” you said, your tone light. “I kind of liked seeing this side of you.”

     Spencer raised an eyebrow. “Well then, we might have to come to clubs more often.”

     “I vote no on that one,” you said.

    “I couldn’t agree more. Now c’mon,” he flicked his head towards the door. “Let’s get out of here.”

     You nodded. “What about the others?” 

     “I’ll text them and tell them we got a cab.”

     You walked in silence for a moment, the noise of the club filling your ears.

     “I can’t believe you almost fought a man,” you teased.

     “Hey, it was about to be Fight Club in there,” he cracked his knuckles. “I don’t think you know what that movie’s about,” you laughed, grabbing his hand.

“Seriously though, you don’t think I could have taken him?” Spencer asked, amusement in his eyes.

     “If he was a character in a video game? Absolutely.”

     “Ouch,” Spencer clutched his chest. “Still have to work on my public perception.”

     You giggled as Spencer opened the door for you and you felt the cool, night air on your cheeks.

     “But, I don’t know, you did look pretty determined. I would have bet money that you would have at least knocked a few teeth out.”

      “I would’ve liked to. He was looking at you like…like…”

     “…like he wanted to make me his?” You finished. 

     “Exactly” Spencer ran a hand through his hair, before kissing you gently. 

     “And only I get to look at you like that.”

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ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you guys enjoyed!! ahh this is the last of the fics i had to catch up on!! i feel so accomplished lol time for my sleep schedule to go back to normal. see y’all again when my requests are open. 💋🎀

[takenbypeter]

Not A Date, Date

Steven Grant x reader

Words: 883

Author’s note: this is an old fic I’ve had in my notes since last summer

You don’t know why you said yes.

Well actually you do. You said yes because, well, it’s Steven Grant the cute man who was the whole reason you kept going back to the museum. Steven Grant, the cute gift shop merchant who kept giving you information about Egypt despite him being glued to that counter. He was cute, adorably charming with his accent and he was quite the looker.

But you?

You didn’t think of yourself in that exact light. Actually in this moment you were staring at yourself in your bathroom mirror.

You were wearing an outfit which you’ve worn a few times before but this time something about it wasn’t sitting right.

As you turned to look at your back you couldn’t help but point out every bump that showed.

And while you stood there you couldn’t stop your arms from grabbing at your upper back beginning to feel slightly grossed out.

Before your thoughts could get worse, you quietly shook your head and headed straight for the closet. First changing your top into something a little baggier then of course that meant you had to change the bottom to match.

You went back to the mirror and turned around feeling slightly better at the view but something still felt…off.

As you stood across from the mirror your hands came in front cupping each other. One hand on top and one hand on bottom and like that you squeezed your fingers tight only for a few moments as you stared at yourself your brows beginning to crease in the mirror.

And after thirty seconds of that you realized you couldn’t do this. Maybe not tonight, maybe not ever.

Reaching for your phone you sat on the toilet lid and typed out a message to Steven.

“Can’t make it tonight,” you spoke as you typed and you set the phone down. Upset at yourself for the possibility of disappointing him, you felt this would actually be better for both of you. Expecting a text notification you were surprised when your phone rang instead.

Picking it up once more you noticed it was Steven calling.

You thought about ignoring it. Just forgetting everything happened but instead you hit the answer button and put the phone up to your ear.

“Hello?” You asked.

“Hi, this is Steven. Well you probably knew that,” you couldn’t help but smile a little at his clumsy mannerism, “but am I reading your message right? You want to cancel. Five minutes before our date?”

You looked up at your ceiling staring at the blank color taking in some air, “yeah sorry about that.”

“Did something come up? Did I do something to make you uncomfortable? Did I do something wrong?”

“No. No. Absolutely not,” great now you hated yourself for making him feel this way. “I just…” you closed your eyes head finally swaying down. “I know this may be hard to believe, or it might be easy to believe, I don’t know. But this is my first date.”

“…It’s your first date?”

“Please don’t make fun of me—“

“No of course not, I would never—“

“I already know I’m gonna mess up somehow. I’ll say something wrong or do something really weird,” your eyes roamed the room trying not to break down.

“And we’re going to a classy restaurant. Steven I still order from the kids menu. I barely know how to use a fork for a salad,” you shook your head just picturing how horrible the night is going to go.

The phone was silent and for a moment you were worried you’d lost him.

“I’m in front of your door, can you open it so we can talk face to face, please?”

You pressed your lips together in thought before you went to your front door. And once you opened it you saw those curls and big brown eyes staring at you as his phone was still pressed to his ear.

Bringing the phone down you hung up and he did too, shoving his own back into his jacket pocket. Your eyes drifted down to the small box he had in his hand, no doubt a gift for you.

“Steven thank you for everything but I don’t think—“

“I’m canceling our date.”

“Huh?” That statement got you.

“You don’t have to worry about anything. It’s done it’s cancelled.”

Honestly you did not expect that to happen so easily you expected more of a fight.

“Oh, well thank you and I’m sorry, I was actually really looking forward to it.”

Steven rocked on his feet as you talked. “It’s alright,” he looked to the side, blowing air out of his mouth, “so…got any plans tonight?”

You peered at him curiously.

“Because we could walk around town, just the two of us, no pressure.”

You knew what he was doing and frankly you were sort of grateful for it.

“And by the end of the night we’ll see what we can call it,” he added and you grinned at his proposal.

Nodding you said, “let’s do it,” and Steven grinned back at you. “Oh wait let me grab my things,” you disappear back into your house only to reemerge soon after. And with your bag on your shoulder and the door shut you finally were ready, “let’s go.”

[heartbreakgrill]

stiles stilinski: breakable heaven; pt. 3, “devils rolls the dice, angels roll their eyes. if i bleed, you’ll be the last to know.”

description: situationship x stiles.

stiles: hey :)

y/n: hello! don’t let coach see u on ur phone, loser :)

stiles: i know, i know. just thinking of you

y/n: oh?

y/n’s throat tightened. she looked up across the lunch room, past danny’s head. her stare blanked at the wall. he was thinking of her. thinking of her…how? that was a very loaded statement to make. it was…flirtatious. caring. it was a strings attached kind of statement. it was dangerous.

her phone buzzed.

stiles: thinking of that lacey bra you had on the other day, mostly :)

y/n flushed, a red, hot buzz radiating off her skin. she nearly choked on her spit, and had to take a quick sip of water. danny- who was shooting off at the mouth about something during the lacrosse game last friday- barely glanced at her. he kept blabbering.

this? y/n was good at this. she didn’t have to look him in the eye while saying the dirtjest things she could. this was just her, her phone, and her imagination.

y/n: today it’s red

stiles: pics or it didn’t happen

stiles…was not good at this. she didn’t expect him to be. he was awkward, no matter what. but, it took the pressure off of most of the stressful things in life. that’s part of what she was starting to value most in his character.

y/n: come see for yourself ;)

stiles: fuck, i’m in econ!

y/n: excuses, excuses

stiles: no, no, i would if i could, i promise!

y/n: prove it, then ;)

stiles: meet me in the locker room in 5

y/n pocketed her phone, grabbed her bag.

it had been nearly a week since their first time. she thought about it almost every second of every day. it was clouding the heartbreak that had lingered on her like freezing rain. it was loosening her mangled mind.

she hadn’t expected for them to fuck every single day since then. but, neither of them had said anything about it. she was half-worried that she was so terrible, he didn’t want anything to do with that aspect of their relationship. instead, they’d just been texting a lot about other stuff. music, movies, books. they were bonding.

it was cool to have another friend, but god- she wanted him.

stiles had been dealing with his own issues. he, scott, lydia, allison- they’d spent a night tracking boyd and cora, after searching for a week to find them in the vault. it was an exhausting gig, on top of lacrosse practice, the game last friday, homework. he hadn’t had time to really think about getting laid.

but, now, here he was- monday at 12:10pm, during economics, with coach yelling like a banshee- he tried to focus on the chalkboard, on the text highlighted in his book. all he could think about was her. her skin, delicate beneath his fingertips. her lips, so plump against his neck. her legs-

he dumped his shit into his backpack and shouldered it quickly. scott whipped his head towards his friend, concerned. then, the werewolf caught a whiff of stiles’ hormones. scott crinkled his expression, grossed out. but, he shot stiles a half-hearted thumbs up.

coach called after the boy, “hey, next time, let’s try, excuse me, may i use the restroom, k?”

coach continued on with some angry remark, but stiles ignored him.

he made it to the locker room, quickly, nearly out of breath from how fast his pace was. stiles tossed the door open, and it slammed shut behind him. y/n wasn’t visible to him. he set down his bag, “y/n? hello?”

stiles looked around every which corner, but she wasn’t there. he pulled out his phone, and saw a text from her.

y/n: was on my way, but danny made me go stalk the new boy ethan in study hall. i’m so so sorry stiles! i’m totally going to make it up to. what are you doing 6th period?????

stiles’ shoulders dropped. he slouched down on one of the benches, feeling a little blue-balled. then, a second text dinged.

y/n: also here, for now ;) 1 attached photo

he nearly broke his phone. it flipped out of his hand, and he jumped from the bench to grab it before it hit the floor. he fell onto his knees, awkwardly holding the device in the air. the picture stared back at him. she’d slipped into the school bathroom to take a picture for him. for him. stiles.

he fell over, again, this time onto his stomach. stiles groaned, annoyedly, into the concrete floor of the locker room. his life sucked so bad.

the bell rang for lunch.

–

stiles: all yours, baby. see you, then

y/n, now in history, felt her breath hitch at the text. baby? baby. he called her baby. she knew, a lot of the times, people used pet names when they were sexting. but, this…was strange for a guy like stiles. he wasn’t fluid or, by any means, good at sexting. he wasn’t the type to know to say that. he wasn’t the type to…y/n overthought it every which way that she possibly could.

and, then, he texted her again.

stiles: you are so, so beautiful. 1 attached photo

y/n choked on her spit this time. she dropped her phone onto the desk, coughing hysterically. danny, seated behind her, leaned forward. he patted her back, asked her if she was okay. she gave him a thumbs up, kind of.

stiles was wearing underwear with pickles on them.

and he was very, very hard.

the bell rang, signaling the end of the transitional period, and the instructor began the lesson. y/n took a swig of water. she was sweating a little bit. she was struggling to sit still.

someone’s phone dinged. the instructor called out, “please, everyone, take a moment to put your phones away.”

y/n grabbed her cell, staring intensely at the photo as she slowly, painfully, leaned over to put it in her bag.

–

y/n: do you know how hard it was to pay attention in class, thinking about you like that?

y/n: i want to take care of you so badly

y/n: i’m in the locker room, where are you?

y/n: please, stiles. need you

stiles phone buzzed, four times, in the back of his jeans pocket. scott, ethan, and aiden glanced over at him. he cleared his throat, scratched the side of his neck.

“let me, just…” he stepped aside from the conversation to look at his phone screen.

his face turned beat red.

he hasn’t forgotten about their plans, but time got away from him. it was 6th period, and he was stuck interrogating alpha werewolves about supernatural shit. it was in times like these, when he wished life was normal. unfortunately, life is anything but.

stiles: i’m so fucking sorry. scott needed me for something. please don’t be mad at me. next period, promise

y/n: you know girls can get blue ball too?

y/n: it’s just easier to hide.

y/n: good luck :) 1 attached photo

oh, fuck.

–

7th period.

y/n was marching towards the locker room. she dumped her book bag at her locker, intending to be done with school for the day, since her next class would be her free period. she had one very important, very…big thing on her mind.

y/n was just around the corner from the locker room when a voice called out her name. she skidded to a stop, shoulders tense, and a huff on her lips, where stiles’ should be.

“y/n…the bell rang four minutes ago,” miss blake spoke, looking pointedly in y/n’s eyes.

y/n smiled, so painfully fake, “yes, ma’am.”

“so, you have one minute to get to my class on time. yet, you seem to be headed for the locker room. do you have a late pass?” miss blake was on her high fucking horse today, it seemed.

y/n shook her head, lips pursed in annoyance, “no, ma’am.”

“oh, silly me, then,” she rolled her eyes in a funny manner, “you must just be turning around then. here, we can walk together?”

miss blake looped her arm through y/n’s, and led them towards the english classroom at the other end of the hall.

y/n didn’t get a chance to text stiles back, but she just knew the poor boy was about to burst.

–

stiles: here

stiles: i can’t wait to touch you

stiles: oh my god i just saw miss blake literally drag you away from me

stiles: i’m gonna die

stiles: don’t even try to apologize, it’s literally not your fault. and i can survive with not getting off for a little while longer. guilt free zone here :)

stiles: but oh my god you’re so fucking pretty

stiles: you look so good today. and your ass looks good in those jeans

stiles: ok have fun in english. text me when you’re out. if you can. please. thanks

incoming call from: y/n :)

“y/n?”

“stiles!”

“speaking?”

“it’s my free period.”

“meet me at my jeep in 5.”

“im already here.”

–

stiles parked his jeep behind the lacrosse field. he watched y/n climb into the back seat, painfully slow in her movements. she settled onto the bench in the back of his jeep, blushing already, smiling shyly. stiles waited but a second to climb towards her. only he was a million times more awkward about it. stiles clambered through the vehicle.

“oh-!” y/n touched his back gently, assuring he safely made it back there.

his face was close to hers once he was seated. stiles flashed a sweet grin, “hi.”

“hi,” she giggled lightly. “how are you doing?”

“i’m doing swell, thank you,” stiles eyed her lips, the low curve of her v-neck t-shirt.

y/n took a breath to speak, her chest expanding. stiles watched her watched the tops of her breasts move. she barely said, “i was-“

before stiles interrupted, “i am so totally interested in what you have to say, but i really fucking need to touch you and kiss you, so please shut the fuck up.”

the soft sound of the low-volume radio and the idling engine was background noise. stiles’ windows were tinted just enough to dull out the light inside. it was tight, and they struggled against each other more than once. but stiles was more than happy to bend into strange positions so that y/n was comfortable. she didn’t ask him to- but he insisted. he insisted on putting his jacket beneath her head, so she could have a makeshift pillow. he insisted that she didn’t have to give him a blow job, so that she wouldn’t have to squeeze onto her knees behind the front seat. sure, they might have been bare minimum, consensual things that weren’t anything to write home about. but in this day and age, a boy muttering, “‘is okay?” each and every time he moved against y/n was enough to give her butterflies. it meant he cared. stiles cared.

the first time they had sex, it was just sex. they fucked, she went to the bathroom afterwards, and when she got back, he was dressed, ready to leave. stiles hadn’t known what he was supposed to do, but he figured she didn’t want him to linger.

this time, after he pulled out, wrapped the condom, and tossed it into the mini trash can in the front seat, stiles scooted over far enough on the bench to allow her room to lay down beside him. this time, it was heated…passionate. romantic.

y/n wasn’t even thinking, she was just caught up in the moment. she lay her head on his bare chest, ear cupped so she could hear his heartbeat. he was sticky with sweat, and his breathing was quick and loud. but he was warm, comfortable, and…strong. she’d never noticed that before. how defined his chest was. he was a lacrosse player, after all. even if he spent most of the time on the bench, he was still working out.

stiles tensed up under her affection, at first, but he became comfortable soon enough. he peered down at y/n. she stared off into space, and her expression was hidden from him. stiles gently slid his arm around her and the tips of his fingers floated up and down her bicep.

“what’re you thinking about?” stiles found himself saying.

y/n took a breath, regaining some semblance of awareness after she had been caught up in a daydreaming feeling. usually, after sex, she always felt…distanced. like she was behind glass. the air was slowly being sucked out of the box by her own lungs. she was suffocating.

the first time with stiles- it had felt like that, if only because of her internal battle with her feelings for sam. her mind had been racing with over wrung thoughts.

other times, like with sam, it was because the sex had felt like a transaction, like a consummation of some small part of her she’d never get it. this whole new generation was focused on sexual liberation- and y/n was into that. sex was awesome- it felt good. but, that idea completely ignored the fact that, most often, sex between a teenage boy and girl was laced with miscommunication and manipulation.

this time- this time was good. this time felt- liberating. it felt good. she got off. sure, she’d gotten off a few other hands, if only at her own hands. but, this time- stiles had made her feel good. and, she didn’t feel shitty because she wasn’t trying to get some small form of intimacy from someone she wanted to love and have. no, this time it was really just sex. sex with someone kind, considerate, and unattached.

(even if they were cuddling and neither of them wanted to admit how good that felt.)

“not much,” y/n lied through her teeth.

stiles caught a piece of her hair between his fingers and tugged at mindlessly. it tickled the back of her neck. stiles was hoping she was going to say something heartfelt, something sweet. he had gotten his hopes, for no reason. after all, he knew the rules. “fair. uh, hey, listen…i should probably-“

“oh, yeah, no, of course,” y/n sat up quickly, covering herself with his jacket.

they settled, side by side, on the seats of the jeep. y/n shifted awkwardly, reaching across his lap for her t-shirt that shoved between the wall and the seat. stiles reached her direction for his own shirt. they stumbled over each other for a second or two, muttering sorry’s and elbowing sides. then they were holding their respective clothing pieces.

they dressed in silence.

“i’ll drive you back, okay?” stiles offered.

y/n tugged her shirt down her torso, breathing deeply, “uh, sure, yeah. yeah.”

so, stiles drove them back over to the main parking lot. school was just letting out for the day. stiles spotted scott running down the front steps, seemingly in a rush, as the jeep came to a stop beside y/n’s car.

“listen, uh,” she turned her knees towards him, jaw open with a buffering conversation.

stiles wasn’t paying attention, but she didn’t notice. he was too busy watching scott, who was now talking to allison. and, then he saw derek power walking towards them.

“yeah, hey, um, could you send it in a text? i’ve gotta get somewhere. thanks for- that. yep!” stiles popped open the jeep door. he slid out, in a hurry, slamming the door shut before she could get another word in.

y/n sat there, for a moment, in utter shock. she took a deep, unsettled breath.

she needed to call danny.

–

“yeah, that’s fucking strange.”

y/n plopped onto her bed, rocking danny in his spot beside her. she took a hit from her cart, letting the smoke roll out as she replied with, “isn’t that fucking strange? like, it’s not that i expected we cuddle for twenty minutes and be all cutesy. but, the way he just rushed me out of there? that was weird.”

“maybe he’s pushing you cause he’s scared of having feelings for you,” danny tossed a ball of popcorn into his mouth, shrugging nonchalantly.

y/n rolled her eyes. she shifted onto her stomach, shoving her head into her pillow. “ugh,” she groaned, loudly. “you know, maybe i should end things right now. it’s gonna get complicated, i can already tell.“

“wait, okay,” danny pulled the pillow out from beneath her. she looked up at him. “let’s do a pro and con list before we make any rash decisions.“

“literally why?” y/n questioned.

danny waved her off, “cause it gives me entertainment. besides, it’ll be fun. now, give me a pro…”

she thought, tapped her chin as if it helped, “i think it’s helping me get over sam. i mean, i’ve stopped driving past his work. and i unfriended his mom on facebook. don’t think about him as much.”

danny clapped lightly, “aw, wait, yay. that’s such good news! best pro ever. okay, now, con.”

“um,” she hummed, “maybe…i don’t know. like, it’s complicated. like, it’s gonna be complicated.”

“yeah, but what’s complicated about it? nothing! so, one of you catches feelings- fuck it. you figure it out. i know another pro- the sex if fucking good. it’s making you feel good. you’ve got a goddamn glow about you, babe. you’re getting over bitch boy, you’re moving along. it’s not complicated.”

“i just,” y/n lay her head down again, “i’m just scared of getting hurt again, so soon. i feel like it would wreck me.”

“if you get hurt,” danny set his hand on her arm, “then, we’ll get through it, again. it’ll pass, it always does.“

she smiled up at her friend, only a little encouraged by his words. she still felt off. danny could tell by the distant look in her eyes. “but, you know, if you’re that worried- just end it. don’t continue. don’t put yourself in a situation where you think you could end up getting hurt.”

y/n didn’t know what to say. he was right, both sides of his argument were right. danny was the type of person to always be.

“you know what we should do?” y/n sat up, suddenly, the light bulb above her head aglow, “throw a party!”

danny laughed at her, leaning his head on his hand. “really? you are the last person i’d expect to want to throw a party.”

“i know, but- let’s do it! i wanna get fucked up and just chill out for a night.”

“you know,” danny pointed at her with a smug expression, “that’s the best idea you’ve had all year.”

[hellfirenacht]

Reader ==> Have Lunch With Hellfire Club

Isekai Chronicles Master List

START HERE <<<--- FIRST CHAPTER HERE

Fic Summery: Through no powers of your own, you end up in Hawkins 1985, in a tv show that you once saw on Netflix. Slow burn, Eddie Munson x Reader will be canon, choose your own adventure to a degree, monkey’s paw author.

Chapter Summery: You sneak into Hawkins High to have lunch with Hellfire Club.

Tags: Eddie and Reader, sfw, Reader is on her period, reader is also just a little horny and touch starved but nothing really happens with that.

Reader ==> Have Lunch With Hellfire Club

"Ow'' You hissed, laying your head down on the cool table. You had been doubled over for 10 seconds and most of the club looked at you with concern.

"Uh... You good, Lipton?" Jeff asked.

You winced, from both the cramp and what he'd called you. Why did no one at this school use first names? It was already hard enough responding to a false name to begin with, even after memorizing the information on your new kinda-fake ID card. Thanks, Murray.

"Just dying. It's fine, I'll live." You groaned, and forced yourself to sit up and look down the table at Eddie, passed Mike and Dustin. "Got any painkillers?" You asked.

"None that would help you." Eddie shrugged.

"Ah, lovely." You laid your head back down as another cramp shot through your uterus.

It was the last day of school before Hawkins High went on fall break. You had snuck over to the school to have lunch with Eddie and the rest of Hellfire Club. Currently, all of you were sitting outside, enjoying one of the last warm days before the cold set in. Out here, none of the teachers would see you all, and even if they did, they wouldn’t take note of one extra person who shouldn’t be on school grounds anyway. Besides, it’s not like it was your first time sneaking into the school, as it had become a habit over the past few weeks as you made yourself a part of Hellfire. 

By this time next week you’d be set up in the small trailer on the opposite end of the same trailer park that Eddie lived. Just a few more days and you could finally move out of Benny’s and you could stop dealing with stupid jocks and bugs and all the other bullshit that came with being a squatter.  

"What's wrong with you?" Asked Gareth.

"Alphabetically or chronologically?” your voice was deadpan and muffled from being pressed against the old picnic table. “And how much time do you have?" 

You wondered briefly what “chronologically” even meant with you. Would you start chronologically in a direct timeline starting in 1895? Or maybe you’d start at the year you were born and loop back around. 

"She can't be in too much pain if she's still a smartass," snorted Jeff.

"You're laughing. A party member is bleeding to death and you're laughing." The cramp subsided and you sat up again.

"Gross." Muttered Gareth.

"I bleed for days at a time and survive. Get on my level" you hissed.

"Level 5?" Jeff shot back. "You're still behind us, even with Henderson's help."

"Motherfucker I swear-"

"Hey now, no need to fight" Dustin piped up, looking between everyone with concern. "We're all stressed because of midterms, we don't need to take it out on each other."

You closed your mouth and backed down. You didn’t mind the occasional fight with Gareth, honestly you almost enjoyed it when he picked a fight with you because it meant you could blow off some steam. But Dustin was currently your only real friend, and you weren’t going to risk pissing him off. That kid was the only one to try and figure out how you ended up here anyway. 

Plus, he’d been running some one on one adventures with you between Hellfire meetings. With Eddie insisting that all new players start at level 1 no matter what the party was at, Dustin had convinced him to let him do some smaller adventures to help you try and catch up with everyone else. Sometimes Mike and Lucas would even join in. 

"Just ignore me." You sighed. "I'll live even if it kills me." You looked at the uneaten sandwich in front of you. The idea of eating it made you feel gross even if you were hungry. You grabbed it and tossed it down the table in front of Eddie who looked at you with a cocked eyebrow.

"Don't want it. You eat it." you mumbled, forehead against the table again. You were starting to feel like you should have just stayed at Benny’s until it was actually time for Hellfire.

"You gonna be okay to play tonight?" Eddie asked. "Or do you need us to find a sub for you?"

You shook your head. "I'll be there." You promised. "I'll just hit up Robin or someone for some aspirin before the game and I'll be fine. Might not be the most talkative-"

"That'd be a first." Muttered Jeff.

You flipped him off. "I'll be there. I can still roll dice as well at anyone here."

Eddie grinned. "Good, and I'm not gonna go easy on any of you tonight."

"Do you ever?" Mike laughed.

"Yeah, you've always been tough on us, but Cult of Vecna has been your most sadistic campaign yet." agreed Jeff.

"That's because this is my year." Eddie said. "I'm gonna graduate and I'm going out with a bang." Eddie drummed on the table with his hands, revved up now. The vibrations of his drumming echoed through your head and you sat up again.

He stood up, the sandwich left forgotten for the moment. You watched him, and the way he moved was like a full-on rainstorm. Eddie only ever seemed to have two modes, 'on' and 'off'.

He was very much on now.

There was a fire in his eyes that had burned you for the past month since you'd been invited to Hellfire. Your initial attraction to a fictional character turned coworker had burst into a full blown genuine crush. In the autumn air, his cheeks were flushed red from the cold and his natural excitement, and his hair was flying everywhere. Even with Eddie circling the table as he bragged about his campaign to the members your heart felt like it might leap out of your chest, distracting you from the other organs inside you that were ripping themselves apart.

A firm hand grasped you at the crook of your neck, and you tensed slightly at Eddie's touch, your mind blanked for a moment as he made physical contact with you.

Eddie was... Very handsy. He wasn't afraid to grapple, wrestle, grab, and generally put his hands on his fellow Hellfire members. Eddie had picked up Dustin and Mike by the shirt collars and pushed them more times than you had bothered counting. 

This however, was the first time he had laid a hand on you. You held your breath as you tried to ignore the shiver that slid down your spine and into your core. You didn’t dare let anyone see that this had any effect on you. 

‘Not the time, self.’ you scolded yourself.

Eddie gave you a shake, which changed that warmth in your core to a vague sense of nausea. 

“Please don’t shake me right now.” you groaned. Your guts were not interested in physical movement right now. Your legs were already nearly constantly sore from biking everywhere. 

To Eddie’s credit, he did stop. His hand was still firm against you though, and you could feel the cold metal of one of his rings against your skin.

“See this one,” he gave you one more shake, the asshole. “This one is so metal that even though she probably should retreat tonight she’s still willing to show up for us.”

The compliment made your heart swell and the air didn’t feel so brisk as your own cheeks warmed up. You tilted your head back to look at him with surprise; Eddie didn’t hand out compliments too lightly with the club. He was always so straight forward, firm. He wouldn’t say anything unless he meant it. 

“I’ve always shown up when it mattered.” you said quietly, flashbacking (flash forwarding?) just a split second to a group of friends from the future. Not that it mattered, I guess. What was that??

The hand slid off of you, and a sense of emptiness echoed through your chest and at the loss of the warmth and pressure. You shoved down the lump in your throat by taking a long gulp of water. You had been here for nearly 2 months, and that had been the first bit of physical contact you had with anyone outside of a small scrap with Murrey or a handshake with someone, or your literal run in with Steve Harrington. 

One small touch, and you felt like you were falling apart. You were really starting to be sick of this feeling. 

Eddie sat back down and pulled out the sandwich you had offered him and you watched it disappear in 4 bites. 

“Jesus Eddie, did you even taste that?” asked Mike, and to be fair it was a valid question. 

“Didn’t need to, it was edible. Thanks, Lipton” 

“Why do you all keep calling me that?” you asked, looking around the table. 

“What, ‘Lipton’?” Mike asked. “I don’t know, it’s just something we do here.”

“Could... you please not call me that? Just call me by my name please. Or ‘Dipshit’. Or ‘Hey You’ or ‘That one girl in Hellfire’. Anything else.”

“You’re barely in Hellfire.” Gareth grumbled, flicking a chip crumb off the table and onto the dirt below. Gareth had been nice enough the first night you showed up for Hellfire, but then the more you hung around the less he seemed to like you. You’d deal with that later.

Eddie looked over at you, his wide brown eyes meeting yours and he said your name. 

The back of your neck prickled at the sound of your name on his lips. You wanted him to say it again. 

‘Not the fucking time, self’ You scolded yourself again. You had so many bigger issues than a guy with pretty brown eyes and a chipped front tooth that made your stomach explode in butterflies. 

Oh, who the fuck were you kidding? You did not. In fact, he was absolutely the main problem that you were going to have to deal with in a few months. If he wasn’t planning on being a hero, maybe you could actually sleep at night. 

You gave him a small nod, and wondered if you looked as tired as you felt. 

“Sorry, it's an old habit.” Dustin said. “We’ll stick with your first name”

“Thank you.” you said, relaxing. You looked at the time, not long until lunch was over. Then two more hours, then school was over. Hellfire started at four, a half hour after school ended. That gave you a few hours to just wander around aimlessly until school ended. 

You zoned out for the rest of lunch, poking at the food you had brought until it was all passed along to Eddie. He never did bring enough food for himself anyway. 

When the bell rang you took your time gathering your stuff up as most of the club started back towards the school building. 

As you were about to turn and head in the opposite direction towards the woods. something grabbed you by the shoulder and moved you behind a tree before you realized what was happening. Eddie stood in front of you, hands on your upper arms, head tilted with that look of intense concern on his face. You found yourself stiff under that gaze, thrown off by how he had suddenly grabbed you. 

“Eddie....?”

“I meant what I said, earlier.” he said. “There’s no shame in retreating. If you feel like shit, you don’t have to come.”

“I want to.” you said. “I- I really do, I promise. I don’t want to let you down.” It took you three seconds to realize that you had said ‘you’ and not ‘everyone’ and heat burned your cheeks. 

Eddie put a hand on your forehead. “You’re warm and you look like.. You look fucking tired.” 

“....Thank you, Eddie. Just what every woman wants to hear from a man.” Your voice was deadpan. “I’ll be fine. I just need to take an aspirin and maybe take a small nap before Hellfire.”

His brown eyes bore into yours and you wondered how easily he could see through you. “Come on, you can take a nap in my van.” Eddie didn’t bother giving you a chance to answer before dragging you around the school, towards the parking lot.   

It took a moment for his words to register in your brain as you followed him. "....Huh?"

"I have some spare blankets and a pillow back there. I crash in the back all the time. Might not be the... Cleanest or the most comfortable but it's safe. Not like anyone's interested in messing with the freaks van" He said, his hand sliding down your arm to grab your hand. 

Eddie was holding your hand. Shit shit shit shit shit- 

Your brain caught up to you. "Ah, yeah that would be really nice actually." you said. "I probably really need the short rest of I'm gonna survive you tonight."

You wondered if Eddie realized that he had given your hand a squeeze. "Get those spell slots back, you're gonna need them." 

"Thank you, I really do appreciate it.” And you did, passing out in his van was definitely safer than passing out in the woods somewhere until Hellfire started.

Eddie looked over at you and smiled. "Everyone in Hellfire has crashed in that van at least once. It's basically a right of passage to help break in the newbies."

You couldn't stop your mouth from running. "You break in all the newbies in the back of your van?" You looked up at him with a teasing half grin. "Damn, this really is a cult." ‘Not. The. Fucking. Time. Get your head out of the gutter please.’ 

Eddie snorted and shook his head. "You'd be surprised what's happened in the back of that van."

"Sex and drugs and rock 'n' roll?" you offered. ‘What did I just tell myself??’

"Two out of three. I'll let you guess which ones." 

The bell rang and you jumped. "Shit, you’re gonna be late to class.” You looked over at Eddie, worried about his getting in trouble. 

“It’s just gym, no one will care if I’m late” he said. “I don’t like being the first in the locker room anyway. Are you sure you're okay?" Eddie asked, looking you over. "I'm not trying to be a dick but you really look rough."

"I feel rough. I'll be fine." You promised. "I just need a nap. You said it yourself, I'm metal. Can't exactly let everyone down when you called me that."

"You're either very brave or very stupid." Eddie said, opening the back door to the van, giving a sweeping gesture to motion you inside. 

You tossed your backpack in first before crawling in. To your surprise Eddie hopped in with you and closed the door. 

"Just need to move some things around. As a Hellfire member and your DM, you know that what happens in this van stays here." Eddie's eyes narrowed slightly and you nodded dumbly, wondering if he was aware of how some of the things he was saying sounded. "Good."

He pulled up a section of the floor where a spare tire should be, and pulled out a small box. You leaned against the back of the front seat, closing your eyes. Whatever Eddie was doing, it wasn't your business, not when he was being so nice. You really thought you had completely blown it a few weeks ago when you first went over to his home, but by some power he kept letting you hang around. Being coworkers probably helped. 

With your eyes closed, you breathed in deeply and took in the scent of the van. There was a lingering smell of weed and cigarettes, mixed with the natural smell of him and a hint of some sort of air cleaner to mask the smells. It could have been much worse, you found that your tolerance for the scent of narcotics had gone up a lot since being here.  

Your body was already starting to relax, knowing that rest was coming soon. You had been running around Hawkins all week between shifts and doing your own investigation work of the town, looking for anything that could help you come Spring Break. 

Something soft hit your head and you opened your eyes. Eddie had tossed you two blankets and a pillow. "They were washed recently." He said. 

"Eddie you- can you come wake me up before Hellfire?" You asked, feeling the texture of one of the blankets. It was worn and thin but nice against your hands. "I don't have a watch or an alarm." Your watch had died two days ago and you wouldn’t be able to get a new one until Bev paid you again.

"Don't worry, I'll need to come back here anyway. I'm keeping my notes for today in the front seat. Don't peek. I'll know if you do, and there will be consequences." Eddie's tone was serious as he tossed his Hellfire notes in the front seat. He put his whole being into this campaign, and you wouldn't dare betray that trust that was starting to form between the two of you. 

"Wouldn't dream of it, I doubt I could read your chicken scratch handwriting anyway." you said and he grabbed the pillow from you and smacked it on your head again with a laugh.

"Stan tried once. Once. He learned his lesson after that. He didn't even read the right notes, he ended up with an attempt at my English homework." 

Stan. Another name from his past that never was in the show. You had already accepted that Eddie was real, even if it had left you spiraling for a good two days. But there were still small moments to just how real he was. Hellfire Club existed before now. Eddie had friends before this version of Hellfire. Each new piece of himself that he offered you was tucked away in your mind, a reminder of what you were really working for. You wished you could offer the same. 

It was comfortable in the back of the van with him like this. You could count on one hand the amount of times you had been alone together for longer than five minutes, not counting your shifts together at The Hideout . There was a part of you that was still nervous about being with him, this person who shouldn't exist with you. 

Eddie looked at his watch. "Business calls. Get some rest, I'll be back for you before Hellfire." 

"I'll try not to die in your van."

The van shifted as he scooted over to the door, opening it and letting in the late September air for a moment. 

“Night" He said before closing the door behind him, leaving you alone. 

Reader => Take A Nap In Eddie’s Van

You grabbed the blankets and started adjusting them. Thankfully there were no mysterious stains on any of them, but the pillow was very much a 'boy pillow' which was flat and old and offered zero support. But it was his and it smelled like him and it was... More clean than expected. Not like you had any room to complain. 

You laid back and took a few slow breaths. You didn't expect to actually get any sleep but some time to just lay down and relax was enough for now. You were sure that Eddie would tire you out again tonight-

‘With the campaign you fucking pervert.’ You scolded yourself, trying to ignore the warmth in her stomach again from just his hand on your arm and shoulder. Hellfire was always very high energy, and Eddie's stamina was unwavering. As a Dungeon Master- no fuck, not that kind of dungeon master-!

What was wrong with you today? Being on your period and the stress must be catching up to you. You were starting to think you needed to get laid. Or maybe convince Steve or Robin to loan your their Family Video discounts to rent from the back room- 

No. You were NOT going to hit up a jock and his lesbian best friend for porn. You didn’t even have a VHS player. 

You were so fucking touch starved. 

You shut your eyes tight and tried to clear your mind of any perverted thoughts. It was pleasant in his van in a weird way. Cool, and parked in the shade, and just dark enough to let your mind shutdown slowly. Maybe you’d get a contact high, but you didn't know enough about drugs to know and at this point you were too afraid to ask. 

You tossed and turned for a bit, trying to get comfortable enough to just relax. The van's floor was hard, and it took a half hour to find a position (with doubling your backpack with the pillow) where your brain could shut down fully. 

It felt like you had just closed your eyes when a knock came from outside. You jumped and sat up quickly, fumbling in the sheets to cover up before remembering that you were still fully clothed. 

"Wake up, Sunshine, Hellfire starts in 15 minutes!" The van door opened and Eddie smiled at you. "Hand me my bag"

You reached for his bag and pushed it over, shaking your head to reoriented yourself. Right, Eddie's van. Naptime. 

"Last chance to back out." Eddie said. "Say the word and I'll walk away and drive you home after Hellfire."

"I'm okay!" You said, not knowing if you were going to crash at Benny’s or in a basement. "I actually feel a lot better after laying down for a bit. Just let me use the bathroom and I'll be all good for tonight, I promise." 

Eddie reached out to take your wrist and help you out of the van, and you stumbled slightly before readjusting. Eddie grabbed your arms to make sure you didn’t eat shit on the pavement.

"I'm good, you just threw me off. I'm fine, Eddie." 

Eddie answered by letting you go and closing the van door. "You know the house rules. Anyone late gets a penalty at my discretion."

"Yes, Dad" you rolled your eyes and the two of you made your way back to the school. Once inside you stepped away and slipped into the bathroom to freshen up and readjust your clothing and pee. After splashing some cold water on your face and cleaning up you did feel a lot better. 

"You actually showed up" Gareth said as you made her way down the stairs. 

"Get on my level Gareth." you said, taking your seat at the table. 

"Feel any better?" Asked Dustin. 

"Yeah, much better." You pulled out your folder and set your mini fig on the table. "Eddie let me crash in his van for a bit."

The overhead light went out and with a click a single lamp that hung above the table flickered on. Eddie was now seated in his 'throne', his side of the table now set up. 

"If we're done chatting now gentleman, lady" he nodded at you. "Last we left the party...”

Notes: I haven't forgotten about this series! I feel like I am constantly writing and yet have noting to show for it lol

So what would you like to see Reader do next?

Tumblr User ==> Leave A Suggestion

Dividers by @strangergraphics

[i-eat-worlds]

Stab O’clock

Phoenix gets stabbed, whump ensues.

Thanks to @snaillamp and @whumpy-daydreams for helping with the medical stuff in this! Aaron and Phoenix belong to @pigeonwhumps

cw: medical whump, dubcon medical care, past medical abuse, graphic depiction of medical procedures (tube thoracostomy), needles, blood, implied current abuse, fear of punishment, wound fingering, immortal whumpee, wishing for death, past death, comfort believe it or not

“Firebird!”

Phoenix rolled away from the voice calling their name, trying to drag themselves deeper into the alleyway. If they were discovered like this, it wouldn’t end well. You couldn’t fight if you could barely breathe.

“Firebird!”

A black, blue, and orange uniformed hero rounded the corner, and Phoenix shrunk back further. Absurdly, they wished they could bleed out and die quicker, so they could heal. Being found like this was sure to end badly. Injured heroes were useless heroes, and useless heroes got punished. The hero called out for them again, moving towards the alley way.

They held their breath, hoping the hero would walk by and ignore them.

They didn’t.

Instead, the hero turned into the alley, dropping to their knees in front of them. He mumbled something into his coms before he looked at them. “Hey Firebird, I’m Exhale, I’m a medic.” He gestured to the patch on his left arm. “I’m here to help you, yeah?”

Medics? Who had sent medics out for them? That was a gross waste of resources. Phoenix shook their head. “ ‘m immortal.”

Talking was hard. Every word stole precious, precious air that was getting harder to take in by the second.

Exhale nodded. “Good to know, thanks for telling me.” He quickly located the wound on their chest and started quickly cutting the fabric away.

“No, ‘m immortal.” Phoenix whispered, pushing his hands away. “You don’ need to do that.”

“Not how that works. Let me help.” Exhale pressed a clear, sticky bandage over their chest. It was clear he wasn’t planning on arguing.

His hands wrapped around them, checking their backside for another wound. “ ‘m sorry,” they wheezed.

“It’s alright.” His hands pulled away. “I need you to lay down. I’ll help, yeah?” Phoenix let him gently set them down on the ground. This moved them out of the shadows, casting streetlight over their upper body.

Their chest still felt heavy and tight, even though the weird bandages he’d put on helped a little bit. It did nothing for the pain, every movement of their rib cage extending the burning ache. In the distance, they could hear sirens. Stupidly, Phoenix wondered if the sirens were for them.

That was silly, though. Why would they need an ambulance? It wasn’t like they were going to die.

“I’m gonna need to decompress your chest,” he said. He was holding something in his gloved hand, but Phoenix couldn’t really see what it was. “It’ll probably hurt, but it’ll also make it easier to breathe.”

They whimpered as Exhale pressed his fingers next to their sternum, only a few inches away from the wound, then slid them across their chest. In the corner of their vision, they saw light glint of of a very long needle.

They didn’t have time to really process what it was until after it was driven through their chest.

Shocked, they gasped, breathing hitching and head popping off the ground. Exhale didn’t seem so surprised, pressing his hand onto their shoulder to keep them from moving too much. “You’re alright, you’re going great.”

It certainly didn’t feel like that.

“The ambulance is on its way, they’re a few minutes out.” For some reason, he was still gently squeezing their shoulder. It wasn’t that they minded, it was just odd.

It was easy to tell that the ambulance was coming, sirens screaming through the night. Phoenix closed their eyes to try and get away from bright flashing lights as it parked. It was so easy to keep them like that.

“Phoenix, can you open your eyes for me?” He shook their shoulder a bit, but when they didn’t respond, he switched to grinding his knuckles into their sternum.

Their eyes popped open, and they raised the arm on their uninjured side to try and push his hand away. “I need you to try and stay awake, for me, yeah?”

The ambulance ride passed in a blur. So much was going on. While Exhale was starting an IV, another paramedic was attaching them to a monitor. An oxygen mask was looped over their face and then they were covered by a blanket. They felt a strange coolth running up their arm, and they realized that they’d been given painkillers.

It was too much, really. All the care and attention would've been better spent on someone who wouldn’t live anyway. The thought of having to pay for this made them nauseous. Hopefully Kai will believe that they tried to say no, because Abbie wouldn’t care.

Phoenix heard the arrival alarm go off as they were rolled into HAL’s medbay. Aaron, along with a cache of other nurses met them by the door. They clumped around the stretcher, and Exhale started rattling off a long list of words and numbers that they didn’t understand at Aaron.

“ ‘m sorry,” they mumbled to them, but he was too busy talking to hear them. “I promise ‘m sorry, sir.”

Nobody responded. Of course they didn’t. They were being annoying, and they needed to shut up.

“Three, two, one, lift!” Somebody called, and they were hoisted off the stretcher and set back down on the table. The movement caused pain to flare in their chest, and they groaned loudly. The assault of hands returned as they were attached to the medbay’s monitor, nurses swarming around them.

“You with me, Phoenix?” Aaron was standing at their head. His face looked weird upside down.

They nodded, feeling the tears starting to build. “Yes, sir.”

“Good, good.” Aaron’s eyes flickered up, watching as their blood pressure cycled. “We’re gonna take an x-ray, okay. Just lie still for us.”

Someone pulled an x-ray machine over the bed, and Aaron backed away. There was an awkward moment of quiet as the machine hummed and wirred, and then everyone briey stared at the radiograph that Phoenix could neither see nor interpret. Aaron rattled o a list of stuff he needed done, and the room descended back into organized chaos.

“I’m gonna need to place a chest tube. You’ve got blood in your chest, so we're going to put a tube in and drain it out so you can breathe better,” he explained as he rubbed cleaning gel on his hands.

Phoenix swallowed nervously, giving up on holding back tears. They could feel the pain of the scalpel slicing through their chest, of cold metal pushing their ribs apart, of hands digging around inside them as they died and resurrected and died again.

“You’re lucky someone is willing to help you at all. You know you don’t deserve it.”

A nurse pulled the blanket all the way to their belly button, revealing the myriad scars that covered their body. Burns, several GSWs, an old wound from a spear, and the long, thick, almost keloid scar from the thoracotomy.

“If you stopped fucking moving I wouldn’t need to paralyze you. It’s not like you need to breathe.”

Their attention was drawn by Aaron’s voice. “Phoenix, I need you to keep breathing for me. In and out, in and out.” He looped a mask around his face, then plunged his arms into the sleeves of a waiting gown. While he spoke, the nurse wiped the skin around their chest and up their arm with a stinky orange solution.

“Please, ‘m sorry, sir,” they gasped. The monitors screeched as their heart rate spiked. “I promise, sir, ‘m sorry for getting hurt.”

Aaron’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’m not mad at you for getting hurt, Phoenix. I’ll never be.” Cold flared in their arms, but they were too scared to recognize it as pain medication. Latex snapped as he donned a pair of sterile gloves.

The squelching of viscera echoed in their brain.

“If you don’t stop screaming I’m going to cut it. I can literally see your aorta. Don’t test me.”

He started to unfold a drape on their chest, looking up at a nurse on the other side of the table. “Can you get Joseph in here? They need more support than I can provide while I’m doing this.”

Phoenix whimpered, tears rolling down freely down their cheeks. They’d known that Aaron’s kindness wouldn’t last forever, that it was too good to be true, but it still hurt. And Joseph as well? Was he going to hold them down while Aaron cut them open? Or would they just slit their throat and be done with it?

“I told you I wasn’t fucking around. You could’ve prevented this if you would’ve just kept still.”

“I‘m sorry, please, I promise, I’m sorry, sir.” They tried again, desperately. “I didn’t mean to get hurt. I know I don’t deserve it, sir. I know. I promise, sir, I know.”

They gasped for air, hand clawing at the tide of the table.

“Can someone gag them please? I don’t want to hear them breathing like that. It’s annoying.”

Joseph appeared in the entryway to the room, quickly crossing on the side away from Aaron. He was wearing his full INSUPA uniform, med patches and all, same second in command stripes as the person in the alley had. Was Joseph Exhale?

It didn’t really matter now. He was going to hurt them anyway.

“Can someone hold them down? They move too much when they resurrect.”

“Hey Phoenix, can you look at me?” He was smiling at them, but he still looked terrifying.

They tore their eyes from the needle in Aaron’s hand to look at him. “That’s good. Eyes on me, eyes on me.”

“Don’t look at me like that. You know it's your own fault.”

Joseph kept talking to them, voice low and calm. “Is it okay if I hold your hand?” They nodded, knowing their answer didn’t really matter anyway.

“We’re gonna take care of you. I know it’s scary.” His hands were calloused and hard, and he gently started to massage the top of their hand with his thumb.

Why hadn’t he killed them yet? What was he waiting for?

“Stop crying. It’s distracting me.”

Aaron touched their chest. Fear exploded in their gut, along with boiling waves of nausea. Even though they knew they’d come back, they didn’t want to die.

“Aaron’s starting the local now.” Joseph said, squeezing their hand a little.

“I don’t care that it hurts. Just keep still.”

The needle punctured their skin, and they did their best to not wiggle away. There was an acidic burn in their chest as the medication took hold.

“I know it burns, but it’s nearly over,” Aaron said, grabbing another syringe. “That’s the first round of local anesthetic in, you’re doing great.”

Joseph smiled at them again, and Phoenix wondered what the point of the medication was. Weren’t anesthetics supposed to make things hurt less? That couldn’t be right.

They were supposed to be dying.

“Pain meds? That would be wasted on you. I don’t think it’d even work.”

Aaron swamped out the syringe for a scalpel, and their eyes went wide with fear. This was how he was going to kill them then.

“Eyes on me, remember?” Joseph’s voice was commanding, and their eyes snapped back to his face.

“I’m sorry sir,” they said, voice filled with fear.

“I didn’t know you were too stupid to follow even simple instructions. Stop. Squirming.”

They prepared themselves for the pain of being sliced open, waiting for the agony to spread along their ribs.

“Tell me if it starts to hurt,” Aaron said. There was a strange pressure on the side of their chest, and the metallic smell of blood filled the air.

It was strange, but it didn’t hurt. It was supposed to hurt.

“It’ll go faster if you don’t cause problems.”

There was an uncomfortable tugging and pulling sensation, and then Aaron’s finger slid inside their chest. They suppressed the urge to cringe away.

“They need more local.” Joseph said, his tone switching from soft to business when he talked to Aaron.

“ ‘m okay,” they insisted. They didn’t need any more superfluous medication wasted on them. It already wasn’t as bad as they’d thought it’d be.

“I wouldn’t have had to do this if you’d just behaved.”

Joseph kept holding their hand as Aaron reached for another syringe. “You’re doing great, keep it up,” he assured them.

The burning sensation returned, and then they were being spread open again. A rush of blood splattered onto the floor, splashing on Aaron’s gown.

“What, are you afraid of a little blood?

He stuck his finger into their chest again, rotating it around inside them. “Any pain, Phoenix?”

“No, sir.” They were crying more now than before.

He snatched the tube off the tray. “Give them another point-two of Eropental.”

“If you complain that it hurts one more time, I’m going to just leave the rest of the shrapnel inside.”

Joseph let go of their hand to administer the medication, and for some reason, Phoenix didn’t like it.

Meanwhile, Aaron was deep in concentration. He carefully threaded the hard, plastic tube into their chest, then quickly connected them up to the strange looking drainage machine and opened up the clamp. “Tube’s in.”

It was quickly filled with blood. “Now all we gotta suture it in place. You’re nearly done, Phoenix.

“It’s kinda useless to stitch them, since they'll heal up anyway.”

This, at least, they were familiar with. Aaron had stitched them up way more times than was justied for any one person.

Joseph was back to holding their hand now. If they’d made it this far, the punishment would probably come later. “You did great, Phoenix.”

They didn’t believe him, but they weren’t going to argue.

“Just catch up after you heal. We don’t have the time to carry you back. You have to pull your own weight.”

Aaron dosed the wound liberally with another round of anesthetic before he covered it with several layers of gauze and tape.

The blood was practically flowing out of them, out of the tube and into the pump. “We’re gonna get you scanned next,” he said as he tore off his blood flecked gown and gloves. “Hopefully your healing is doing a good job of patching it up.”

Joseph squeezed their shoulder. “We gotcha.”

For a brief moment, Phoenix let themselves entertain the thought that they weren’t going to be killed at all. If Aaron was expecting them to heal, then maybe they’d be okay. But the anxiety settled in there chest again.

Now they had to do was survive what Abbie would dole out to them.

Aaron and Joseph had let them off easy.

Abbie wouldn’t.

Taglist: @/pigeonwhumps @rainydaywhump

[whumpshaped]

the pet name generator inspired me. here's mocha

tw implied noncon, kidnapping, hybrid whumpee, death, rude interviewer, self-harm mention (didn't go through with it, just thoughts)

"So, Mocha... As I understand you haven't talked about this before? On tape, I mean. In a setting like this."

"Never."

"Well, I'm honoured that you've chosen to accept my invitation anyway. May I ask what made you change your mind?"

The recording goes quiet. There are no sounds apart from the gentle scratches and pops, then a louder creak as one of them likely shifts in their chair.

"No."

"Okay. So we should just jump right in. Can you talk a bit about... the unique features you possess? How have they affected your life? Are you the only one of your kind that you know of?"

"I am. That's why I was so interesting to that farmer. You don't see a guy with sheep ears every day, I guess. Nor hooves. All this stuff... it fucked up my life. Ruined it."

"How so?"

Pause. There's a sharp inhale, then a slow, measured exhale.

"I was isolated. Hidden by my family. Until one day I escaped, and immediately got kidnapped. I'd say that's a pretty fucked up life."

"If we could keep the cursing to a minimum, please."

"Don't fucking tell me how to–" Mocha cuts themself off, and there's another audible sigh. "I will keep the cursing to a minimum."

"Thank you. So tell me about this farmer."

"He had a lot of livestock. He didn't treat any of those animals well. I... accidentally trespassed on his land. I didn't mean to. It was dark, I didn't see the sign, there was no fence... I heard sheep, and I wanted to meet them. Humans were always weird about the whole thing... but sheep are friendly. Too friendly. I was too friendly back then as well."

"I imagine he wasn't very happy to see a stranger on his property."

"Oh, he was." One of the chairs creaks audibly, and now it's almost certain that it's Mocha who's squirming. "He was very happy. Not at first... but then he saw how I am, and..."

"You mean your sheep characteristics."

"Yes, I mean my fucking sheep characteristics– sorry. I cursed again."

"Keep going."

"He didn't act indifferent to it, which I think is what I would've wanted. I wanted someone, anyone to just ignore them. Those stupid ears, I wanted to take a pair of scissors and cut them off–"

"Stay on topic, please."

"He was delighted. He asked where I was from, why I was out there alone at night, wandering around. I told him the truth, because sheep are friendly. Sheep are dumb."

"And he took you in."

"He did. He took me in and didn't let me go until the day he died. Thankfully that day came sooner than expected."

"How has he treated you?"

Mocha doesn't answer right away. Whether it's because they're thinking, or because it's too painful, it's difficult to tell.

"He was kind, at first. I think. It was hard to tell, as someone who has never... really experienced that. I didn't know why he was so enthusiastic about my freakish hybrid body. He made it pretty obvious soon enough, though."

"He was some sort of fetishist, correct?"

"He was a sick and twisted man who got off on violating others. I couldn't care less what you call it. He told me sheep are dumb, sheep need someone to tell them what to do, where to go, how to behave. I believed him. He had lots of sheep, and I was half a sheep, I thought he knew best. He was a fucking–"

"Language."

"But he was! He was a gross fucking man!"

"Let's move on. How did his treatment of you escalate? How quickly? How severe did it get?"

"He... I don't even know. One day it was a slap, because sheep are dumb and sheep need guidance. The other it was just... normal. And then the cane. The rod. The cattle prod. I don't know the timeline, it... it blurs together. It got very bad."

"Did you try to stop him?"

"No. Sheep are dumb. Sheep follow."

"You internalised that message very well."

"Yes. Yes, I have."

"I've heard he branded you."

"Yes. And he had one of those tags in my ear as well. Just to really drive it home that I was a dumb animal."

"And you believed it."

"I did! I did, he was convincing, I didn't– didn't know any better!" There's a pause, and Mocha takes a deep breath. "Now I know I'm smart. I know I'm capable. I'm not a sheep, not fully, and even if I was, I'd be deserving of humane treatment."

"You have a mask on today. Why is that?"

"I don't like the scars."

"It doesn't hide the burn mark on–"

"No. It doesn't. I can't really cover that."

"Okay. Let's get back to the farmer, then. You said he held you there against your will until the day he died."

"I got lucky. He had a heart attack, and all I had to do was... stand there. I watched him collapse and eventually die. I didn't know what it was back then, but now I know it was his heart."

"How did it make you feel?"

"Surreal. It was surreal. It was... it wasn't happiness, it was relief. Peace. I don't think I've felt truly happy for a long time, but I know I felt tranquil."

"And how has life been treating you since the escape?"

"Same as always, I guess. I'm still isolated. I... I don't talk to many people."

"Is that why you finally changed your mind on telling your story?"

Mocha doesn't answer for a long time. When they do, their voice sounds just a little less strained.

"I guess so. And I think... I think it was a good idea."

~

picrew

general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night

[bmbochangetales]

BMBO FM I need your help I'm trying my daily run and it's a struggle to get motivated today. I would love it if you could play Tag you're it. That song always makes me run faster.

I’m no longer accepting BMBO FM requests. I may bring this interactive back at a later date but for now this and several others that I got earlier will be my limit until my move is complete.

**************

“Let’s get some motivation to all those runners out there, try not to get lapped, but if you do, “Tag You’re it”, enjoy”

It took you hours to get out for your run today. You had a rave coming up and really needed to go though. After hours of pushing it off, you headed to your favorite running path. A few other runner were there running the long looped path. You saw a male and female couple, two college girls, a solo guy and a solo girl.

Running on the path, you were going to use this song as a sprint. You really wanted to do this workout as fast as you could.

You but your headphones in and luckily the song was already queued up. You set off.

You quickly caught up to the couple softly talking to each other as they jogged slowly together as you slipped passed them with ease.

“Honey we really need to clean up the house when we get home”

“Or we could…you know”

“Shhhh people will hear you”

You rounded a corner and into a wooded section you were catching the two girls just casually waking. Probably only college aged or freshly graduated. You quickly over took them.

“I can’t believe he wouldn’t call me back. It’s like he just wanted sex, no just to cum, he didn’t care about me.”

“Guys are just gross and selfish. Maybe you should try girls like me.”

You picked up your pace trying to get this lap in. You saw the single man stopping at some equipment in the park to get some training moves in. He was buff and you could loudly hear his podcast playing out. Explaining how to pick up girls and reminding him that men were superior.

You saw the other girl running in the distance but she turned the corner and you seemed to have lost her.

One lap done, one to go for this sprint.

You came across the mistress and her cute little pet.

“Walk on your leash like a good girl. Mistress will reward you later.” She gave her per’s head a pat and the one on her hands and knees yipped and yapped excitedly.

She rounded the corner again and there was the happy couple.

“I just want to have my cock pumping you full, I want to see you getting bigger and rounder.I’ll let everyone know you take my cock so well”

“God please fill me up, I’ll be a good breed slut. Fuck me full of your babies I want to show everyone how good your cock is”

“Of course you do. You want to grow my children and keep your tits large and filled with milk.”

You came upon the equipment again. The himbo was there listening to his podcast. He was laying on a bench meant for sit ups, stroking his cock according to the commanding podcast reminding him that he was just a silly boy, women were superior.

You were nearing the end of the course and the song. You had lapped all the runners twice. Except you missed one…the lone girl. You were almost there when she flew up your left side. You could have sworn you heard her say “tag you’re it” eerily like the announcer. Maybe she even winked at you.

You felt tingling. You just keep going forward as the shorts and top shrink down. Your body begins to get harder to keep in proper form as your breasts becoming the size of melons. Their bouncing is hypnotic as your try to finish. You ass swells as your pussy begins to drip down.

You finished your sprint but you couldn’t ignore the feeling any more. You fell to the grass and the tiny top let your much improved tits fall out. You began vigorously rubbing them, bouncing them around. Your mind not caring anyone walking by, in fact you hoped they would enjoy the show.

One of your hands slipped down into what was supposed to be a pair of running shorts but your new curves were too voluptuous that they were just lewd with your body spilling out. You were busy rubbing yourself to climax so all passersby could enjoy the show. You couldn’t stop the first time or the second. You kept coming over and over again. Until you passed out until some time later.

You sat up and looked around. Why were you at the park in your high heels and sluttiest bikini? You couldn’t think. Oh well, it probably wasn’t important. But since you were here, you might as well find some fun friends to play with. You wanted to share you’re body.

[solaceinabandonment]

Solace in Abandonment

Hungry.

Ashley had hoped she would reach a point where she could ignore it. The pain had dulled but it was now an ever present ache, not as sharp but it would not fuck off.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck this," she grumbled. If she didn't distract herself she was going to explode. Her head was fuzzy and full of bees. It felt gross, so she decided a shower was in order. Well, maybe a bath. less likely to pass out and crack her skull.

"Ooh, that's a conversation starter," she thought. Even a slow torturous death couldn't stop her from bugging her beloved Andy. A mischievous grin crossed her face as she headed for their room.

"Hey Andrew, I wanna take a shower. You wanna come with and make sure I don't fall and die?"

Andrew rolled over and looked his sister in the face, trying to gauge what her intention was. There was always something more to what she said and he'd learned to read between the lines over the past twenty years. That evil smirk told him she was trying to fuck with him. Maybe he'd fuck back this time.

"Ashley, you're either trying to bait me into eating your corpse or seeing you naked under some weird hunger induced notion of romance." He looked her in the eye, waiting for a reaction

Ashley's eyes widened and she pointed at Andrew teasingly, "You think being around me naked would be romantic?"

Andrew threw his head back into the bed and grabbed his face in both hands. Advanced malnutrition meant he saw stars in doing so. Once they passed he spat, "that's not what I meant you freak!"

Ashley's grin grew toothy and wide as she moved closer to the bed, "So does that mean you want me to fall and die so you can eat me instead?" She crawled on the bed, struggling not to pass out on top of Andrew. "That's so fucked up and I am absolutely down for that, if there is even a glimmer of love in your heart left for your precious Leyley then you will let me be inside you Andy!"

There was a pause, then Andrew started laughing. He draped one arm across his face, while the other pounded the bed. The force threw Ashley off balance and she flopped over on top of him. She began laughing too, and the both of them cackled like maniacs. After their laughing fit passed Ashley took the opportunity to make herself comfortable and snuggle up close to her brother.

"I meant what I said, you know." Ashley tilted her head to look Andrew in the eye as she spoke. "No sense in letting perfectly good meat go to waste."

Snaking his arm under Ashley, Andrew rolled over on his side, flipping his sister between himself and the wall. She yelped in surprise. He reached up and moved her hair from her face, and looked her in the eyes. "Absolutely not. You're all I've got left in this goddamn purgatory. I know I'm being selfish but you are staying with me for as long as possible."

The way he looked at her, the way he touched her, the words he spoke set her on fire. Her heart pounded and her mind could only think of one word: mine. "Mine, mine, mine. He was all mine and nobody else's," she thought.

Eyes wide and serious, she responded, "It goes both ways you know. I'm really selfish and greedy and possessive. If I'm going to be yours you can't have anybody else. Not that bitch from before the start of all this, not some fucking whore you meet after this, not even Mom and Dad. They all abandoned us to die here, THEY DON'T CARE AND THEY DON'T MATTER!" Tears welled up in her eyes, and she buried herself in Andrew's chest.

Emotional outbursts always left her feeling raw and exposed. She hated it so much. Maybe that's why she got so angry. The most painful part of this one is that it was true. All those people who should have been looking out for them, the people that they loved and trusted had just moved right the fuck on. Ashley choked out, "goddamn fucking bastards should rot in hell, just like the one they left us in."

Andrew wrapped his arms around Ashley, hugging her tight. Eventually her tears stopped and she pulled back to look at him again. Everything she wanted, everything she needed was right in front of her. She ran her hands through his hair. Her fingers slipped close to his scalp, firmly twisting hair in her hands. His arms went to her waist and pulled her closer.

Close enough to feel her breath on his face, Andrew spoke, "They left us alone, so we might as well be each others. I'll be yours if you'll be mine, Leyley." Ashley's heart skipped, hearing him call her that for the first time in forever. She closed her eyes and pulled Andy's lips to her own.

[flowervolcano]

I know I have seemed anti Antonia Dreykov but it’s not like that at all. I just get mad that she wasn’t a well written and fleshed out character and I hope for some new things for her.

Originally I thought ooh he could be Marvel’s first trans character, have Tony transition to male that way “look he’s a male” and I’d really be down for this idea

But if not, idc we could do a female Taskmaster, just let her have spunk, energy, charisma, let her get her own personality anything that isn’t all drama filled. She deserved better than that.

So I want some things for her, which is; figuring herself out, after years of being silenced I want her to be a mouthy little troll like her comic counterpart, she uses the “my father silenced me my whole life now I’m making it your problem” excuse whenever someone on Thunderbolts gets annoyed with her excessive banter/talking. She has so much she missed out on, she could be like a little socially awkward at first but then really just kicks it off. Maybe she picks up skateboarding randomly just because she saw someone do it. I want her to reclaim some humanity and personality. All things she was dismissed from having. Let her thrive and grow into a real person. I’m afraid they will just keep blandly writing her with no soul and she’s only “I was a weapon” like Bucky, Yelena and Ghost weren’t. (Not all of them are as moody but you get the point)

Then I also really want them to utilize her powers more, explain that the chip in her head is actually just because her father is a control freak and was limiting her to a program. That the powers don’t have to be computer functional. Idk taking away a super hero skill like that sucks imo and that was one of my major complaints when it first came out

BRING BACK THE CAPE PLEASE!!!

The main reason I’m upset with the “reveal” was mainly because Taskmaster’s identity never mattered to him, he was a just a dude who loves his skull mask and refuses to take it off so when she took off the mask in the movie it felt jarring (not because she was a woman btw) but because it felt so not like Taskmaster to do so. I didn’t care who was going to play Taskmaster as long as the actor kept the mask on 90% of the time. It’s kinda not fair to such a great actress though, which added to my distraught feeling. It felt like so many good things and potential was wasted. Because no I feel like her identity is more important than her skull mask (rip) but that’s a simplistic argument

Instead it would have been devious if she wasn’t actually Dreykov’s daughter but staging that to get under Black Widow’s skin (I say this because the timeline makes no sense in 2008 Antonia was around the ages of 7-10 which I would be around the same age as her, and she does NOT pass for 16-20 years old, let me remind y’all that BW was set in the year 2016, so if she was let’s say born in 2000 (like me) by the time it’s 2016 she would only be 16. So that is still making the least amount of sense in direction of writing. If honestly would have been better if instead of trying to connect her in that way, sure go with “victim” but not if the timeline makes no sense. Sorry I’m rambling a little it’s just I take my timelines very seriously and can’t stand when the math ain’t adding up.) ignoring the mess up in the time line I just didn’t like the needing to be related to someone to hurt Black Widow, and having her only exist like a pawn was upsetting for me. And the character as a whole.

Instead she could have just been anyone who was being abused. Maybe Dreykov found her and her unique abilities and abused that to his will and forced her to work for him. She could have been in the explosion but not related to him even, but he uses that event against her. “I saved you and made you what you are, you are in debt to me” or even worse the old “I took you in when you had no one, I’m the only one who would care about you now” obviously he’s a gross manipulative old man who had no regard for women. But there was so much to work with to make him even more evil and disgusting. He never cared who anyone was even his own daughter yikes— while I like the idea to a point it didn’t quite work in the long run and execution. But we can work around that! Let Antonia shit talk him constantly after he’s dead. It would be funny. Let Antonia be lazy too. I think she deserves to kick back and annoy people a little. I just want to see her healing and I’m trying to morph her into the little bastard Tony Masters any way I can.

She can really be an interestingly complex character, she could only be in it for money like Tony usually is, and that works, some people are just like that. Maybe she feels like she has nothing else in life (because she doesn’t) so money is the only thing that makes her happy. Besides this absolutely works for the name change to Toni Masters, who would want to keep the Dreykov surname??

All in all I had much to write about but started ranting and losing my process. What I really think is most important is letting her be a character, a unique one. Just because she’s gone through traumatic events doesn’t mean she has to be a brooding, serious, depressed character, let her be goofy and whatever because she went through a lot and this is how she copes!

Just let her own it and be a fresh take, something free from everyone. She doesn’t need her dad, sympathy, pity, Black Widow, nobody she is her own hero. And she just wants to do some shots at a bar because why not.

Oh and finally, let her date Ghost/Ava. I think they’d have a wonderful chemistry together.

[lt-natrace]

Bruised Knuckles || Natasha "Phoenix" Trace

Hi everyone, I've been a little MIA on here writing wise because my classes started again and I have been struggling with a balance of classes, work, and writing but here I am! I wrote this for @callsign-phoenix and her 500 follower celebration. I chose the prompt "Don't tell me you're fine, I can see the blood"

Description: Phoenix doesn't take shit from men that offend her or nurse!reader girlfriend

Content: includes violence, blood, sexist/gross comments from men, fluff at the end, phoenix is a badass

Word Count: 1.3k

Thank you to @blue-aconite for looking this over, it was very appreciated <3

The first time Phoenix saw you, she was in for a sprained ankle from a team bonding game day. In fact, as soon as you entered the room the pain in her ankle had magically disappeared and all she could focus on was trying to make you laugh. Bob saw right through her actions and mumbled out a “really Phoenix?” as soon as you left the room. From that moment on, she did whatever she could to see you and after two months of fake concussions and cold symptoms, she got the nerve to ask you out for a drink. 

That first date was almost 4 months ago. Since then you had gone on several more and eventually became an official couple. Due to the relationship being so fresh, the two of you decided to keep it under wraps, only letting a few close friends know of what was going on. Which is how Phoenix ended up at the Hard Deck without you. She insisted on you coming out with them but being in a sweaty bar with all the pilots you’d taken care of was the last place you wanted to be. 

Almost immediately after she got her first drink Hangman challenged Phoenix to a game of pool. The two of them were known for going up against each other in anything they could, especially a game of pool where the loser buys a round. While standing back to observe Hangman’s plan of attack she heard a few men letting out belly laughs across the pool table before one of them spoke above the rest, “I’m just saying that seeing a girl like that makes me wish they ditched the scrubs and went back to those little white dresses that nurses used to wear.”

Phoenix could’ve swore she felt her blood heat up as she continued to listen, hands tightening around the pool cue. Bob noticed her whitening knuckles and looked to where her eyes were set in a stare. Upon listening further, Bob immediately understood the cause of her growing rage. He shot her a warning look which was promptly ignored as Phoenix straightened her posture and took a step forward.  

“Phoenix-” Bob started in a low voice to avoid drawing attention as he stuck his hand in front of her.

He was cut off by Phoenix’s pool cue being handed to him as she walked by, “It’ll be real quick, Bob.”

The other members of the team quieted and shared confused glances before looking towards Bob for an explanation. He ignored their looks, focused on Phoenix’s actions as she made her way towards the men.

“Couldn’t help but overhear you talking about that new nurse, the one that should ditch the practical scrubs?” She questioned, cocking her head in an attempt to play dumb.

The taller of the men sat up straighter and glanced at the others before looking back to Phoenix and speaking up, “I mean yeah, what does it matter? We’re at a navy bar and if it offends you, maybe this job isn’t right for a little girl like you.”

Phoenix let out a scoff before trying to swallow her anger as she took a step forward, “Just didn’t like some of the things I heard, pretty disrespectful to talk about someone in the same field as you like that.”

“C’mon honey-“ The man tried but was cut off by Phoenix’s fist hitting his nose, blood pouring out almost immediately

Bob jumped forward as soon as it happened to help defend his pilot’s actions, mumbling out curses as he set the pool cue against the wall. Phoenix held up her hand to stop him as she grabbed her jacket from the chair and left cash on the counter before Bob could lecture her or anyone could ask questions.

—————-

The sound of your door unlocking caused you to jump up and check the time on the stove, wondering if you’d fallen asleep and missed Phoenix’s call asking to be picked up. To your surprise it was only 10pm, she had never been home this early after a night out but you couldn’t complain. 

“Hey baby,” she greeted you, bringing you in for a kiss before you could ask any questions, “I brought home some pizza in case you were hungry.”

Her actions continued to confuse you, “Thank you, but we ate dinner like 3 hours ago, right before you left. Everything alright?” You asked, struggling to finish your sentences as she continued to push your hair out of your face and pepper kisses on your cheeks.

“Everything is fine, even better now that I’m back here with you.” She mumbled against your jaw before placing kisses down your neck, smirking as you let out a quiet moan. 

As you realized what she was trying to do, you grabbed her hands from your face, not missing the slight wince in her face as the palm of your hands brushed her knuckles. On instinct you flipped her hands over to look at the tops of them, noting the dried blood and blue bruises forming. 

She ripped her hands back and your eyes met hers, “I can explain but I promise I’m fine.”

“Don’t tell me you’re fine, I can see the blood!” You exclaimed, grabbing her hands back to take a closer look. “Jesus, Nat.”

Before she could protest anymore, you pulled her into your bathroom and helped her onto the counter and out of her jacket. You shuffled around under the sink until you found everything you needed, a giggle leaving Phoenix’s mouth as she saw how much you had pulled out, “You can put away the tape and gauze, the blood’s not mine.”

When you looked up at her, she was staring at her knuckles and trying to rub the blood off of her skin in order to avoid eye contact with you. As you saw her smile fall and turn to a look of shame you stood up to be at eye level, grabbing her face in the process. 

“What the hell did you get into?” You asked, forcing her to keep eye contact. She stayed silent for a moment and you let her gaze fall back to her bruised knuckles.

“He was talking about you,” she mumbled out after a moment, your confused look urging her to keep talking, “the guy at the bar, some new recruit, was saying disrespectful things about you and I just couldn’t stand to sit there and listen anymore.”

Your heart swelled as you listened to her story. You were the kind of person to brush off gross comments about your profession, your body, or whatever else men decided they had something to say about you. To have someone that respected you enough to say something in your defense was such a new concept and it made you fall even harder for the woman in front of you that was trying her best not to stain the counter with blood. 

“Oh baby…” you whispered, barely loud enough to be heard above the fan and movie playing in the next room.

Phoenix looked up with apologetic eyes, “I didn’t mean to make a scene-”

You cut her off with a harsh kiss, cupping her face to keep her close. After a moment, she reached her hands up to yours to get your attention to pull away, “Are you mad that I might have spoiled this secret thing we’ve had going on?”

“I could never be mad at you for this,” you replied, holding her face close to yours, “but no more fighting, you’re too good at what you do for your skills to be washed down the drain.”

“Deal, but only if you put your skills to use and fix up my hands so I can thank my pretty girl” She said, a smirk appearing on her face.

[poppy-metal]

"The first time you hear Izuku moan your name, its with you hiding on the other side of his closet door, your hand clapped over your mouth in shock.”

A/N: im placing this before the sexual side of their relationship begins. A prelude of sorts, if you will.

Cw: voyeurism, smut, dekus secretly dirty mouth.

All things considered izuku’s room was...not as gross as you expected a staple college aged guys dorm room to be. It was cluttered but not disgusting, posters of comics and figurines and manga and some clothes strewn about, everything kind of frenzied and haphazard. It was so incredibly deku, a secret smile pulled at your lips, even though your reasons for being here were less than innocent

He’s wearing fucking pink. Because of course he is, of course izuku is humble and comfortable in his masculinity enough to pull off a bright pink t-shirt. It hugs his chest too, and you have to wonder if literally any of his clothes fit him and the tits he decided to grow in college. His image is so utterly imposing, his smile so bright, and laugh so airy, it sends butterflies flipping through your stomach at just the sight of him and that makes you want to vomit. Your lips curl in a sneer and you’re walking towards him and the group of friends he’s talking to as if on reflex. 

Stupid, lovely deku. You knock your shoulder into his as you pass, hard enough that his books clatter and fall to the floor, scattering. And then those green eyes are on you, giving you his attention and your body feels alive, your blood cells buzzing under your skin even as he frowns. The dimples on his freckled face fall as he takes you in. Yes, you think, look at me, see me, want me. 

Out loud you say. “Watch where you’re going, stupid deku” and you’re looking at him like he’s the dirt under your shoe. He’s not. He’s the center of your universe. Your world tilts around his axis. “Pink isn’t your fucking color by the way”. it is. 

Izuku huffs. He’s past the point where he used to turn as red as a tomato and duck his head whenever you stood in front of him, but he’s still deku at the end of the day. An easy target. “If looking at me bothers you so much you could just ignore me.” He crouches down to pick up his things. His words make you itch, if you could ignore him, you wouldn’t fucking be here. Its because he exists too much, that you want to push him down so much. 

You step your manicured foot onto his notebook right as he’s about to grab it. He tugs at it, you dont budge, and he looks up at you, exasperated. “Can i have my notebook, please?” 

Why is he so fucking pretty? God, you want to throw up. You dig your heel in further, covering the flutter you feel in your chest with a practiced sneer. “I like the way you say please, deku.” You lean down a little, “Say ‘your highness’ and i’ll move” 

It’s a thrill, seeing the way his jaw sets, his brow furrows, his eyes go annoyed. Sweet, sweet, friendly izuku. You’re the only one he looks at like this, like he wants to throttle you. But he won’t. You see his adams apple bob, his cheeks dust pink, even as he glares. “No” 

You pause. It’s not the first time he’s gotten snippy with you, but the conviction behind it is new. You feel something in your stomach give a jump, your blood thrumming in your ears. You jerk your foot towards you, sliding his notebook out from his hands and standing completely on top of it with both your feet now. Your sticky lips, glossy and plump, spread into a mocking grin, “No? Do i need to slam you into some lockers and take you lunch money?” You feel a thousand feet tall, towering above him still kneeling, you on the high ground, looking down at him below you, where he can’t reach you. Can’t ever see the truth. “C’mon pansy, you’re already on your knees anyway” 

But he isn’t anymore. He jerks to a stand, and now he’s taller than you, but you puff your chest out, not letting that affect you. It always affects you. Not that he knows or ever notices. Your eyes are widening when he steps forward so you’re practically nose to nose and chest to chest. “I don’t have time for you” he snaps, irritated. And then he’s stepping away as suddenly as he stepped up, the rest of his things gathered in his arms, he shakes his head at you, a tendril of that mossy mousey hair falling into his eyes. “I gotta get to class” 

And then he’s gone, brushing by you, disengaging. You stand there, your breath stuck in your chest, not moving. ‘I dont have time for you’ over and over again rings through your head like a mantra. You step off his notebook robotically and kick it across the floor. It bangs against a wall and you feel your fists clench, nail beds digging into your palms harshly. ‘I dont have time for you’ 

You turn on your heel, away from the direction of your class, fury blinding you. Anger in place of humiliation, vindication in place of being humbled. You don’t know what crawled up his ass and made him think he was above you all the sudden, but you weren’t having it, not the fuck at all. 

And that’s how you found yourself snooping through izukus dorm, with the intention of finding some kind of dirt, or something to hold over his stupid head. He didn’t have time for you? How dare he act like he was better than you, like he had things more important to do than to indulge you. You were still so mad you wanted to throw a tantrum, kick and scream and claw his eyes out. Straddle his stupid broad waist and shake him until all he saw was you, you, you. 

You really hated him. Hated that because of him you were basically a bully because any attention from him was attention you thrived and lived under. Maybe if you weren’t so prideful, so disgusted by the weakness of your own gooey emotions for him, you would have tried to be the center of his attention in a nicer way, but as it was you were in too deep. This was the sick game you played, and losing wasn’t an option. 

You hated how much that made you similar to bakugou in a way. You didn’t like that guy, and even weirdly so, you wanted to gouge his fucking eyes out for the way he treated and talked to izuku. Was it jealousy or possesivness that drove you to want to be the only one who could rile izuku? You wondered, sometimes, if bakugou felt the same way about you. 

It was the loss of control, for you. Better yet, it was the way you liked the loss of that control. You had always prided yourself on being strong willed and a perfectionist. But whenever your eyes so much as grazed izukus, all your emotions went rattling around your stomach in sick twisted ways, giving you goosebumps, making you...nervous. It was a crush that had turned into an obsession, wasn’t it? And you wanted to make izuku suffer not only for invoking those messy feelings, but for not seeming to return them as well. If he couldn’t love you or want you romantically or sexually, you’d force yourself onto his radar and into his head until thinking about anyone else was impossible. Until you squirmed under his skin as much as he squirmed under yours. 

Acting like you didnt exist was unacceptable. Obviously you’d slacked off on your taunts and actions, if he could just brush past you so easily, not taking your bait. You needed to even the playing field again, and by even you meant you needed to be towering above him again. 

Towering over him so you dont have the time to think about how much you want to be under him, your mind whispers at you as you pick through his room, trying to find anything incripting. Someone like izuku would probably have something utterly embarrassing like a diary or some weird porn magazines, shameless, helpless guy that he was. 

You huff as you open his drawer next to his bedside, nearly slamming it back shut in shock at what you see there. 

You’re not stupid. You’re a healthy, young woman with an active sexual imagination and access to the world wide web, to porn. 

Izuku has a fleshlight in his drawer. Izuku has a sexytoy. Izuku. And its green. 

Izuku has a sex toy that he probably uses. That he probably sticks his cock into and moves- 

An absurd laugh barks out of you, shocked and helpless. Because while in your head you knew izuku had to be some kind pervert, what other explanation was there for the way he blushed and darted his gaze around like a ping pong ball whenever you leaned forward and get caught a glimpse under your blouse, this is...unexpected. Imagining izuku in explicit scenarios, doing lewd things, it was something you didn’t allow your mind to wonder to often over. You didn’t like the way you got all squirmy and meek whenever you thought too long about izuku without clothes. 

You feel kind of squirmy now, hot and uncomfortable as you shift around and try to gather your wits back about you. Revenge, that’s what you’re here for. 

With a shaky exhale you turn away from his dresser, your thoughts flitting around your head like annoying gnats. What, who, does he think about when he…? What does he look like? What does his...c- You shake your head, slap your cheeks, trying to center yourself from the images floating around, flustering you and distracting you. 

You’re in the middle of lifting the covers on his bed to peek under it, see if there’s anything there, when you hear the handle on his door jiggle. You freeze, every muscle in your body locked frozen like a deer in headlights as the knob twists, and then catches. Right. You’d picked the lock with one of your hair clips and then made sure to lock it again behind you just in case something like this happened. And by the, “Ugh” on the other side of the door, yep that’s definitely izuku. You’re shoved out of your shocked state, and bolting for his closet door as you hear the jingle of his keys twist in the lock, trying your best to close the door as quietly as possible behind you, it swishing shut barely a second before the door to his dorm opens and you hear him step in. 

Class must have let out early or something, you think huffily, gently rearranging yourself into a comfortable position on a pile of his clothes as he shuffles around his room. You hear the thumb of him dropping his books, the shuffle of his feet, the clutter of him taking off his shoes and the squeak of his mattress as he plops down on it. 

You tuck your knees to your chest and roll your eyes, picking at your leggings as you wonder how long you’ll have to hide before he goes to the bathroom or something so you can leave. It’s fucking stuffy in his closet already, the air hot. Your hand touches the soft fabric beneath you, realizing you’re sitting on one of his hoodies. Its too dark to see which one it is, but you imagine it as your favorite red one. Maybe you’d steal it as compensation for him making you sit and wait in his dumb closet while he probably stared at the ceiling with no thoughts in his dumb brain.

You hear him sigh, loud and dramatic, and then a muffled scream/groan into his pillow. Your lips twitch, he’s such a fucking drama queen. 

Your little smile drops off your face when you hear the sound of his drawer opening.  

Oh god. Oh no. 

Your face feels like there are embers burning under it as you hear the unmistakable sound of clothes being shucked, a zipper and and then flop, and then….a slick wet sound and a sigh of relief. 

Your eyes feel like they are bugging out of your head. Izuku is really about to fuck his fleshlight with you hiding in his closet with him none the wiser. You feel suddenly embarrassed and hot all over, hiding your face in your knees as you hear him let out a moan. A loud one. 

You’re on fire, every part of you. You don’t think you can take this, don’t think you can sit through this and listen to this, think you should just burst out of his closet and use your bravado to somehow flip the situation and make him feel humiliated for getting off in the privacy of his own room, like he’s in the wrong even though you had violated so many boundaries for even being here right now. 

You could do it too, you know. You’re good at twisting things, at powering through the complicated mess of flustered feelings izuku makes you feel and making it his fault, making him back down and cower. You could do it...you’re uncurling your legs and pushing your hands under you in the middle of getting up to do so when- 

“Fuck. ___” Your name. You freeze, for an unholy, goldy second you think you’ve been caught, that he has acquired x-ray vision and has spotted you but no. His voice isn’t surprised or upset its...breathless, airy. He moaned it. 

The first time you hear Izuku moan your name, its with you hiding on the other side of his closet door, your hand clapped over your mouth in shock.

Heat immediately shoots between your legs, your core throbbing unbidden in reflex to the sound, helpless to stop it, to have any other reaction. Your ass plops right back down. You turn slightly towards the door, pressing your side against it, your ear smooshed against the cool wood as you listen, as if drawn under a spell. 

“You’re such…” You hear izuku pant, his voice deeper and more rough then you’ve ever heard it before. “A fucking brat” 

Wet between your legs, seeping through your panties at his words, seemingly ripped out of him. God, he sounds pissed, wrecked. He cursed. You’ve never heard izuku curse before, never, even when you’d pushed him too far. Something really was different about today. 

The slick sounds are more frequent now, steady and...and sounding like real sex you’d heard from porn before. Wet, sloppy, and slapping. Your knees knock together as you lean forward even more. There’s an invisible string pulling, tugging you forward, you want to see…

“Fucking slut” He grunts, and there’s a heavy slap, your breath catching in your fucking throat as you realize that...that must be the clap of his balls hitting the back of his fleshlight everytime he thrusts into it. “Always running your fucking mouth, looking down at me, so mean, you’re so fucking mean to me…uh..” 

The sounds of sex fill the room and you can’t take it anymore, you’re burning, burning, burning, fuck the consequnces. You hesitantly and slowly turn the handle of the closet door, letting it slide open just a crack, enough for you to peek through, to get a glimpse.

His lean muscular back is the first thing you see, he’s facing directly away from his closet, thank god but oh god, that means you see..so much. The flex of his shoulder blades under his tan skin, the smattering of freckles over his shoulder, the long slender slope of his spine as it curves down his broad back, the dimbles at the bottom of his spine, flexing as he fucks his toy. His ass, because of course izuku would have a perfect round bubble butt. There are freckles there too. 

Your eyes skate down, hungry to his large and heavy balls, low hanging and full, currently smacked right up against the base of the little pocket pussy he’s practically straddling on his bed. 

It hits you again than, that deku is imagining that toy is you, he’s imagining fucking you in this position on his bed right now, imagining its your cunt hes pounding into, and your face he’s spitting those filthy words at. 

Your hand is really moving without your permission when it slips under the band of your leggings into your panties, fingers immediately dipping between the slick folds of your pussy, silky and wet. 

“-Wet” Izuku grunts, as you dip a finger just barely inside. “Fuck, i knew you’d be so fucking soft and good inside. Such a bratty girl would have a sweet cunt attached to her, huh?” 

Fuck, where and when did izuku start speaking like this? His soft voice curling around such crude words is making you gush all over your fingers. You wish you could see the kind of face he was making when he said them. 

“Yeah, you like taking my cock don’t you, baby?” He croons and if you close your eyes you can almost imagine he’s speaking directly into your ear, behind you. His thrusts get heavier, rougher, he lifts his leg up on the bed and you see a flash of the little green toy being fucked on his cock, big and angry looking. He’s being so brutal, hammering the thing down on his dick as he hips rut to meet every downward tug. “Milk it. Milk my fucking cock you whore. Wanna- fuck, wanna hear you say my name when you cum, want you to know who’s pouding that little pussy. The loser you fucking hate, yeah? Gonna cum for me?”

Yes, you whimper in your head in answer to him, your fingers curling deep, deep, inside, fucking yourself on them in earnest. He’s so big and you only caught a glimpse, but it was enough. Enough to know he’d fucking cleave you apart if he tried to fit that monster between his legs inside your tight little pussy. But you want it, god you fucking want it. You wanna feel him splitting you open, making you cream around him, making you beg for it. Making you bleed. 

“One of these day” he says, his voice breathless but steady, even as it cracks. You know he’s close. “I’m gonna fucking snap. Im going to make you look me in the fucking eye and apologize for making me want you, and then im going to split that pussy open- fuck, im coming, fuck, fuck, fuck. Do you understand, b-bitch? Gonna fucking make you mine, yeah, take it, take your senpais cock you dirty fucking girl, ah!” 

He slumps forward, hips humping into the toy and balls spasming as he pumps it full of his cum, shuddering deeply with little aborted whimpers. “Good girl, good girl” he pants, trailing off, giving one last little jerk of his hips before stilling. 

You bite your lip so hard you draw blood to stop yourself from whimpering out loud. You pull your sticky fingers out of your cunt and shuffle back into the dark of the closet, curling in on yourself as izuku lays there, panting heavily for a few moments before moving. 

You stay stock still as you hear him get up and shuffle around, his footsteps padding into the bathroom where you hear the door click softly shut. You spring up to your feet and don’t care if you make noise as you dart out of his room and into the hallway, sprinting like a bat out of hell as you make you way to the girls dorms.

You’ll think about how to reevaluate and recoup later. Right now you just really need to get to your bed so you can rut pathetically onto your own fingers and imagine izukus fat dick breaking you open. Never in a million years did you think he had those kinds of feelings for you, and you know it changes the whole game, is a whole other level of playing field where you now know he wants you on a physical level. 

You feel powerless and lie you’re slipping again, don’t know how you’re going to point your finger at him and laugh when you know for every insult you throw his way, is another way hes fucking his toy at night, adding it as another thing to get you back for. If he ever snaps. 

If. you want it to be a when, so bad, not an if. 

You’ll make it a when. You’ll push him off the metaphorical cliff he’s teetering on to make it so. 

. 

[anonymityisfunwriter]

The Twin Flame - Chapter 16: "Anti-Hero"

"I'll stare directly at the sun, but never in the mirror. It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero..."

"Here," Sharon offers, tossing some clothes on her bed for you. She juts her thumb to the shelf lined with shoes. "Take your pick. And try to keep them on this time."

"Ha," you chuckle, picking up the clothes off the bed. "You're so funny, Sharon. I missed that about you."

She raises her eyebrows, offering a tight smile. Without another word, you pad around to the other side of the partition and start to change. She waits a moment, taking a large gulp of air, "So.. you've just been with Sam since you've been back? You Blipped, right?"

"Sure did," you humorlessly snicker. You don't really know what it is, you considered Sharon a friend, not a particularly close friend, but a friend nonetheless. In spite of that, something in the very recesses of your mind was telling you to keep your answers vague and nondescript. You're about to dismiss that gut feeling when you faintly hear Nick Fury's reminder to always trust that gut feeling, it's never wrong. You quickly respond, "And yeah, mostly at Sam's sister's house."

"Oh," she hums. 

"But you've been in Madripoor? That sounds like fun!"

"Something like that."

Your eyebrows furrow at Sharon's strange response, but you shake it off as you finish pulling on the borrowed jacket. As you pull it on, you notice the fresh blood staining the white bandage on your arm. You quickly look away, ignoring the pain radiating throughout your entire upper arm.

After pulling on a pair of her shoes, you both make your way back to the living room where Sam, Bucky, and Zemo await. 

"Much better," Sharon quips at a shirtless Sam as you both enter the room to see Sam choosing his clothes for Sharon's party. 

"Gross," you mumble under your breath, taking a seat on the couch but leaving a sizeable amount of space between you and Bucky.

"What's going on, Sharon?" Sam asks, tugging on a dark turtleneck. "You don't ever wanna come back home?"

"They'll lock me up if I set foot back in the States. Madripoor doesn't allow extradition," she tells Sam, pouring herself a very generous drink.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't call, but after the Blip and the chaos, I just..." Sam trails off.

"I mean, you know the whole hero thing is a joke, right?" Sharon bluntly interjects. "I mean the way you gave up that shield, deep down, you must know it's all hypocrisy."

"He knows," Zemo agrees, hiding his signature smirk behind his own drink. "And not so deep down."

"By the way, how is the new Cap?" Sharon asks.

Sharon's question is a reminder of yet another point for contention between you and Sam: he gave up the shield. You wanted to respect his choice, but the whole thing felt wrong. Steve was someone you cared about deeply, someone you would always care about, and watching someone tote around his legacy was shocking to say the least. 

"Don't get me started," Bucky quietly grumbles.

"Please," Sharon scoffs. "You buy into all that stars and stripes bullshit. Before you were Zemo's pet psychopath, you were Mr. America, Cap's best friend."

"Wow, she's kind of awful now," Bucky tells you, briefly noting that you've remained oddly silent this entire night. 

He hadn't really been able to talk to you one on one yet, but he sort of figured that you were going to be more than a little upset by the stunt Zemo pulled at the bar. It couldn't have been any easier than him pretending to be the Winter Soldier. 

He was just lucky that he got a front row seat to Sam chewing Zemo out for ambushing you like that.

Bucky saw it, how painful it was for you. You didn't think he saw it, but he did. The wince as the words left Zemo's mouth: asset. The way your eyes sunk to the floor. The way you curled into yourself like Zemo left you completely vulnerable in the middle of the bar with one word. 

More than anything, Bucky wanted to kill Zemo in that moment. And he would've if he it wouldn't have put you all in even more danger.

Even more danger. And since Sam had spat those words at him in Berlin, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. It was driving him crazy. None of it was adding up. And it felt even worse because he knew it was his fault that he felt like he didn't know anything about you anymore. 

"This Sunshine serum, it's dangerous. People shouldn't have that kind of power," Sam cautions.

Sharon nods at you. "Except for her?" 

"She didn't ask for it," Sam defends. 

"So because she didn't ask for it, she's 'worthy'," Sharon vaguely mocks. 

"Can we stop talking about me like I'm not right here?" you rhetorically ask the room. Then, you turn to Sharon to defend yourself, "And I don't think anyone should have it. But more than that, I don't want anyone to get hurt."

"Now, she," Sharon starts, pointing at you. "She still buys into the superhero bullshit."

"I'm not naive, Sharon," you retort, gently grazing your throbbing arm in an attempt to assuage the shooting pain radiating up and down your arm. "But this isn't right. And the Power Broker, they're trying to create this serum for a reason. And I don't think it's to make superheroes."

Sharon shrugs, raising her drink to take a drink, "All I'm saying is maybe you guys should steer clear of all this stuff, for your own safety."

"We know it's a risk," Sam tells her. "But we're not going to leave until we find the one who cracked the code."

"We got a name: Wilfred Nagel," Bucky adds.

"Nagel works for the Power Broker," Sharon informs the four of you. 

"We need your help, Sharon. I can get your name cleared," Sam offers.

She tilts her glass at you, raising her eyebrow. "Like you got her name cleared?"

You freeze, her words washing over you like a bucket of cold water. You weren't even sure how she knew that, but in this moment it doesn't even matter. And maybe you're just going crazy, but you have to press your lips together to keep a chuckle from bubbling out of your mouth.

You almost laugh. You actually almost laugh. Not because anything is remotely funny, but because it seems like all your emotional wounds from your entire life on the outside are out and open for discussion and dissection, a complete open season on all your dirty laundry for one night only. Each poke and prod adding insult to injury. Salt in a wound that won't stop getting torn open. 

It's like you're stuck in a constant loop of getting older but never wiser. And now it's clear why you shouldn't be left to your own devices, it's because you were the problem. And everyone already knew it. 

"That's a different situation and you know it," Sam curtly retorts. "And this isn't about her, it's about you, and getting your name cleared."

"So you're haggling with my life?" Sharon counters.

"Not like that."

"I don't buy that. You pretending like you can clear my name."

"Okay, maybe it is hypocrisy. Maybe you're right. What happened to you, but I'm willing to try if you are." Sam offers once again. Sam's voice drops, speaking only to Sharon, "They cleared the bionic staring machine, and he's killed almost everyone he's ever met."

"I heard that," Bucky grunts, still carefully watching you in his peripheral.

"I don't trust charity," Sharon vaguely declines. 

"Alright, a deal then. You help us out, and I'll get your name cleared," Sam proposes, extending his hand to Sharon. 

She hesitates a moment before taking his hand. She drops his hand with a firm shake, taking another long drink before standing off the couch. "Well, I sell to some pretty connected people. Lay low, blend in, enjoy the party. Try to stay out of trouble. I'll see what I can find."

"Done."

"Blend in," she repeats, eyeing you specifically.

Zemo playfully shrugs, his drink still in hand. "Trouble."

"Why'd she say it like that? Do I not blend in?" you ask, looking to Bucky and Sam for a response. You scoff, "I blend in just fine." 

"Anyway..." Bucky lilts, avoiding the question. "We should probably head down."

You nod, standing up off the couch. "Agreed."

"Hey," Sam's voice stops you before you can start for the elevators. His voice drops, looking to you with an expression filled with concern. "You good?"

You're not even sure which part of the night he's talking about. You're not sure which part of the night was more rattling. And though you're deeply unsettled by the events that occurred tonight and by old emotional wounds that won't stop being prodded, you don't want to tell Sam that.

Because here he is, once again, cleaning up a mess that he wouldn't even be involved in if you hadn't walked into his life. Another reminder that you're the problem, you're the monster on the hill looming over the unsuspecting town. You shrug your shoulders, "I'm fine."

Sam roughly sighs in defeat, clearly unhappy with your response. Through a clenched jaw, he coldly replies, "Great."

"Good."

"Hey," Bucky interrupts, watching you watch Sam walk away, another cold, curt interaction that left him even more confused at what was going on - and why no one was speaking about it.

He knew in actuality he'd only known you a few months, but still he felt incredible close to you, like you understood him.

And maybe that was irrational of him, but he couldn't talk himself out of that feeling. It didn't matter how many times he tried, and he tried so very hard. No matter how he tried to deny it, to cut ties and run, you'd gotten to him, worked your way underneath his skin, just like Steve said you would.

He thought back to some of those conversations then and none of them were equating to the way you and Sam were getting along now.

You stop in your tracks again. You turn around again, and for the quickest of moments he sees an exhausted, somberly disheartened expression on your face like the fighting with Sam was taking more of a toll on you than you wanted to admit. And he watches the way you come to life again, the way you turn back on.

You shake your head, pulling a tight smile on your face. It's jarring, the way you so quickly and so brightly smile like there's not a problem in the world.

Right now, that's not his question. Right now, he can't stop thinking about Sharon's cryptic comment about your pardon. He just can't stand the thought of some imminent danger looming over you while he stood to the side doing nothing. "What was Sharon talking about? About your name not being cleared?"

You keep the same tight-lipped smile on your face when you respond, "It's nothing."

"It didn't seem like nothing."

"Bucky-" you start, his name just a sigh leaving your mouth.

"And will you quit calling me that!" he abruptly exclaims.

"What?" you question, your eyes wide at the sudden outburst.

"You have never called me that. Ever!"

He can't even bring himself to care that he probably sounds like a crazy person. He doesn't even want to discern why he cares about a name this much, but he does. He really does.

Before, you were the only person that he knew that called him by his first name. And now you called him the same name everyone else did. It was eating at him for reasons he'd never admit.

"By your name?" you scoff, though you know exactly what he's talking about.

"Yes!" he frustratedly groans, his fists clenching mid-air as a meager attempt at not pulling out his own hair. "You're- you're Sunshine! And now- now, you're keeping secrets, fighting with Sam, calling me Bucky, and I want to know why!"

An incredulous chuckle leaves your mouth as your expression changes to pure disbelief. "Why?"

"Yes, I want to know why!"

You take a long, deep breath. And though your words are gentle and soft, they cut Bucky deep, "Things change, Bucky. I think you of all people should know that." 

And with those words, you walk away.

It's him, he decides in that moment, he's the problem.

Because though he'd just faced bullets raining down on him, a bounty over his head, and was now stuck in a city where most people wanted him dead, he finds himself stunned for the first time all night. He finds that there's not enough bravery in him to go after you as he watches the elevator doors close behind you.

He just looks back to a night when things seemed so much simpler:

-

"You know, you're not that bad when you're not trying to kill me," you tease, your voice just above a whisper as both Sam and Steve snore from across the Quinjet. 

He rolls his eyes with a huff of amusement. "Thanks."

"And you know what else? I've decided on your nickname," you gleefully tell him. 

"Do I even want to know?"

"I'm going to call you James."

His eyebrows furrow as the smile he so desperately tried to keep at bay finally surfaces. "You know, I hate to burst your bubble, but that's my real name."

"But everyone calls you Bucky, so it'll be my nickname for you." You gently nudge his shoulder with yours. Bucky is more than a little shocked at the physical contact. It was even more surprising than when you plopped yourself down in the seat beside him when there were plenty of other open seat. You sat by him, of your own volition. You were joking with him, laughing with him, teasing him. And you'd given him nickname, even if it was his real name. "It'll be our own little secret."

And he's not really sure why, but the idea of having his own personal secret with you left a strange, warm fluttering sensation in the pit of his stomach. The feeling wasn't familiar to him. And there was a big part of him that was terrified of it. An even bigger part that relished in it.

The rational side of him knew that a few conversations and laughs didn't mean anything. Steve had told him, you were here because Sam was here.

You were just being nice.

And he was seeing things that weren't there. 

-

By the time he regains enough composure to move from where he remained frozen, you were already long gone.

A blank, emotionless expression remains on his face as he drags himself down to the party. He can't even pretend he doesn't feel numb, like his heart didn't just sink to his stomach. 

"You've got to be-" Sam hisses, stopping as Bucky takes the space next to him in the club.

"What?" Bucky asks, his voice as numb as he felt. 

Sam juts his chin over to where you stand with Zemo. "Look."

Bucky swears in that moment that he's going to break his teeth from clenching his jaw so tightly. "What the f-"

Bucky decides that it doesn't matter how pissed you are with the two of them, he's not going to just stand there and watch as Zemo does what Zemo does best. He takes one singular, purposeful step forward when Sam clutches his shoulder. "I wouldn't do that. Blending in, remember?"

"You're joking, right?"

"Let's just be thankful we can keep an eye out from here," Sam grits.

You look back at Sam and Bucky standing there with matching anger-filled, tense expressions on their faces.

"Hm..." Zemo hums, twirling you once, his tempo as he sways you around not even matching the fast beat of dance music thumping throughout the club. "I'm honored you choose me to keep accompany you this fine evening."

"Well, someone's gotta keep an eye on you," you quip, focusing your attention back on Zemo. "You're the one that wanted to dance."

"It is a party after all."

"Or you want to antagonize Sam and Bucky some more?" you guess, allowing him to twirl you around again. 

"Two birds, one stone."

"Tread lightly, Zemo," you warn, planting your hands on his shoulders to stop him from further taunting Sam and Bucky.

"May I ask you a question?"

"Does it matter if I tell you no?"

"Your relationship to James?" he probes with a knowing smirk. 

You shake your head, giving him a tight, unconvincing smile. "Friends."

"Hm..." he hums, a pensive look on his face that you know never leads to anything good.

"What?" you sigh.

"Nothing, I just assumed you would be more honest than your counterparts. I suppose we all have our faults."

"That was the truth," you retort, the two of you swaying back and forth around a small corner of the dance floor. "I already told you before, you shouldn't believe everything you hear."

"What about what I see with my own two eyes? You say it's untrue, but from the way he's watching me, I don't think so."

You look over his shoulder to where Bucky and Sam stand, both looking incredibly unimpressed as they glare at you and Zemo. There's a particular look of intensity in Bucky's eyes like you'd personally scorned him. And maybe you had after your short conversation upstairs. "Friends look out for each other, that's all."

"Perhaps."

"Hey, guys," Sharon calls, breaking up Zemo's inquisition. "I found him."

"Here we go," Sam mutters. 

You sigh deeply, "Let's go." 

The Twin Flame Chapter List AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

Please let me know what you think! 💛

[adoringhaikyuu]

you’re horny on your period 

characters: aone + atsumu + kageyama + kenma + (gn!reader) 

request: hey babes, can i request hq boys (of ur choice, but with tsumu on it pls) with a fem s/o whos on her period and very horny? lol, if ur uncomfortable with it i'll totally understand • by anonymous

warnings: horny tings, suggestive tings, period sex mentions but nothing actually happens <3

notes: everyone is 18+ in this !! the reader has their period obviously but there are no pronouns used so technically it’s gn :) i actually rly like this one!

aone 

you tried to get over it, but it was no use

it’d been an hour and you were still needy, an unsatisfied ache in the pit of your stomach and between your legs, not just because of your cramps

you were debating telling aone because you didn’t to bother him and period sex could be messy and some might even say gross

but of course, like the observant boyfriend he is, he noticed something was bothering you

aone walked into your bedroom, immediately sensing your discomfort. he stopped in front of the bed where you were sitting. his voice was gentle, despite his serious exterior but you could tell he was worried. “cramps?” 

you paused, deciding to speak before you changed your mind. “yeah, but that’s not really what’s bothering me...” 

he raised his brows, silently asking you to explain so he could help you.

“i...” you rubbed your thighs together, shuffling on the bed nervously as you focused your eyes on the sheets rather than his curious eyes. “i’m just feeling kind of needy?”

he stayed standing, “oh...would you like me to help?”

“yes–no?” you looked up to see him tilting his head at you, confused. “i just know some people find it gross and it can be messy, you know? don’t wanna be a bother.” 

“your issue is the mess?” 

you nodded and he hummed before leaving without another word. you sunk down a bit. you were fully prepared for it to go either way, but the rejection still kinda hurt a bit. you were about to go to the shower to take care of yourself when aone came back into the room, a towel and wipes in his hand. 

you looked up at him shocked, “what––”

he put the towel down and set the wipes aside, “for the mess.”

you immediately got up and pulled him in for a kiss, making his eyes widen slightly before he gave in, holding you by the waist. you mumbled against his lips, “i love you so much.” when you pulled away, you noticed the light blush and subtle smile on his face.

he licked his lips. “i love you too.” 

atsumu

normally when you were on your period, you wouldn’t let tsumu touch you tbh

period sex was a hassle

and normally you could control yourself or just take care of yourself on your own time in the shower or while he was out

but today for some reason, you needed him 

well you knew the reason actually––

as soon as atsumu came home, drenched in sweat from the gym, his grey tank top practically glued to his torso. you could see his neck shining and even his hair was wet, which you saw once he took off his cap. 

he set things down and immediately ran over to you on the couch to give you a quick kiss. “hey babe,” he grinned and stood up straight, stretching his arms behind his head, which wasn’t helping you at all. “damn that workout was intense, i’m beat. i’m gonna head to the shower, okay? then we can cuddle.” 

you opened your mouth but didn’t say anything, nodding instead. he smiled and headed towards the bathroom but he only made it about three steps before you stopped him with a call of his name, the sight of his back only furthering the feelings you had.

he turned back, “yeah?” 

you paused, “i um...” you sighed, “i need you.”

you could see a smile forming it’s way onto his face slowly, not wanting to get his hopes up too soon. he always wanted to help you out on your period but you’d never let him. 

“like need me need me?” 

you nodded “but we’ll only do it in the shower!” 

the smile finally burst on in his face. he made his way over to you again and planted a big kiss on your lips, groaning happily when you moaned lightly. 

“on second thought another workout doesn’t sound too bad.” he winked and smiled cheekily before throwing you over his shoulder and running to the bathroom, ignoring your yelp. 

“what got you so worked up anyway?” he asked casually, stepping into the bathroom. 

he set you down and you looked up at him sheepishly, “you...”

he grinned smugly, his hands reaching for your shirt. “oh i am so blowing your back out–”

kageyama

you tried to ignore what you were feeling, not wanting to ruin the moment since you and kageyama loved to do this every week

have a movie night and just relax

and you now he’d been working really hard lately so he deserved some rest

but you had a problem

you kept fidgeting in your seat next to him, trying to either relieve yourself slightly or make it go away, you weren’t too sure

and to be honest you weren’t really paying attention to it and kageyama could tell

after twenty minutes or so into the movie, he asked you what was wrong but you waved him off, assuring him it was nothing

but you couldn’t help but focus on him, the sharp cut of his jawline, the curve of his lips

then he put his hand on your thigh and you got to thinking of the feeling of his hands on you

and that sent you down a tunnel of unholy thoughts

kageyama felt your fingertips tracing the veins in his hands and tried to ignore it at first, keeping his eyes trained on the tv. but when you let your fingers trail up along his arm as well, his hand subconsciously squeezed your thigh and his eyes widened when you let out a quiet moan.

you both paused and kageyama turned his head slowly, eyes wide and looked at you, his lips parted. “are you–” he swallowed, trying to calm himself down. “okay?” 

you looked over at him, trying to act innocent. “mhm. just tickled, that’s all.” 

he nodded and turned back to the screen, and you tried to as well, but you kept glancing back at him, debating with yourself about whether or not you should say something. you didn’t want to be selfish and disrupt the movie, but you also couldn’t ignore what you were feeling, it was too intense. 

it lasted about five minutes before he looked at you from the corner of his eye. “you know i can see you watching me, right?” 

you felt your cheeks heat up and you huffed. “i’m sorry i just...” he turned to face you fully, curious and a bit concerned. his hand trailed up to your inner thigh, completely innocently and that’s when you decided you couldn’t hide it anymore. 

“i’m horny tobio.” 

his eyes brightened and he stuttered for a bit, “o–oh. well––do you want me to help?” he started to move closer but you looked to the side and he stopped. 

“it’s just––i’m on my period.” when he didn’t say anything for a few seconds you looked back to find him staring at you blankly.

he tilted his head and looked from side to side. “and?” 

you opened your mouth and closed it. “well...i’m, you know...bleeding...doesn’t that bother you? it’ll take more like effort and i know you’re tired––”

he cut you off, placing a hand under your chin, a shy smile on his face. “i don’t care about that. plus wouldn’t it help with your cramps?” 

you nodded, “well, only if you make me cum.” 

his brows furrowed, offended. “i always make you!” 

“yeah you do.” you laughed, taking his hand in yours, making him smile at you. “but are you sure you want to do this now? it might get messy.”

he leaned in and kissed your cheek before pulling back to look at you earnestly, his eyes a shade darker. “i don’t care.” he kissed you on the lips, “all i care about,” his hand tilted your head and pulled you closer, whispering against your lips. “is making you feel better.” 

kenma

kenma could tell something was off about you

he knew you were on your period but there was something else that he couldn’t figure out

he was waiting for you to tell him but you never did

the thing is, you’d just moved in together a few months ago and while you’ve had a couple periods in the same house 

(which he’s totally normal about) 

you haven’t done anything while you were on your period

normally you’d take care of yourself, but you felt a little self conscious about doing it in your shared house for some reason 

and kenma like never left the house

sure, he had his headphones on a lot but still––

so you were a little tense and though you thought he was distracted, he definitely noticed

kenma stepped into your room and you smiled up at him before going back to your phone, thinking he was switching from the ps4 to the pc set up in your bedroom. but he didn’t, he came and stood next to your side of the bed, making you look up at him in surprise. 

“oh hey ken,” you sat up, your legs pressed tightly together. “what’s up?”

he looked at you for a moment before speaking up. “nothing...what’s wrong with you?”

your brows furrowed, “what do you mean?”

he sighed. “i can tell something’s wrong...” he looked down, a bit shy. “i was waiting for you to come to me about it but you never did. was it something i did?”

your eyes widened, he’d noticed? “no––no you didn’t do anything wrong babe.”

“oh.” he nodded, crouching down beside you, resting his chin on the mattress. “then what is it? i can tell it’s not nothing.” 

you swallowed and set your phone down before looking down at him. “i just...” you sighed, “i’m kind of worked up...and i was too nervous to do something about it.” 

his eyes widened this time. “oh––”

you looked away. “yeah.” 

“well you don’t have to be nervous about that.” he stood up, a small smile on his face. “that’s perfectly fine.” 

you looked up at him, “oh, really?”

he nodded, “of course.”

you smiled, “oh thank you. so how long are you staying out for?”

his brows furrowed, “what? why would i leave the house––”

“wait you wanna stay?––” you paused, “well can you at least put your headphones on and close the bedroom door on your way out?” 

he blinked at you. “how can i help you if i’m not in the room?” 

you blinked back. “you want to help me?” 

he blushed and nodded sheepishly, “yeah...why wouldn’t i?” 

you stuttered a bit, “well i just––you know i’m bleeding, that could get messy...” 

he paused and glanced around the room seemingly in thought, and you figured that he was rethinking the whole situation until he spoke up again. “well i want you to be comfortable and the shower isn’t the best place for that...so how about i just get a towel to put here instead?” 

you stared at him for a few seconds, “each day i fall more and more in love with you.” 

he blushed even deeper and tried to hide his smile as he turned around, “shut up––i’m going to get the towel.” 

[monkeyparasite]

Hi, are you still interested in doing Gorillaz requests? If not, then that's fine. But if so, can you do Gorillaz with a partner who has cynophobia (fear of dogs)? I have this and I would be interested to see how the band members would react. Thank you in advance!

OMG OF COURSE!! I LOVE DOING THIS STUFF! I forgot to mention that I was still taking requests, so thats my fault!

Just a heads up, this is a bit light hearted silly, I cant be serious about anything unfortunately

Murdoc

Thought you were joking at first (if you brought it up), which made him blank faced, but after telling him, you were very much not joking, he went "OOOOOOHH!!" And brought up all the horrible events he had with dogs, which I think he brought to try and sympathize with you, but I really don't know if you want to hear the many stories he has of him running away from multiple police dogs after vandalizing some building with multiple spelling errors

Now if he found out by experience from you jumping back and refusing to go near a dog in someone's fenced backyard, then he finds it cute and takes this as a chance to be a macho man, and bark back at the dog, thankfully the dog did stop barking but I would too if someone barked at me

Makes sure to avoid any place that might have dogs, and if there is any dogs, he tries to keep you from noticing them in any way he can, like carrying you into the water at the beach to avoid one sitting next to its owner, while the owner gives Murdoc a dirty look because he stole their sun lotion 😭😭

2D

Understands greatly! Admits to being scared of some animals too, like Murdoc! The second most horrifying animal of them all ((LMAO SORRY))

If he learns from experience though, jumps a little bit because he wasn't expecting the dog to just run up at him, thankfully Russel deals with the dog! He may be a cat lover at heart, but he can still fit room in his heart for some pups too, but yeah, 2D gets behind you and watches out for you, ushering you to go into the gas station so you can get that slushy Ace asked for, also so you don't have to face the possibility of facing the dog again!

Makes sure to keep you far away from them, so no dog parks, only empty parks with swing sets so he can push you on the swings, ans then you can push him and oh goddamnit Russel went down the slide when Murdoc was at the end of it again, oh well, Murdoc shouldnt have refused to get off of it!

Russel

Takes the information quite well actually, he doesn't mind! Very supportive and understanding, he does ask if your scared of cats too though; apologizing before asking, knowing that its insensitive of him to ask. He just loves cats, and he found some cat videos that day that he wanted to show you

Experience is a whole different story! He has someone take care of you and calm you down, while he deals with the pup. He picks it up and returns it to the owner, ignoring that it did ruin his ruin his chance to pick up a penny he saw on the ground and do a little magic trick

Is sure to keep you away from dogs at all costs as well, well, at a good distance at least so he can bury you in the sand and have 2D, Ace, and Noodle also help bury him in the sand next to you

Noodle

Same as Russel, yet she doesn't fully understand, only knowing that they can be loud and gross. Also makes sure you aren't scared of cats, like Russel, again.

While for experience, she forces a smile at the dog as it runs up to you too, grabbing the nearest rock and throwing it, and when it goes to catch it, she grabs your hand and bolts. She is not sacrifing her lovers time to play fetch with some dog nor is she gettingdog snot on her new good shoes, no way, not happening

How she keeps you away from dogs is.. strange but nice, I guess? She's asks in a very sweet voice, baby talk, to go get their parent, and they bolt to their owner, where they are now thankfully put on a leash, too bad Ace still got his back trampled on

Ace

Is so surprised and actually happy, if that makes sense? He has some bad experiences with dogs that made him afraid of them, like getting chased by police dogs! But hes very supportive, understanding, and such more!

Experience though, he picks you up bridal style and runs the opposite direction of the dog screaming his lungs out, i think hes crying a little bit too. Wanna know where he hides at with you? The gas station. You can get one slurpy, its on him, you two gotta share though

Does the exact same thing expect he runs to whoever is closet and tries hiding behind them, or just runs to Jack Black. Jack Black makes everything better

[mc-lukanette]

Hear me out... Scarlet Lady AU, but it’s Lukanette

(takes place after “Captain Hardrock”)

Luka hunched over his guitar, only for another sting of pain to hit his back. He groaned, straightening up instead, but that somehow made the soreness even worse. Juleka chuckled at him from her place on her bed, having long since given up on moving her muscles at all and preferring to laze around.

He shot her a glare, but didn't comment so as to not encourage her. As he'd predicted, they were indeed sore from trying to stop the Liberty yesterday, his arms wordlessly complaining whenever he tried to do anything with them. He didn't regret it, but it'd also made making new songs a hassle, worsened by the fact that he'd very much gotten inspiration courtesy of Marinette.

After trying to ignore the soreness for around ten minutes, he heard a set of footsteps from above deck, from someone who was clearly heading down below. He knew they couldn't have been his mother - the signature "clack" of her boots sounded much different - but it also seemed somewhat familiar.

He realized it a bit too late, just in time for Marinette to get downstairs and pop her head into the room. "Hi!"

He sucked in a breath as subtly as possible, maintaining his poker face as he replied, "Hey."

"Hey," Juleka greeted, rotating her arm just enough to wave and clearly not wanting to put in more effort than that. She didn't even turn her head.

Luka chuckled. "Jule's busy today if you needed her for something."

"Shut up," she hissed. "It was your idea."

"Huh?" Marinette asked, looking back and forth between the two. "Oh! No, I was here to see Luka, actually—not that I'm not happy to see you too, Juleka! Just..." She grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of her head.

Marinette was there... to see him? Not his sister?

Luka glanced down, confirming that he was still wearing pants and therefore this wasn't a dream about to go horribly wrong.

Juleka's eyes flicked over to the two of them, her head having to actually move to do so. She squinted, like she was analyzing something, then groaned and slammed her hands down on the bed. She pushed herself up, clearly ignoring the way her body protested, then began her walk across the room.

Just before she reached the doorway, she leaned back to make eye contact with Marinette, warning her, "Careful with him. He's creaking like the floorboards."

Luka shot Juleka a glare, but she'd already zipped out of the room before he could blindly grab his pillow to throw at her.

For being so sore, you sure got away quickly, he thought, very much aware that she left because him being mushy with Marinette (also known as "normal and understandable because look at her") was "gross."

Marinette's eyes followed Juleka until the retreating footsteps could be heard moving up deck, then turned back to Luka. "Creaking?"

"Ah—" Well, there went any hope of avoiding that topic. "We used Chat's baton yesterday to stall the ship, but it was hard even with all seven of us. We're all still a little sore from it."

She furrowed a brow, like something had confused her, but then shook her head and replied, "Oh, that really does sound tough! I'm sorry I couldn't be there!"

"It's okay." He smiled reassuringly, remembering what he'd been told before. "You were the one who got Marigold there. She saved us."

Her cheeks turned pink and he vaguely wondered if it was obvious how cute he thought - knew - she was. She ducked her head, then did a small wiggle of her hips before abruptly looking back up at him. "Um—! That's actually what I came to talk you about? I mean—not Marigold—or her saving you—or me and Marigold—but—"

Luka snorted, lightly patting the spot on his bed next to him instead of replying. The familiar gesture caught her attention, her voice trailing off as she slowly made her way over to sit next to him. She toyed with her fringe, seeming to get her words in order, then turned to look at him.

"I never got to thank you," she said. When he tilted his head in confusion, she clarified, "I wouldn't have been able to call Marigold if you hadn't saved me."

He smiled warmly at her. "It was nothing, Marinette."

"No, really, you thought so quick!" she insisted, leaning towards him with her hands flat on the mattress to support herself. "And you stayed behind too to make sure Captain Hardrock was fooled! That was brave of you."

He leaned away, face flushing red as he tried to control the stupid grin on his face. "Thanks. You were really brave too, finding a way out to get Marigold's attention."

He didn't tell her that he purposefully didn't hide with her because the sound of his heartbeat would've given their hiding spot away.

Marinette beamed at him, but seemed to realize how close she'd been leaning and pulled back with a sheepish grin. Luka returned to his original position too, but flinched when his spine rejected the movement with a spike of pain. He let out a mix of a groan and a sigh, Marinette's brows raising in concern.

"I could give you a massage...?"

The headstock of Luka's guitar hit the bed as he jerked his head up, the instrument in his lap forgotten as he stared ahead at Marinette, eyes wide. She was looking back at him with a blank expression, like she hadn't fully realized what she'd said.

Then, it hit her, and he swore he saw her pigtails bounce up in shock as her face shifted to realization.

"I-I just—I mean—!" She flailed her arms at him. "See, my papa always does it for my maman and—when you groaned like that it reminded me of it—so—"

The fact that she'd compared his bones to those of an aging adult went ignored in favor of noticing that she hadn't even tried to take the offer back. His heart pounded like the inside of his body was a brand new drumset, and he could only utter a weak, "Okay," in reply.

She'd still been rambling at the time, but somehow his voice managed to break through. She paused mid-sentence, her mouth still open as she processed his answer. "...Really?"

He merely nodded, not trusting his voice to avoid cracking if he tried to respond.

"Oh. Um, alright, oh..." she mumbled to herself, clearly having not expected to get this far.

Luka felt the bed shift underneath him as Marinette maneuvered herself behind him, at which point it really hit him that she was seriously about to massage him. He leaned forward, mentally preparing himself, though was quickly reminded of the guitar still resting in his lap. He pulled it off and set it where Marinette had originally been sitting, resting his hands in front of himself afterward.

The silence dragged for a moment, and he could sense Marinette's eyes on him, as if she were debating with herself on how to go about massaging him. He opened his mouth to give her an out, but all manner of coherent speech left him as her hands pressed into his back, thin fingers sliding along his shoulders and squeezing. He sucked in a breath, oxygen having a hard time getting into a body already stuffed full of feelings.

It was heaven, and added several sheets worth of music that he desperately needed to write.

"I-is this alright?" she asked. "Am I doing well?"

He tried to reply, but all that left his mouth was a sound that was both inhuman and embarrassing. Pressing one hand into the mattress, he covered his mouth with the other, his face turning red as he briefly debated on living in the drawer underneath his bed in lieu of having a hole to crawl into.

He changed his mind. It was hell. She was doing amazing but that was the problem and it was hell.

Marinette giggled, the sound he made apparently being answer enough for her as she continued massaging him. Her embarrassment had left by that point and he couldn't help being jealous of it, as his own had doubled.

After a few seconds had passed, Marinette spoke up again, "So, ah..."

He wasn't sure if she genuinely had a question or was trying to spare him, but he'd take it either way. "Mm?"

"I was wondering. Since Jagged's your favorite singer, what do you think of XY?"

He let out another sound, less involuntary than the last at least, though it was still too high-pitched to make anyone believe that he wasn't affected by Marinette's motions. He cleared his throat, making sure he sounded as normal as possible before answering, "The flaws in his music stick out like his hair."

The hands on his back froze, Marinette snickering and then full-on laughing. "Oh, you think so too?"

He grinned like the fool he was, tempted to look back at her but feeling like it'd be rude. "Yeah. I can't stand his music."

"Me neither. It's so... bland and uninspired."

The mental image of them drop-kicking XY into the Seine together entered his mind, a blissful sigh escaping him just in time for Marinette to restart her massage.

"You're really passionate about music," she observed, almost sounding as if she'd been talking to herself. "It almost makes me wish I played an instrument."

"I can give you lessons," he blurted out, then immediately backpedaled with an, "if you want, anyway."

Her tone lightened. "Thanks. I might have to take you up on that. Just... not when I'm so busy."

He shrugged his shoulders, both of which already felt infinitely better under her touch. He could tell she wasn't lying, so he wasn't offended by the hesitance.

As her hands trailed down his back and he tried not to look as if every touch was sending his heart on tour, she hummed thoughtfully, like her body was there but her mind was elsewhere.

"...Hey," she called. He waited, knowing that there was something else, and she continued, "Have you ever... been stuck between songs?"

"Stuck between songs?" he echoed, trying to piece together what she meant.

"Yeah, like—" She made an unsure sound - unfortunately not an embarrassing one like his when she pressed into his lower back - then clarified, "—maybe there are a few songs you like, and it's hard picking your favorite? Or you have some songs you want to write, but don't know which one to go with?"

He got the distinct feeling that she wasn't talking about music, but it was adorable how she worded it in a way relating to his specialty so he could help her. He mulled over the question seriously, the most difficult task just being drawing enough focus away from her movements so he could answer her.

"A few times," he replied. "It all comes down to feeling then. My favorite song or the one I want to write could just be which one I'm curious about."

"What do you mean?"

"Well—" He blushed faintly, completely unaware that his metaphors were syncing with hers. "—a song that I want to know more about; to listen to over and over until I know it intro to outro. A song that makes me want to keep writing." He glanced over his shoulder at her, hoping the eye contact might help carry the meaning along. "I think those are the best kinds."

Her brows were furrowed in thought, as if he'd given her a hard equation that she was struggling to solve. He faced forward again to hide his smile when he noticed the spark of recognition in her eyes, like the metaphor had stuck and he'd actually helped her.

"I think I get it," she confirmed, the massage briefly stopping as she made idle circles on his back; still equally as distracting if he were honest. Even though he couldn't see her face, he could hear the smile in her voice as she said, "I like this one."

"What one?" he asked obliviously, though she didn't answer the question and pressed into his back again, making him squeak and forget his curiosity altogether.

The conversation ended there, lulling into something peaceful and comfortable. Luka actually found himself relaxing without much embarrassment, though there was still some pink to his face from his newfound crush giving him a massage. He just hoped he could make it through the rest of their time together without her realizing what a mess he was.

Then, as if something had occurred to her, Marinette noted casually, "Oh, I should do your arms next."

Luka's face burned. This girl was going to kill him.