#Marvel Unleashed 1

[dispatchdcu]

Marvel Unleashed #1 Preview

Marvel Unleashed #1 Preview #marvelunleashed #petavengers #lockjaw #lockjawandthepetavengers #MARVEL #marvelcomics #comics #comicbooks #news #mcu #art #info #NCBD #comicbooknews #previews #reviews

Marvel Unleashed #1 Preview: KRAVEN UNLEASHES THE BEASTS! When Kraven abducts Lockjaw at the same time a local scientist mixed up with A.I.M. goes missing, it’s up to Throg the Frog of Thunder, Redwing the Falcon, Chewie the Cat Flerken, Lucky the Pizza Dog, Bats the Ghost Dog and their scrappy new ally D-Dog to save the day. But there’s more to this case than meets the eye, and something…

[incorrect-tmnt2012-quotes]

Donnie: Is everything a joke to you?! Mikey: We all have our coping mechanisms.

[theodore-sallis]

“Several Meaningless Deaths Part 1”, Monsters Unleashed (Vol. 1/1973), #8.

Writer: Steve Gerber; Penciler: Pat Broderick; Al Milgrom

[deadpooltato]

Im so insane about them

also they're are literally soulmates

people only get spideypool on a surface level, saw someone say “poolverine and spideypool are equally as good” to YOU but i am crazy. spideypool devotion drives me crazy. wade would stop killing if peter asked him to. wade would kill if peter asked him to. wade has died for peter without hesitation. wade refuses to live WITHOUT peter. peter trust deadpool despite his morals because of this. the devotion is SO enriching.

i don’t care about sExUaL tEnSiOn, we get that every tuesday. what do you MEAN killing was all wade had and he gave that to peter then morality was the best thing that happened to him then he also gave that to peter without hesitation, WHAT?

[antiquarianfics]

Marry me? Nah. Marry me? Yeah.

4 times Bucky Barnes asks you to marry him and you refuse. 1 time Bucky Barnes asks you to marry him and you accept.

A/N: I have been working on this for the last day, so enjoy. HOWEVER, I wrote it on my phone and refuse to proof it. Warning(s): Some canon level violence, swearing. Note: I do not own Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.

You do not have permission to steal or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

—

Proposal 1

The first time Bucky Barnes proposes to you, you aren’t even dating. The two of you are paired on a mission to dismantle a HYDRA base hidden deep in the Appalachian Mountains in Kentucky. You had met before but never shared more than polite conversation. Steve had assured Bucky you weren’t scared of him, but that you wouldn’t push him to speak with you. Bucky never quite believed him, so he never attempted to converse with you either.

However, when you’re paired on this mission, you take that as the go-ahead to finally speak to him.

“So, Barnes,” you say, nudging his shoulder with your own, “guess we’ve got to come up with more conversation topics than the weather.”

“Guess so,” he replies.

It is during the mission he proposes. There are more HYDRA agents active than expected, and they come at the two of you guns blazing while you’re distracted setting up an explosive at a structural point of the complex.

“Y/L/N,” Bucky says to grab your attention, “we’ve got company.”

You bite your lip, finishing your task before standing and pulling your rifle from your back, preparing yourself for a fight.

“Don’t worry, honey, I’ve got this one,” you tease, shooting him a wink before unleashing precise kill shots before Bucky even thinks to pull his own trigger. After taking out a dozen soldiers, a few manage to get close to you, and you hit one in the head with the butt of your gun and then quickly pull a knife from a thigh holster while pivoting on your foot to slit another’s throat. You shoot the unconscious soldier in the head for good measure before wiping your knife on your pants.

With your knife returned to its home on your thigh, you look up at Bucky who is staring at you with a dumbfounded, albeit impressed, look on his face. You had taken out 14 men on your own. He was in love.

The words “marry me” slipped past his lips before he could stop them, and you laugh.

“Maybe buy me dinner first, Sarge.”

Proposal 2

The second time Bucky Barnes proposes to you, you’re comforting him after a nightmare. It is late at night, at the point it was really morning, and you happen to hear his screams through his bedroom door.

You stop at his door, letting a frown set on your face before reaching out for his doorknob. You hesitate before opening it, wondering if he’ll appreciate you barging in on him in such a vulnerable state. Then, he screams again—louder—and you turn the doorknob, letting yourself in.

The sight you’re met with is heartbreaking. Bucky is tossing and turning, his sheets bunched at his feet, comforter on the ground. He’s sweating buckets and whimpering what sounds like, “Please, no. Not the chair. Please!” over and over again. You choke back a sob before crossing over to him, gently lying a comforting hand on his shoulder and calling out his name.

“Bucky, honey, wake up. It’s just a dream, hun.”

The touch and sudden sound wake him up from what is truly a light sleep. Bucky shoots up into a sitting position, right hand shooting out to grab the hand touching him, and eyes darting around the room until they land on you.

“Shh,” you coo, “you’re okay, Bucky. It’s me, Y/N. It was just a dream. You’re safe.”

Bucky’s heart rate slows to a normal pace, and he lets out a shaky breath.

“Y/N?” He asks hesitantly. “W-what are you doing here?” His voice is small, like a terrified child’s, and you can’t help but frown at the thought.

You let your hand move to cup his face, noting that he relaxes at the gentle touch, leaning his face ever so slightly into your touch.

“I was headed to the kitchen and I heard you scream. I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

He nods, eyes searching yours for some sort of anger or resentment for bothering you. He doesn’t find any.

“Can I do anything to make you feel better?” You ask kindly.

“Um,” Bucky says, voice shaky. “Would you mind—you don’t have to—but would you mind staying with me? Only if you want.”

You smile kindly, pressing a comforting kiss to his cheek before climbing into his bed with him, pulling his head close to your chest.

“When I was little, I lived in a house in the woods for a while,” you say randomly, catching Bucky’s attention. His eyebrows scrunch together in some sort of confusion, but he says nothing. “At dinner one night, I look out the glass door onto the porch. Wanna know what I saw?”

Bucky hums his agreement as your hand works it’s way into his hair and your fingers begin to massage his scalp.

“4 raccoons!” You exclaim. “3 babies and a mama. We had a toddler slide on the porch at the time,” you continue, “and the baby raccoons kept climbing the little ladder and sliding down. The mama just sat a little bit away and watched and stole cat food occasionally.”

Bucky chuckles, finding your story cute but also recognizing your attempt to distract and soothe him after his nightmare. He appreciates it more than he himself understands; he is comforted by your voice more than he feels he should be. He lets the proposal slip a second time: “Marry me?”

You grin and press a kiss to his head.

“Not yet, hun.”

Proposal 3

The third proposal comes after the two of you begin dating.

Bucky takes you out on a date to a little coffee shop in Brooklyn you both had become fond of. You’re standing to the side of the café, out of the way, waiting on your order. Bucky has his right arm around your shoulders while you lean into him; his left hand stuck in his jacket pocket.

“So Natasha’s screaming at Clint to show himself so that she can kill him, right? Like, she was so fucking pissed at him. And Clint is in the fucking air vents—like those big ones people crawl through in action movies—hiding from her. Over a remote, Bucky!” You excitedly recount one of the most ridiculous encounters you’ve ever had with the Avengers to your boyfriend who is quietly listening with a fond smile.

“Like, ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes’ my ass,” you scoff. You’re about to add another thought to the discussion when you hear someone else’s conversation from a few feet away.

Bucky tenses. You tense.

“Personally, I think they should’ve carted him off to the South, or somethin’, and put him in the chair,” a younger man—college age—says. “The death penalty, y’know? An eye for an eye, and all that. I mean, the guy killed a lot of people.”

“Fuck, man,” his companion, another college aged man, says. “Don’t you think that’s a little harsh? I mean, he’s also like a war hero and a prisoner of war.”

“He killed innocent people, man. Like, people’s kids and shit.”

“I guess.”

Bucky clenches his jaw, and he also tightens his grip on your waist when he feels you start to move away from him.

“It’s fine, doll,” he assures you, but he doesn’t seem fine to you.

The barista calls out “Barnes” and Bucky kisses the top of your head before moving to grab your drinks. You, however, take the opportunity to address the disrespectful boys while your boyfriend isn’t holding you back.

“Excuse me,” you say, walking up to them.

“Fuck!” One says, jumping a little. “You’re an Avenger.”

“Mhmm,” you agree. “So is Sergeant Barnes who you so innocently suggested deserves the chair.” You jam a finger into his chest.

“You have absolutely no fucking right to talk about him that way. He gave his life for this fucking country; fought alongside your grandparents. The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry. Shit. It’s not like my opinion is gonna change anything.”

Before you can say anything else, you feel Bucky’s hand wrap around your bicep, pulling you away from the college kids and into his side. He leans close to your ear to whisper, “Doll, it’s fine. Come on.”

He pulls you out of the coffee shop before you have time to protest.

Walking down the street, you’re ranting, letting your arms flail around angrily.

“What the actual fuck is their problem?! You can have your obviously wrong opinions, but why would you express them so loudly in front of the person you’re talking about? You’re a fucking Avenger. You’re a good man. Why would they pardon you if you weren’t? Why would the Avengers adopt you as one of our own if you weren’t? Pieces of shit! Hateful, fascist, brain dead, ungrateful, military-hating, assholes!”

Bucky can’t help but laugh at your insults, and he can’t help but feel flattered that you care enough to defend him.

“Sweetheart, it’s really fine. I’m used to it,” he assures you, finally handing you your coffee he’d been balancing in his hand.

You take it, but shoot him an incredulous look.

“Like hell it’s okay! You deserve better than that bullshit, Bucky. You deserve to go out on a date with your girlfriend without being fucking harassed.”

Bucky pulls you into his side, kissing your head like he had earlier, and murmurs into your hair his third proposal.

“Marry me.”

You smile softly.

“Nah,” you say, leaning into his hold. He laughs.

Proposal 4

The fourth time Bucky proposes to you, it’s less direct.

In fact, you’re in the field, lying on your back in Bucky’s arms while he frantically puts pressure on a bullet wound in your gut.

“Steve,” he says into the coms, “Y/N’s down. She got shot. I’ve got to get her back to the jet.”

“Go,” Steve responds quickly, “I’ll cover you.”

Bucky’s attention falls to you, grimacing at the blood covering his hands.

“Hold on, baby. I’ve got you,” he says, lifting you into his arms as gently as you can.

“I’m fiiinnneee,” you slur, unsteadily and awkwardly reaching to pat his face. Your action, meant to be comforting, only adds to your boyfriend’s anxiety.

“Doll, you’ve been shot, and it isn’t a clean wound.”

“That’s nothin’!”

Bucky grunts indignantly in response.

Finally, he gets you back to the jet, moving through the aircraft quickly to get you to a stretcher to triage you best he can. When there is nothing more he can do, he holds your hand, doing his best not to cry or show how scared he is.

“Y/N, stay awake for me, alright?” He pleads, squeezing your hand.

Your eyes flutter open and you smile goofily.

“No worries, Doll,” you giggle as you call him by the pet name he reserves for you. “I’m A-Okay.”

Bucky scoffs.

“You’re bleeding out.”

“You fixed me.”

“Not fully; I put a bandaid on you really.”

“Silly. Bandaids fix you!” You try to comfort, but you fall into a laughing fit.

“Doll, I need you to take this seriously so you make it. You’ve gotta marry me.”

“You didn’t ask me to!” You say, narrowing your eyes and pointing accusingly.

Bucky smiles at your antics.

“Marry me, Doll?”

You smile fondly as you stare up at Bucky.

“Ask me again when I’m not bleeding out.”

Proposal 5

The fifth time Bucky Barnes proposes to you is the last time.

You convince the super soldier to go hiking with you; you argue he deserves to sit and watch a waterfall with his girlfriend. He gives in easily because you’re not easy for him to say no to.

The two of you find a local hiking trail that leads to a decent sized waterfall, and you’re pleased to find the trail is mostly deserted. You only run into a few stray hikers along the trail.

Bucky smiles as you hike, watching as you excitedly stop to watch centipedes cross the path, or point out woodpeckers, or smell flowers. Finally, the two of you reach the waterfall and you squeal in excitement, running a few paces ahead of Bucky and jumping to let out some excited energy.

“Buck, look! It’s gorgeous!”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, slowing to a stop behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin in the crook of your neck.

The two of you stand like that, in each other’s embrace, for a few minutes, watching the waterfall, listening to nature around you.

“Thank you for coming up here with with me,” you say, turning around to place a grateful kiss on Bucky’s lips. He gently returns the kiss before pulling away.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

You peck his lips again before turning back to the waterfall.

“Look!” You say upon turning around. “Bucky, a rainbow!” The spray of the water and the beams of sunlight meet to display a rainbow in front of you.

When Bucky doesn’t respond, you curiously turn around.

“Bucky? Oh!”

Bucky is on one knee, a ring box open in his hands, held out to you.

“Y/N, will you marry me?”

There is no speech, there is no absurd gesture. There is just Bucky, and there is just a question.

It’s perfect.

“Yes.”

“Finally.”

[alittleflowerchild]

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[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (8)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Spencer and Y/n get caught up in their newfound bliss. wc: 3,3k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content (this part includes chocking, slight cockwarming, unprotected sex, creampie, and sub Spence), graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide

a/n: another smut update, enjoy it while it lasts because the plot will unravel soon

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

THE MOMENT HIS LIPS MET HERS WITH URGENCY, she knew there was no turning back. She could feel the taste of desperation and desire in his kiss, a bittersweet cocktail that ignited her senses. His lips moved with a raw intensity, as if desperate to imprint his very essence upon her, to leave an indelible mark upon her being.

Their breaths mingled; fevered and erratic as if trying to merge into one unified rhythm. And her hands, driven by instinct, clung to him with an intensity borne of the same desperation. Fingertips traced the contours of his jawline, mapping the strong curves of his face before they brushed the back of his neck, pulling him closer to her while her hips swayed along his groin.

While her hands threaded into his hair, his hands began roaming toward her waist as they slipped under her shirt. She gasped as his calloused fingers tugged at her nipples, twisting the buds between his thumb and forefinger over the sheer cloth of her bra. Underneath her, she could feel the length of him growing each time she moved. She could feel the sensation building in her body too as she continued to roll her hips, hiding her face in his neck.

The textured gabardine of his slacks rubbed against her in the sweetest way as a shudder rolled up her body. Spencer slid his hands down her waist before placing them on her backside, gently squeezing her ass while pushing and pulling her over him faster.

A breathless whine left her lips as his hardness caught her clit, her inner walls clenching around nothing as she began to grind herself frantically against him. "Shit, I'm close," she whispered against his skin, hands sliding down his body until she could feel his broad chest over his shirt.

Spencer's body tensed in surprise. "Just by this?"

She nodded. Experimentally, he thrust his hips a little harder into her, eliciting a breathless moan out of her. He couldn't stop the amused laughter falling from his lips, marveling at her reaction.

"And here I thought I wasn't good in bed," he commented.

She slightly leaned back to catch the amused glint in his eyes, and when she decided she didn't like his teasing, a newfound desire surged through her veins.

The smirk playing on his lips sent ripples of electricity coursing through her body, igniting a fire within her that demanded to be unleashed. Suddenly, she was no longer content to be the passive recipient of pleasure; she hungered for the taste of control.

So she grabbed onto the back of his head and tugged his hair, a surprised gasp falling from his lips as he saw a new intensity in her eyes.

"Stop gloating," she demanded, and then she devoured him, tasting his mouth all over again. Her kisses became bold and commanding, exploring every inch of his willing body with an intensity that left him breathless. He could sense a shift in the dynamics between them, a change that intrigued and aroused him in equal measure. Her sudden desire to take control awakened a thrilling sense of submission within him.

Then she pulled away and quickly took off her jacket before throwing it away somewhere in the room. Her shirt followed to the floor, and Spencer watched in anticipation as she unhooked her bra before she was left half-naked sitting on his lap. He gently reached out as his fingertips danced along her skin, burning wherever it touched.

He softly placed a kiss on the nape of her neck, his arms moving around her body before pulling her closer. "I think we should move to my bedroom."

"Why?"

His brows furrowed at the question as he leaned back. "Because the condoms are there?"

She gazed into the depths of his eyes, searching for the spark of understanding, the glimmer of reciprocation. Her heart beat in synchrony with the rhythm of her breath, both quickened by the anticipation of what was to come. She finally gathered her courage and broke the silence.

"I want to feel you."

His heart beat in tandem with the rhythm of this silent interlude, its pace quickened by the resonance of her words. "...what?"

"I want to feel you. I-I'm on the pill... and I'm clean," she added. "Are you?"

He slowly nodded, trying to catch any glimpse of doubt in her eyes but was met with none. "Well, yes, but are you sure? I can just go back there and get—"

"Do you not want to?"

A disbelief sound emitted from his chest. "Y/n, I'd be a fool to decline such an offer."

"Then let me feel you."

He pondered for a moment, wondering if this was a wise discussion. But as he studied her face, he couldn’t help but giving in, slowly giving her a deep, aching kiss, completely enthralled by the softness of her lips.

"Alright," he murmured against her mouth. "You'll feel every inch of me."

"Good." She gently got off his lap and undid her pants before sliding them down her legs, her underwear following along while her eyes never looked away from his face. "Now take off all your clothes."

It didn't take long for him to obey her command. She watched as he started unbuckling his belt and—how did he manage to make it look so sensual? His shirt came off after, then his loose slacks were thrown away, then his underwear was next to her pile of clothes on the floor. Then he was stark naked and she found herself irresistibly drawn to the allure of his body.

Her eyes traced the lines of his form with a reverence that borders on worship. From the broad expanse of his shoulders to the defined muscles that rippled beneath his skin, muscles that weren't made from working out, but probably made from his constant work on the field. The touch of her gaze caressed the contours of his soft abdomen before lingering between his legs.

His length laid heavily against his stomach and it took a lot of self-control for her not to drool. He was so thick and heavy, it was a sight that evoked a combination of awe, desire, and a profound appreciation for the beauty that lay before her.

"Y/n?" he asked, tilting his head to the side with an amused smirk. Her eyes immediately raised to his face, realizing she had been ogling without care.

There it was again, his infuriating smirk. As her eyes met him, an urge to wipe away the smug look on his face took over her. It was as if an untamed flame had been ignited within her, urging her to take the lead, to embrace her dominance.

She slowly made her way back to him. Once she threw each leg on either side of his thighs, she wasted no time and took his cock in her hand. She raised her hips as she stroked the tip of him between her slick folds, feeling him catch against her tight entrance as she let out an airy gasp.

A strangled moan escaped his lips. "You're so wet."

She smiled and then slowly lowered herself, and finally—finally—felt his girth stretch her. Her gasp was overthrown by the loud groan that left his lips as he entered her, his forehead falling on her shoulder.

"God, I forgot you feel so good," he growled in her ear.

He couldn't express the sensation with better words, it was as if he was stealing her exact thoughts. Their first night together was somehow a blur to her, but now... The burn of him stretching her felt amazing. She had already felt him inside her before, but she wasn't sure she felt as full as she did now. Her body was taking him so eagerly and with nothing else separating them, he felt so deliciously warm and hard she could practically feel his veins pulsing inside her.

She wanted to savor the moment, so she held onto him and silently sat there on his lap. She clenched her thighs on either side of his hips, trying to keep him still while he was buried deep inside of her, her walls twitching around him. Spencer's large calloused palms stroked along her exposed back and down towards her ass as goosebumps began to appear on her skin. Evidentially bored from the lack of movement, he tried to move her body, which she simply smiled in return.

"Stop doing that," she whispered and relaxed into his touch, nuzzling against his collarbone as she pressed chaste kisses along his chest.

"You're... not moving."

"You have to be patient."

A moan was caught up in his throat as her lips sent shivers all around his body. "You're such a tease."

"And you shouldn't have started being so cocky." She leaned into his ear, fingers running up the span of his chest. "Do you want me to move?" He desperately nodded as a wicked grin formed on her lips. "Then beg for it."

She felt him throbbing inside her, a heavy breath escaping from his chest. His hands hesitantly gripped onto her hips, unsure of himself. "Pl–please."

"Please what?"

"Please, move your hips," he pleaded, his voice taut in his throat, his muscles involuntarily contracting beneath her.

"Well, since you asked so nicely."

She then planted her knees on the cushions on either side of him and started to ride him in earnest, watching in awe as his mouth fell open and he truly wailed out his pleasure. He had never been quiet during their intimate moments, but this was loud, even for him. She was immersed in the symphony of his voice, an intoxicating melody that stirred her own desires and ignited a fire within.

And so she moved at a more rapid pace and another moan escaped his lips, followed by a soft whimper. His voice, unapologetically loud, became a source of empowerment and validation. Every passionate utterance reminded her that she was the catalyst of his pleasure. She found herself intoxicated by the knowledge that she had the power to elicit such a fervent response from him, to bring him to the brink of ecstasy and beyond.

Spencer's mind was numb, the tiredness he felt earlier seeped away from his body, replaced by a desperate need. It felt so good to be buried so deep inside her as he watched her bounce up and down so effortlessly. She was so warm, so soft... it was too much for him to bear. His eyes drew heavy as he watched, slack-jawed, hypnotized by her hips, helplessly lost in her rhythm as his hips rutted upward gently to meet hers at every fall.

"I can't—" Spencer growled as she suddenly reached up her body to squeeze her breasts while moving on top of him, the sight making him tremble. He watched as she pinched and tugged at her nipples while her hips jolted at a steady rhythm. Her name fell from his lips softly, barely above a whisper.

A coy smile stretched along her mouth. "What's wrong, Spencer?"

"S-stop." He stammered, trying to collect himself as he tried to ignore the throb between his legs. "I won't be able to last long if y-you—"

She grabbed onto his shoulders at his words and quickened her pace. "I'm not slowing down. You're close, aren't you?"

He nodded helplessly.

"Then come for me."

He leaned back and looked into her eyes. "B-But you haven't—"

"I said," she demanded, bouncing along his cock. "Come for me."

He was barely holding on. It wasn't that he didn't want to reach his high, just not like this nor this quick, but it seemed she had other plans for him and she was relishing in the power it gave her. She gently wrapped her fingers around his throat, watching his reaction.

His eyes widened with a mix of surprise and desire as the rhythm of their bodies heightened. She watched as he surrendered willingly to her every whim, his own desire mirrored in his eyes. Then her grip tightened and her touch was no longer gentle and yielding. He marveled at her newfound confidence, her eyes ablaze with a commanding presence that left him both awestruck and surrendered.

Her voice, once soft and submissive, now dripped with confidence and dominance. "I know you want to," she whispered, her lips grazing along his mouth. "Be a good boy and come for me."

He whimpered at her words but she could still feel him hanging onto the last thread of self-control that he had. She gripped his throat tighter and leaned into his ear.

"If you won't come, then I'll make you," she whispered, rolling his earlobe between her teeth gently before she intentionally squeezed her inner walls around him, strangling his cock in a vice grip as she rode him with renewed vigor.

It was enough for him to let go, his teeth latching onto the curve of her neck as he let out a crude hiss, a pleasurable moan coursing through him as he frantically jutted his narrow hips up to meet her brutal thrusts. She finally let go of her grip and cradled his head against her chest while she continued to bounce on his lap. Her legs were starting to ache with the strain, but she hardly felt it over the rush.

Moments after his body seized, his body lurched and shook with every spurt, a hoarse cry forced from his throat with each spasm. She willed her hips to slow to a lazy grind, ignoring the way her body screamed at her for it. But the sensation to reach her own pleasure was consuming her and she began to roll her hips, trying to focus on the sensation of his cock hitting the same spot each time.

Then she gasped, catching her off guard when she felt him thrusting his hips up into her, he was flinching from his release but seemed so desperate to please. "Let me do it, I want to feel you come."

She melted instantly, peppering grateful kisses all over his face. Then he slid in and out of her with ease, his release making it wet and slippery, in the best way.

"Spence," she gasped in surprise as each thrust had his cock dragging against her inner walls perfectly, her mouth open in a constant moan as she bounced on his lap. "Oh, my god. Yes, yes, yes."

Maybe this was why he liked having her on top of him so much. He marveled at the intricate dance of limbs and the exquisite weight of her form against his own. Her presence, so close yet so tenderly apart, sent a rush of sensations cascading through him. From his vantage point, he could admire the grace of her profile, the gentle sweep of her hair cascading over her shoulder, the delicate curve of her neck inviting the soft brush of his lips.

And as his eyes traveled down her body, he could see their bodies intertwining into one. He watched as he moved into her, leaving rings of her slickness and the evidence of his own release around the base of his cock. The crude sound of her slick walls squelching around him rang in his ears, and he continued thrusting his hips against the same spot inside her, focusing his movements as he worked her toward her release.

She could feel the familiar sensation in her stomach and she found herself clutching onto him tighter, her nose scrunching as she felt herself on the cusp of her climax. "Faster, Spence."

His movements became unrelenting, each thrust had him hitting that sweet spot and soon there was nothing she could do but let out a loud cry, her chest heaving as she tried to focus on the pleasure that was slowly taking over her rational thoughts, the coil inside her desperately close to breaking.

"Fuck," She gasped, her hands reaching over to hold his shoulders, nails leaving red lines in their wake as she felt herself teetering on the edge of her bliss. "I-I'm gonna—"

Then a loud moan ripped from her lungs as she felt her climax surge through her, her body trembling as he continued his harsh pace, hips clapping loud and furious into her. Then he pressed his lips onto hers, swallowing all her pleasant screams as he held onto her. His forceful thrust and sudden control over her had her sob against his mouth, thighs trembling on either side of his thighs. Her eyes rolled behind her closed lids, making a mess over his hips with how much liquid surged from her body.

She squirmed with a whimper when his hand swept over her back with a pleased, low rumble, his nose and parted lips nuzzling over her neck as she eased down her high. Rhythmic, vibrating purrs ran through him and lured her into relaxation as she panted and threw all of her weight on top of him.

Spencer felt her body relaxing and pulled her close as his thoughts suddenly swirled in a whirlwind of emotions. It was not long ago since the day he met her, yet he found himself inexplicably drawn to her, his heart entangled in a web of enchantment.

He questioned the depth of his emotions. How could such intensity blossom from a single night, into another intense night? It was as if the universe conspired to bring them together again, even if only for a fleeting moment. 

And now he couldn't deny the surge of longing that coursed through his veins, the ache to delve deeper into her world. Thus, he found himself asking, "Stay here for the night."

Her breathing seemed to hitch at his words, her mind going into bewilderment. But then her heart softened as she melted further into his arms. 

Was it foolish to yearn for something more, to desire a continuation of the connection they had forged? It probably was, considering the circumstances they had met. But she couldn't help it. It was just one night, right? She could let herself linger on this bliss for one night. Nothing less, nothing more. So she nodded, giving him her answer. 

"Okay." Then she shifted across his lap and winced at the mess sticking between her legs. "I think I need a shower."

"Yeah," he noted. "We should probably wash ourselves."

She pulled away and gazed into his eyes with a small smile. "Was that an invitation?"

He thought for a while, examining every detail of her face. "Maybe."

Y/n wasn't sure how it happened but he somehow managed to stand himself up with her in his embrace. She wrapped her arms clumsily around his neck for support, gasping at his impulse gesture, her feet dangling on either side of him as she squealed.

"At least give me a warning!"

He grinned as he walked over to the bathroom with her clinging to him as if she weighed nothing.

And at that moment, she felt conflicted, not because he was inviting her to wash off their bodies together, but because truthfully, she wanted it as much as he did. It was the way how laughing with him after something so intense seemed surprisingly natural. It was also the way her mind kept on reminding her of what they did, what they were about to do, and what she was currently feeling, and the latter she had no clue of answering.

Whatever. She would think of it later, she was going to have this moment for one night. For now, she was going to scrub away the smell of sex in the proximity of the man she couldn't keep her hands off, pulling him closer as he finally steadied her back to her feet—kissing him once again underneath the warm spray of water.

She would think of the consequences tomorrow.

>> NEXT PART

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And don’t forget to interact with the story!

[djevelbl]

Same train of thought, slightly different track — if I made a list of all my fictional crushes (criteria for WHAT makes a blorbo a fictional crush yet to be determined. probably whether or not I read x readers of the guy) there'd be certain trends happening that I'd laugh about just to not have a visit with my therapist--

GOD the things I'd do to make certain characters real so I had a shot at dating them,,,,

[pixelsandpins]

Let's say you see the new Venom movie this weekend. Then you want to read the comics. Reading guides can be very overwhelming. So as a Venomaniac, let me give a broader approach discussing main storylines, what's worth your time, and where I think you should/could start.

80s-90s: Origin, First Villain Run, Transition to Hero

The Alien Suit Saga begins in Amazing Spider-Man #252 (1984) after Peter finds the goo in Secret Wars #8. Then more specific Eddie/Venom shenanigans start in 298-300. Venom's whole origin story can be found in a trade paperback (aka a TPB) called Spiderman: Birth of Venom which also includes issues from other series to fill out the story. Venom continues to be a villain in Spider-Man for awhile, so most of his story up through 1993 is found across Amazing Spider-Man and Web of Spider-Man. There're couple of collections that cover parts of this, but the most complete is Spider-Man Vs Venom. From this era you can also get the trade paperback called Carnage: Born in Blood which covers the arrival and birth of Carnage. A more in depth reading guide will give you these individual issues, and you can find them all in Marvel Unlimited or other online source.

(I'm having a hard time finding what I feel is the optimal link, but these have the information, at least).

Birth of Venom individual issues.

Birth of Carnage individual issues.

These are all very 80s and 90s comics, however, so they require a little bit of fortitude if you've never read comics before. This theme will continue up through Venom's solo work through the 90s.

Venom's solo stuff begins with Venom: Lethal Protector in 1993 (available as a TPB). This is the arc where Eddie moves from villain to hero. It also introduces the first symbiote spawn and a few other major lore elements.

Up through the rest of the decade there are A LOT of 3-4 issue mini-runs starting with Venom: Funeral Pyre. You can knock each of them out in an evening, and they provide some details about character and story. You absolutely don't have to read most. There are some key ones, though, where the lore carries through:

Venom: The Madness brings value not in lore, but in narrative. It shows the way Eddie and the other physiologically affect each other. It's also just really good.

Venom: Separation Anxiety separates Eddie and the symbiote, exploring the changes in their relationship and deals with more spawn. This one is a major influence on the first movie.

Carnage: Unleashed gives more development to Carnage and sets a story beat up for later.

Go back to Spider-Man for Planet of the Symbiotes. This expands on symbiote lore and is a key element of Eddie and the others relationship. You can read it as individual issues or as a TPB. This one has a major influence on Venom 1 and 3.

Venom: Sinner Takes All introduces She-Venom, traumatizes Anne, and sets some later lore hooks for story.

Venom: The Hunger expands on the brain eating/addiction and introduces the chocolate substitute. They also hold hands at the movies, and I think that's super important, personally.

Venom: Seed of Darkness is one of the lesser priority ones but does provide some interesting Eddie backstory.

Spider-Man: The Venom Agenda sets up some new story and lore beats for the Venom/Spider-Man relationship.

Venom: Finale the symbiote temporarily dies, and it sets up narrative for future comics.

If you've never read comics before, this whole era might be a difficult starting place. Mostly because the ethos of comics have changed, and it can be harder to connect with material from the 80s and 90s. It's not bad, it's just different. It's kind of essential narrative and lore establishment, however. So either accept the challenge or come back to it later and accept you'll have gaps in the lore. If you've read pre-2000s comics before, you'll be fine. Read from the beginning. It's a riot.

Venomnibus 1 and 2 covers this era. The first bout of Epic Collections also end here.

1999-2010

There's a bit of a tricky transition here over the change in millennia as Venom goes back to being a villain for a bit, joining the Sinister Six. Because of this most of the story moves back to Spider-Man. The problem is: there's major story shit introduced, and there isn't a collected edition that covers this era properly. You'll require a reading guide or accept the lore gap.

Peter Parker: Spider-Man #9-10 covers the return of the symbiote to Eddie.

Amazing Spider-Man #19 features the death of Anne Weying, Eddie's ex-wife and, at one time, temporary host.

In 2003 they start expanding the Venom story again, in earnest, but he's still an antagonist. The first solo run here is Venom Vol 1 by Daniel Way. This is collected into 4-5 trades, also appears in Venomnibus 3, and consists of 4 arcs. This one never got narratively resolved, but Wolverine is there. So that's something. This is probably the most skippable of the "big series" however you could use this as a starting place. It's early enough that you won't be missing the second phase of lore, and it's a more "modern" story. However, it's not the strongest of the runs, so it might set the wrong expectations.

Spectacular Spider-Man: The Hunger adds an element of maliciousness to Venom's motivations. It's moderately essential narrative but very divisive.

Venom/Carnage is pretty good, introduces Toxin, and transitions us into the next narrative beat.

The Symbiote and Eddie Part Company, Scorpion!Venom Begins

Here is where Venom becomes a proper villain again, only...he's a protagonist? A PROTAGONIST VILLAIN, YOU SAY?

Marvel Knights: Spider-Man #5-12 are often left off reading guides, but they transition the symbiote from Eddie to Angelo Fortunato to Mac Gargan.

Gargan, as Venom, then joins the Thunderbolts for a while. This is in Thunderbolts #110-127 and continues in Dark Avengers

Dark Reign: Sinister Spider-Man is the story of Mac Gargan fuckin' around as Venom/Dark Spider-Man.

I'm of the opinion you can pretty much skip the entire Gargan era, and you won't lose much going forward. But it's also...kind of a fun read? And it does expand on what the influence the symbiote has on their host looks like.

Venomnibus 3 also collects much of this, but not all. Marvel Knights, Thunderbolts, Dark Avengers, and Dark Reign are all available as TPS/Omnis

Also skip Venom: Dark Origin, for now. It sort of rewrites Eddie in a way that didn't really stick going forward.

Right at the end here, Carnage gets a few more series and Eddie as Anti-Venom is first introduced in Spider-Man. Anti-Venom barely shows up, at first, but he persists going forward. There's no dedicated collection to the era, but the primary comics are collected in Spider-Man: New Ways to Die, and Anti-Venom: New Ways to Live.

2010->today

Flash Thompson/Agent Venom Begins

Here, the government strips the other from Mac and gives it to military vet Flash Thompson

If you start here you're coming in right at the start of the next major phase of lore for Venom that covers all the Cool Space Shit. It's a fan favorite and an objectively well-written run, but it's also thematically and narratively a bit of a turn from all the others. It will also be a really really long time before you see Eddie as Venom. So just keep that in mind going forward.

After a bit of Spider-Man prologue, this kicks off properly in 2011 with Venom Vol 2 by Remender and Bunn. The Spider Island crossover as part of this run goes in tandem with Amazing Spider-Man. You can use a guide to sort these issues or get the TPB or Epic Collection that covers them.

Right in the middle of Venom Vol 2, Flash joins the Secret Avengers in issue #23. This is the sort of "official" intro of the Agent Venom iteration specifically. You'll also see this era tie in to the Minimum Carnage crossover. It's an okay read, but doesn't leave a lot of lasting impact on the story. You can skip it, for now.

Agent Venom also joins the Thunderbolts from issue #1-23 (Way and Soule). This is skippable.

Superior Spider-Man #22-25 is the pretty darn Superior Venom story and coves the gap between the end of the Agent Venom run and the beginning of the upcoming space-based stories. It's an an odd comic, though, in that very quickly changes the shape of Flash's relationship with the symbiote, but that relationship holds going forward.

Flash Goes to Space

His story continues in the Guardians of the Galaxy run from 2014, joining in issue #14. The most important part of his tenure with Guardians, however is issue #21-23. This is where we see the symbiote/Klyntar homeworld.

He rejoins the Guardians for 20 issues in the next run starting in 2015, but it's skippable.

These are both available as their own omnis or TPB collections.

Venom: Space Knight is sick as fuck and my favorite with Flash. A lot of good, juicy alien lore.

Eddie Becomes Venom, Again

Before Eddie goes back to his boyfriend, he spends some time as Toxin. The bulk of this is covered in the 2015 Carnage run by Conway.

Venom Vol 3 by Costa begins in 2016, and we see the transition from Flash to Lee Price briefly then finally back to Eddie. This is my personal favorite major run. It currently comes in 4 TPB. Starting here gives you street level Venom again but does drop you deep shit into the lore. You can one-hundred percent start here, though, extremely easily because they treat it as a soft reboot.

Within this run you'll see crossovers for Venom Inc. and Poison X. These expand on the overall story by introducing Mania and the Poisons, the latter of which are lead-ins for the first Venomverse comics. You can skip the Venomverse storylines, for now, but they are a lot of fun.

First Host is a really great mini-run in 2018 that talks about the true first host of the symbiote and introduces Sleeper. It's available as a TPB.

The Cates run (vol 4) (also has Bunn on it) begins in 2018, and it's very very good. It's where the character of Knull comes from, as featured in the new movie. A lot of people start here and have a good time. The way it's narratively constructed, it's beginner friendly, but you're sort of coming in at the end of Eddie's arc.

This also involves the Absolute Carnage and King in Black crossover events which are collected in a TPB/Omni.

This is also all collected in the recent Cates and Stegman Venomnibus.

The current Ewing run (vol 5) ends in November (cries), but you CANNOT START HERE. Without the previous Cates run, at minimum, the current run is missing vital story and lore information. You will be so lost, at first, that it simply won't be fun.

You'll note I've skipped a number of side runs including a few Carnage runs and Toxin. Slot them in if you want additional lore and story, but you can get by without them if it all becomes too much.

The lore drops that appear in Spider-Man in between solo runs might seize you up for a moment, but when necessary, the solo comics will catch you up as needed.

The past five years have also seen a handful of retro-runs that go back in time to tell stories from Eddie's early time with Venom. You could slot them in with the other 90s mini-runs, but I think they're more fun after you've been reading for awhile.

A new run is starting in December called All New Venom where Eddie will no longer be the host. Who will? We don't know! The way it's being advertised, I'm going to make a guess it ends up being a passable starting point for new readers. I'll know when I get my issue #1.

[deskraven]

Chaos Terrans, Chaos Energy, Terratronus, Starscream

Read time: 5 minutes

TLDR: Starscream ordered the Chaos Terrans to stab each other with the Cyber Slayer to charge it; The Chaos Terrans cared about each other genuinely; I wish Starscream studied Mandroid corpse.

ID: A clip from Earthspark S2E09. After Hashtag and Mo discover the Witwicky underground tunnels form a humanoid shape, we see Aftermath and Spitfire attempting to enter the tunnels with the Cyber Slayer at the entrance where the cave water was first discovered in S1E07. Aftermath unleashes a massive chaos energy blast through the weapon, shaking the chamber the Maltos sisters are in but having no effect outside. Spitfire takes the weapon, taunting, "My turn already - and you have to it with STYLE!" She spins the weapon coolly, only to release a tiny streak of energy. Aftermath teases, "Some STYLE you got there, Spitfire… or should I call you, Nofire?" Spitfire retorts, "Ha-ha-ha, and I thought you were just funny looking." Possibly misreading her mockery as praising, Aftermath proudly declares, "Aftermath is the complete package," before launching into a random battle cry. "I don't think you -" Spitfire's confused look changes into resignation. "You know what? Never mind." She lifts up the weapon and points it at her brother, "Just hold still while I recharge this - what's it called again?" "CYBER SLAYER," Aftermath reminds her, leaning down. "Wicked cool name for a weapon if you ask - Aaargh!" His words are cut off as Spitfire taps him sharply on the head with the weapon. He stumbles back, clutching his head as his embershard dims, emitting garbled sounds. Spitfire tosses him a bottle of cave water. After a long gulp, his embershard lights up again. Wiping his mouth, he smiles, "That does NOT get any easier, but what a rush!" Seeing the weapon charged with Aftermath's own energy, Spitfire grins, "Yeh? The next time we will trade." This time, she manages to unleash a powerful blast into the cave walls, causing rocks to fall around the Malto sisters but still no external effect. Frustrated, she asks, "Any doors open up yet?" "Ha! That's what we are doing here, sister?" Aftermath shrugs. "I stopped listening after Starscream said - " Switching to a more high-pitched voice, he imitates, "Take the cyber slayer - urrhhh". "Well, apparently, this thing's supposed to get us inside the - " Spitfire says as she continues to stab the cave walls, unleashing loads of energy. "Where?" Aftermath asks. "Yeh, Starscream left that part out." Spitfires stops, contemplating. "But he did say it will help with his BIG PLAN for taking out the Maltos and the Autobots." She seems to be convinced by the reasoning, and returns to her job at hand with an even stronger blow. This time, the wall shatters and starts glowing in red - the color of the chaos energy. Cybertronian letters appears on the wall with Quintus' symbol, "IN TIMES OF NEED HELP SHALL RISE TO YOUR CALL". Marveled, both Chaos Terrans paused, though they likely can't read it, and Spitfire soon resumed her stabbing.

Thought 1: Wow this is quite messed up!

I'm probably just slow, but on first watch I assumed the Chaos Terrans were able to channel chaos energy through the Cyber Slayer naturally, and thought Spitfire hit Aftermath with the weapon as a part of their mutual bickering. I only just realized they were taking turns stabbing each other with the weapon to keep it charged, and they were ordered to do so by Starscream.

Wow this is pretty messed up! "Hey kids take this weapon and go open a door for me. If the weapon runs out of energy, just draw each other's blood to recharge it. Try not to kill each other in the process and good luck!"

This seems extremely dangerous. The Cyber Slayer is not fatal, but it is fatal if the victim doesn't have access to treatment. And we all know if one of them accidentally goes completely offline, Starscream won't bother to treat them. I wonder if this is part of his plan.

Thought 2: Awww Siblings

The interaction between Aftermath and Spitfire is suddenly more wholesome, too. Spitfire didn't stab him out of malice. She warned him about the charging, gave him a very controlled knock on the head, and immediately tossed him a bottle of cave water.

Despite the contact being short and controlled, Aftermath was immediately sent into severe energy deprivation, falling and whining in pain.

It seems like prior to this Aftermath was the only one taking the blows, as Spitfire suggested "next time we will trade." I have been wondering how much Spitfire cares about her sibling, and it turns out she cares about him enough to volunteer drawing her own blood so he doesn't have to suffer repeatedly. And he didn't even complain about it, possibly because 1) he has one braincell and didn't realize it's unfair, 2) he cares about his tiny little sister and volunteered to take up more responsibility as the large big brother.

So it's... both messed up and awwww siblings. Wish to see them more in S2C / S3B / S4 ^ ^

Theories and Implications

This also gives a clearer definition on how they broke through Terratronus's defense system. Basically they just hit her repeatedly with condensed chaos energy. This might imply that Cyber Slayer enhanced chaos energy is stronger than Quintus power.

I wonder if Starscream would have been able to get himself out of Terratronus if he had access to chaos energy. And, maybe the Decepticons could have been able to escape the Quintus-powered bubble if they had access to the Cyber Slayer.

I'm also curious how Starscream learned he could break Terratronus' defense system with chaos energy. The only other person who's aware of this seems to be Terratronus herself. Starscream also seems to know it even before getting Croft's hard-drive. And it's unlikely that he got the information during GHOST imprisonment - GHOST knew nothing about the Emberstone until Mandroid told them about it in S1E20. Starscream escaped in S1E21, likely during he power outage in S1E20. And Croft didn't retrieve the stone for Mandroid to study until S1E22.

I think the only two possibilities are:

Starscream's science degree thesis was about chaos energy and it was a such niche field that none of the other scientists know anything about it.

Starscream got the information from Mandroid. Either he unearthed some of Mandroid's top-secret research on the Emberstone while helping the Autobots clean up the mess, or he reached this conclusion by studying Mandroid's corpse.

[logansargeantsbabymom]

You Deserve It

Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader

FLUFF

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A Marvelous Surprise

I’d always thought that my life was pretty perfect. I had everything I could ever want: a supportive family, great friends, and a boyfriend who was not only incredibly talented but also genuinely kind. My boyfriend was none other than Oscar Piastri, the Formula 1 driver who had taken the world by storm. But, as I found out one sunny afternoon at the racetrack, sometimes even the perfect life has a few extraordinary surprises.

The day started like any other Grand Prix day. I was in the pit lane, surrounded by the clamor of engines and the frenetic energy of the race day preparations. Oscar had been busy with the team, and I was making my way through the paddock, trying to stay out of the way but still soaking in every moment of the high-octane atmosphere.

I had my usual race day ritual—cheering for Oscar from the best spot I could find and, if I had a moment, catching up on social media. My love for Marvel was well-known among my friends, and they had teased me about it endlessly. Every interview I did where I gushed about my favorite characters—Bucky Barnes, played by Sebastian Stan, and my all-time favorite actor, James McAvoy—was met with knowing smiles and playful jabs.

Oscar had heard it all, of course. He was always so patient with my endless Marvel monologues. I had even been lucky enough to attend a few fan events, where my excitement for superheroes could be fully unleashed. But nothing could have prepared me for what was about to happen.

The race was in full swing, and Oscar was driving brilliantly. I was on the edge of my seat, my eyes locked on the track, when my phone buzzed with a new message. I glanced down to see a text from Oscar: “Meet me at the hospitality suite after the race. I have a surprise for you.”

My heart raced—not from the thrill of the race, but from the anticipation of Oscar’s surprise. The remainder of the race felt like it dragged on forever. When Oscar finally crossed the finish line, victorious as always, I couldn’t wait to see him.

After the post-race celebrations, I headed to the hospitality suite. The area was relatively quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos of the pit lane. I entered the suite, expecting to find Oscar waiting with a small token of his appreciation or perhaps just a sweet gesture to celebrate his win.

What I saw instead took my breath away.

The suite was filled with the unmistakable aura of Marvel’s finest. There, standing among the elegant furniture and decorations, were some of my absolute favorites—Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, Elizabeth Olsen, Scarlett Johansson, Robert Downey Jr., James McAvoy, Evan Peters, and Anthony Mackie. They were chatting amongst themselves, their faces lit with amusement as they turned to see me enter.

My jaw dropped. My eyes darted between them, not quite believing what I was seeing. I stumbled into the room, feeling like I was walking through a dream.

Oscar stepped up beside me, his grin as wide as ever. “Surprise, YN!” he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief and affection. “I know how much you love Marvel and James McAvoy, so I thought I’d arrange a little meet-and-greet.”

I couldn’t form words. I just stared, blinking rapidly. Chris Evans noticed and chuckled. “I think we broke her,” he said, leaning toward the others.

Elizabeth Olsen came over, her smile warm and genuine. “Hi, YN! I’m Elizabeth. We’ve all heard so much about your love for Bucky Barnes. It’s great to finally meet you!”

Sebastian Stan, ever the charming Bucky, approached with a wink. “Hey there. I see you’re a fan of my alter ego. I have to say, it’s always amazing to meet someone who appreciates Bucky like you do.”

James McAvoy was next. My heart skipped a beat as he extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, YN. I’ve heard you’re quite the fan. Your enthusiasm is contagious.”

I shook his hand, barely able to contain my excitement. “James, I can’t believe it’s really you. You’ve been my favorite actor for as long as I can remember.”

Evan Peters and Anthony Mackie joined in, their smiles infectious. “So, YN, what’s it like having Oscar Piastri as your boyfriend?” Evan asked playfully. “Is he as impressive off the track as he is on it?”

I laughed, still trying to get my head around everything. “Oh, absolutely. He’s amazing.”

Scarlett Johansson then stepped forward, her presence commanding. “YN, I’ve heard so much about your passion for the Marvel universe. It’s wonderful to see such enthusiasm.”

We spent the next few hours in a whirlwind of conversation, photo ops, and laughter. I felt like I was floating on a cloud. Oscar watched with a knowing smile, clearly enjoying the joy his surprise had brought me.

I chatted with each of them about their roles, my favorite scenes, and even got some behind-the-scenes stories. Chris Evans regaled me with tales from the set of the Captain America films, while Robert Downey Jr. shared funny anecdotes about his time as Iron Man.

When it was time to say goodbye, I was reluctant to leave. I hugged each of them, my heart full of gratitude and happiness. “Thank you all so much. This has been a dream come true.”

As I walked out with Oscar by my side, I felt like I was walking on air. “You really outdid yourself this time,” I said, leaning into him.

Oscar kissed my forehead. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. You deserve every bit of happiness.”

The ride back to our hotel was quiet, filled with comfortable silence and shared smiles. I knew I’d be reliving every moment of the day in my mind for a long time. The memories would be a cherished part of my life, thanks to Oscar and his incredible surprise.

As I finally settled into bed, I found myself replaying the day’s events. It felt like I was living in a Marvel movie, where everything came together perfectly in the end. I had my superhero dreams come true, and it was all thanks to the love of my life who knew me better than anyone else.

-

Taglist:

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[five-hxrgreeves]

im dYIIIINGGGG with the adam warlock x quill sister! when he calls her 'little quill'??? with that accent of his??? so soft and husky??? im screaming at my phone dude aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i need part iii right freaking now!!!

PAIRING: adam warlock & fem! quill’s sister!reader

POWERS: adapted from D.C.'s Stargirl, although in this instance, the powers are a part of you and the staff just helps you use them.

WC: 1.9k (woo a shorter one this time!) 

SUMMARY: your first meeting with Adam wasn't one that indicated that you'd become friends anytime soon. Your second meeting. . . wasn't great either. But, somewhere along the line, you would develop a soft spot for the curious man-child.

WARNINGS: slight gotg three spoilers, badly written original fight scene, possibly ooc canon!guardians.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: OMG!!! This is my first-ever inbox message- thank you, anon! You made my day with this <3 I love Adam's/Will's accent; I definitely hope that we get to see (and hear) more of him in other Marvel movies. As requested, here's part three (even if it's technically part zero, lol.) I do take requests if anyone wants to send me stuff! (I just won't write smut, sorry!)

I hope you guys enjoy this part, although I'm not very confident about it since I'm terrible at writing fight scenes. It's hard enough for me to imagine original content (like the other two parts) but scenes where people move around a lot without the movie itself to rely on are very difficult for me because my mind doesn't think in pictures, but in words and I don't know how to describe fighting. I'm sorry if this isn't as good as the other parts. 😭

And on a side note, the 'no shit, Captain Sherlock' is another reference to space people messing up Terran lingo :)

Part 1 , Part 2

You were admittedly not in the best mood when you first (officially) met Adam. Peter and Mantis had left only days ago, leaving you to sort out your feelings alone. You were currently in the training room, fueling your sadness into anger at their abandonment. You often used your powers to aid you while you were fighting, but they weren’t much use during everyday life— unless you wanted to fly. Now, however, they were very useful.

Brilliant blasts of golden light shot out from the staff that your hands gripped tightly. While your powers could be used without aid, the staff helped you control them; Ego had made it for you when you’d become old enough to serve as his protector. Although you were disgusted with the weapon’s origins, you couldn’t help but agree that it made your fighting much more effective.

Each of your blasts hit the targets squarely in the middle as you turned deftly to conquer the row. A scowl was prominent on your face as you pictured each of your targets as Peter’s or Mantis’ face. (While you would never really want to hurt them, of course, the sting of their desertion fueled your thoughts.) You were listening to a playlist by the Rage Against the Machine— which you had chosen solely because of the band’s name as it mirrored your feelings. The music that was blasting in your ears was so loud that, if someone had been standing next to you, they could have heard the lyrics as if they were wearing your headphones themselves.

As you moved up and down the line of targets, you were unaware of the audience of three that had entered the room. Groot, Rocket and Adam stopped by the entrance to watch you unleash your fury against whatever enemy you were envisioning. The new leader of the Guardians gestured to you. “There. See? I told you she’s nice.”

Adam hesitated, clearly uncertain. “She looks mad.”

“I am Groot,” Groot agreed.

“Shut up,” Rocket retorted, glaring slightly at the tree who was supposed to be helping his case. “She won’t hurt goldie. You’ve already seen her bad side, haven’t you? This is nuthin’.”

The golden boy had to admit that Rocket was right; he remembered only too well his first encounter with you as you’d jumped in to help your friends fight off his unexpected attack.

--

He’d just defeated the stupid tree-like thing and as it scuttled away like a demented spider, the faint sound of a whistle pierced through the air. An arrow shot out of nowhere, harmlessly bouncing off his skin and only annoying him more than anything else. He looked around sharply, but there didn’t seem to be anyone brave enough to fight him in the vicinity. “Hey! Who threw that?”

He scoffed when there was no answer, stalking towards where he’d last seen his target. But before he could get very far, a force came out of nowhere— this time much stronger than an errant arrow. It knocked him off his feet like a bullet and together they were sent flying through the town, which elicited more cries of fear from the citizens.

He landed harshly against a building that got in the way and debris fell on top of him from the force of the collision. Adam grunted irritably; this was the second time during this fight that his enemy thought that throwing him into a building would be enough to deter his attack— didn’t they ever learn? He stood and shook the dust off his clothes before he strode back out to the street to face this new opponent. Except— it wasn’t the same blue person from before.

The golden boy stared at the other person with disbelief, the only thing that he could come up with was: “you’re a girl!”

She scoffed. “Yeah, no shit, Captain Sherlock.” She twirled the staff in her hands expertly between her fingers before she set the butt down on the ground. It glowed softly as it lit up with her power, her face set. “Let’s do this thing.”

Adam had no qualms about fighting a girl, so they charged at each other without hesitation. He thought she’d be as easy to take down as her teammates but when they collided, she merely used her staff as a shield against his attack. They paced across the open space as they exchanged blows, the girl using her staff offensively and defensively interchangeably. As she flipped neatly out of the way of one of his advances, he began to see how evenly matched they were.

“You are stalling,” he realized. “If you just hand over your friend, we would not have to fight.”

The girl paused, flicking some of her hair out of her eyes. “Oh. Well, in that case—”

She charged at him again, her staff catching on his uniform. She followed him into the air and her swift kick to his stomach sent him tumbling away from her. It was then that he realized that she could fly— just like him— and that was what had powered her initial attack. In the time it took for him to recover from the spin, a blast of golden light was sent his way. Because of his more durable skin, though, the light only felt like volts of electricity rather than something that could do actual damage. The most effective part of her power was the blast itself, which he had to fight through to get closer to her.

Now that he knew where her power came from, he made to attack her staff in order to knock it out of her hands. She seemed to sense his plan— Adam figured most people she fought went this route— and she countered this by trying to fly above him to push him towards the ground. He responded by grabbing the staff in her hands directly while she was mid-swing. The girl was tiring slightly, her breath becoming shorter as the fight went on and she was now on the defensive.

She tried to yank her staff loose from his hold but as evenly matched as they were, he was still stronger. The girl then attempted to shake him off by lighting the staff up with her power. If he hadn’t been such a strong opponent, the golden light would have burned through his hands. As it was, the little volts were barely something that he registered. While he could have easily swung the staff to send her flying off the end and into the ground, he held back the true show of his strength as she didn’t seem to be as resilient as the two blue people or the tree.

Instead, he tried once more for the diplomatic route: “you have fought valiantly for your little friend. If you surrender him to me now I will leave your village in peace.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed with fury as she continued to fight to free her weapon. “Go to hell!”

Adam sighed, having partially expected that response. “Very well. Have it your way, then.”

He smoothly jerked the staff from her grasp and carelessly tossed it to send the weapon spiraling towards the ground. He turned back towards the girl to finish her off as he had her teammates, but he paused. She seemed to hang, suspended, in the air as time appeared to freeze around her. Her eyes widened and, for the first time since he’d encountered her, a look of fear appeared on her face.

Then, she dropped like a stone.

They were very high off the ground by this point and the fall would likely kill a normal being. He wasn’t sure if she would survive, so his reflexes kicked in before he could really think about what he was doing.

By now, the shock had worn off and she fell through the air, she reached up to him as he was the only person who could help her. Adam put on a spurt of speed to try and catch her but she was falling faster than he had anticipated. The girl slammed into the ground and lay still just as he landed next to her. He told himself that saving her wasn’t his mission, and her incapacitation only made obtaining his goal easier. His mother’s orders echoed in his mind, so against his instinct he turned away from her in pursuit of the squirrel.

--

You felt a tap on your shoulder, startling you. You whirled around with your staff in a defensive position only to be met with the sight of your teammates. With a sigh, you pulled out one earbud but didn’t pause your music.

“What?” you asked shortly.

“Don’t you take that tone with me, Little Quill. I’m ya superior now,” Rocket replied, unaffected by your attitude. “I wanted you to meet golden boy here.”

You gave Adam a once-over, ignoring how the sight of his. . . attractive features made your stomach curl pleasantly. “Yeah. We’ve met.”

The boy in question shifted uncomfortably, feeling once again ashamed of his previous actions. Before he could say anything, Rocket spoke again, adjusting the straps of his jumpsuit as he did so: “well, I ain’t great with humie ages, but I figured ya’d be about the same. I thought it might boost team morale to see ya two hangin’ out together or whatever humies your age do.”

While your first response was to dismiss the whole endeavor— you didn’t want to get close to someone else just to have them leave you, too— but a small, traitorous part of your mind whispered: he saved your brother. Another part chimed in: he’s not bad to look at.

“Fine,” you grumbled. “He can stay, but he better not get in my way. I’m not stopping my training because of him.”

“That’s the spirit, Little Quill,” your captain said, choosing to not acknowledge your reluctance. “I’ll leave ‘im in your hands. Let’s go, Groot.”

As you shoved the earbud back in your ear, you could faintly hear Adam’s protest: “wait! You’re not leaving me here, are you?”

While Rocket’s reply was drowned out by your music, the boy’s words hit you unexpectedly; it sounded just like your response to Peter’s and Mantis’ disinclination to stay with the Guardians. Some of your anger faded as you glanced at the boy who stood awkwardly in your periphery. Despite all of his strength and power, Adam looked a bit like a lost puppy and his expression made your features soften against your will. Fine. Whatever. It wouldn’t kill you to be nice.

You took out an earbud again. “Well, don’t just stand there. I know you can fight, so let’s see you use those skills.”

At the reminder of your first encounter, he sent you a guilty look. As he stepped up next to you, he said quietly, “I’m sorry about that, by the way. For almost killing you.”

You patted him on the arm companionably. “Hey, no hard feelings. You’re not the first and you certainly won’t be the last, so just add your name to the list.”

All of the Guardians had forgiven him with surprising readiness and it seemed like you were no different— only, you were. His gaze stayed on the spot where your hand had touched him. There was a lingering warmth as if your hand was still there, the sensation sending tingles (not unlike the ones that he felt during your blasts of power) through him.

Taglist:

@repostingmyfavs , @trashpenguin

[rainbowmoonstonestories]

A Bounty As Boundless As The Sea | Chapter 1

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: One Piece (Liveaction 2023) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dracule Mihawk x F!Reader Characters: Dracule Mihawk, Original Characters, Akagami no Shanks, Roronoa Zoro , Perona. Warnings: Mention of blood and physical torture, violence, 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching. Summary: Constantly evading capture due to a bounty on your head, you were forced to embrace the life of a pirate, despite your initial desire for a thrilling adventure and a simple exploration of the world. One fateful day, the Marines dispatched Dracule Mihawk to hunt you down, plunging you into a game of hide and seek with the formidable Warlord of the sea throughout the East Blue. However, to your surprise, the man proved to be less bloodthirsty and hostile than you had anticipated. His piercing, hawk-like eyes, shimmering with a deep golden hue, left an indelible impression on your mind, while his apathetic yet self-assured demeanor ignited a newfound sense of intrigue within you.

Note: This story will eventually include bits from the Anime, so you should expect some Spoilers if you haven't watched it. However, everything written here is purely based on the liveaction adaptation.

Please consider that Mihawk is 41 when he first appears in One Piece, which means that the Reader is supposed to be in her thirties at best, even if the age isn't mentioned.

Credits: The divider was made by firefly-graphics.

Read on AO3.

CHAPTER 1

The day you headed out to sea from your place of origin, you didn't anticipate the course of your life to take a turn for the worse. Of course, in a world infested by piracy, riots, and wars, you were conscious of the potential perils that lurked in the horizon. However, you did not foresee that you would end up with a bounty on your head for taking the life of a Marine Admiral, who had put you through numerous days of torment and barbarism.

If anyone had conveyed to you about a similar possibilty, you would have deemed it to be a matter beyond your wildest imagination. You? A wanted criminal with the blood of another person on your hands? You were renowned for your compassion in your hometown. You could never harm a fly, no matter how hard you tried. And yet, the time you spent incarcerated for a minor food theft in the East Blue brought forth a substantial change in the person you used to be.

You had no desire of becoming a pirate, least of all taking someone's life the way you did. The legendary treasure, the One Piece, didn't entice you in the slightest, as it could very well be a falsehood concocted to unleash disorder on the world. You were seeking nothing but an outing, a break from the monotonous cycle that had exhausted you for quite a long time. You yearned to be on an adventure, to observe the marvels of the ocean, and to gain your financial stability through ethical methods.

You were once the pride of your family, and the thought of how profoundly disappointed they must have felt for your sullied repute overflowed you with mortification.

For a while, everything was as normal as it could be. You worked from one tavern to another, gathering information about the most formidable pirates setting their sights on the Grand Line. You heard several tales from inhabitants and wayfarers, even from the Marines themselves. You were thoroughly pleased with the experience and the wisdom you were acquiring for your own good during your travels.

Unfortunately, things started to deteriorate when your ship developed a massive leak, to the point where you barely managed to reach the next harbor before capsizing and sinking down. The funds available to you weren’t nearly enough to buy a new one, and thus you had to depend on occasional fishermen or merchants for transportation, still paying them handsomely for their help.

On a day when misfortune struck, you were robbed of all your Berries and supplies due to your naivety. You were unable to report the incident to the authorities as the culprits fled as soon as you set foot on land, leaving you without a single coin in your pockets and no food to sustain you during your wanderings. Without money, you could no longer afford passage by ship or meals at local taverns. You were obliged to begin from the outset, tracking down employment opportunities that seemed increasingly difficult to come by.

And then the harassment began, with unscrupulous dealers or pirates demanding a certain type of payment in exchange for their services, which you naturally rejected. As time passed, you had to resort to adopting a defensive stance the hard way, procuring blades and handguns via questionable channels.

You were tired, demoralized, and desperately hungry. Your suffering clouded your judgment, pushing you towards a path you never thought you would accept as your only option.

And then, you had the not-so-brilliant idea of stealing a piece of bread from a market, thinking that just one time wouldn't really be the end of the world. Little did you know, you were about to seal your own fate, as the Marines happened to walk by just as you committed the act, completely unaware of their presence.

You begged for your freedom, spelling out justifications in the hope that they would provide you with the considerate treatment that innocent citizens were supposed to receive. You were gravely mistaken.

The discovery of two sharp daggers and a fully loaded pistol in your backpack certainly did not aid your predicament. Despite numerous attempts to convince them that you were not a pirate, they refused to listen to your reasoning and brought you directly to the Marine base, where a cold cell awaited your arrival.

They left you there without food and barely any water for three days, until the Admiral in charge finally decided to acknowledge your presence. You had hoped that they would recognize their grave misinterpretation and offer you the justice you were due, but you were astonished to find that the conditions of the enstablishment were just as oppressive as the enclosure of your prison.

The commander wished to gain knowledge pertaining to certain fugitive pirates, whose heads were carrying substantial rewards for their crimes against the Government. In view of this, the man put forth an offer that he reckoned would be difficult for you to refuse; join forces with him in return for your liberty.

The hitch was that, besides knowing their names, you were not well-informed concerning these outlaws. The Admiral was convinced that you were withholding more than you wanted to disclose, referring to you as a member of those despicable parasites. The Marines didn’t even put in the effort to corroborate your innocence prior to deeming you officially guilty, using their prestige as a weapon and exerting power over those who were vulnerable.

Ultimately, after realizing you were unwilling to cooperate, the Admiral employed brute force in a bid to extract any secret you were keeping to yourself. In the confines of your cell, you were left to starve and decay as your body continued to weaken. The man would make daily visits, sadistically using his blade to inflict deep wounds on your back, your shirt being ripped in the process. One slit progressed to two, then three, and then ten, until you were unable to keep track of the number. The persistent agony was compounded by the dripping blood, which formed a revolting pool on the floor and stained your uncomfortable bed.

He was a sadist, twisted by madness, using your body as his canvas.

On the brink of abandoning all your hope and acquiescing into rotting in that prison, a guard entered to release you, apprising you that the Admiral had a final proposal ready for you. By then, you had already lost a considerable amount of weight, and you could barely remain standing on your enfeebled legs. The oldest scars on your back itched as they recovered, though the fresh ones were still moist and soaked with blood.

You were forcefully shoved into the office as the guard closed the door behind you, leaving you on your knees, alone with your jailer. Once again, the Admiral attempted to coerce you with promises of salvation, threatening a proper execution the following day if you didn't comply.

It was evident that he had grown tired of toying with you. The Admiral's obsession with pirates seemed to be a severe mental illness, as he saw evil lurking in every corner, when in reality, he was the only monster in front of you.

The moment he turned his back to you and placed his arms across his torso while looking at the window, you became aware of an opening directly upon his desk. There was an empty plate sitting there, with a fork and knife neatly arranged upon it.

A knife, sharp enough to effortlessly cut through a thick steak.

Your heart pounded loudly in your ears as you swallowed hard. Time was of the essence and you needed to act swiftly, without any hesitation whatsoever. Summoning every ounce of energy left in your frail body, you stood up from the polished floor, careful to make minimal noise with your tattered boots. Advancing at a steady pace and with a calculated gait, you went up to the large table, your eyes fixed on the back of the Admiral's head.

Ignoring his eccentric speech, you stealthily grasped the knife by its handle, slowly leading it away from the dish and carefully concealing it inside the sleeve of the meager garment you were still wearing.

You could barely take a couple of steps back before he turned to face you once more, a malicious grin spreading across his lips. He taunted you, expressing his pity for your miserable state and remarking how much fun the two of you could have if only you were smart enough to choose his side.

He walked past the table, extending his big hand to touch your shoulder. You acted on pure instinct as the hunger, resentment, pain, and fear that had consumed you for the longest days of your life surged to the surface all at once. You let the knife slip from your sleeve, tightly gripping it in your hand before delivering a quick and effective stab to his neck, slicing it open.

For a brief moment, you felt nothing. With cold, deadpan eyes, you stared at him as he gurgled and collapsed to the floor. It was only when you saw the blood pouring forth around him that you abruptly snapped back to reality, realizing the gravity of what you had just done.

Panic surged through you when you heard the guard knocking at the door, and from there, everything happened in a blur of rapid movements. As the knob turned, you ran to hide behind the door, seizing the opportunity to slip away when the guard discovered the Admiral's lifeless body in the room. In a rush of agitation, you escaped through the halls and stumbled upon a Marine uniform that was slightly oversized. Fright filled your heart as the shrieking alarm carried on blaring through the base, until at last you managed to end up outside as a disguised cadet.

You discovered an unattended boat moored at the port, which you promptly took control of. Embarking on a journey to an unknown destination, you discarded the stolen uniform in the middle of the ocean, allowing yourself to finally collapse and rest.

The more you pondered on it, the less determined you felt to adhere to the regulations. You believed that the laws and policies of the world were established to serve a better code, but those who worked for the government, meant to become an example to admire and strive to imitate, turned out to be even more despicable than the scum they vilified.

Whenever your scars itched, or someone asked about them to satiate their curiosity, you were reminded of the little trust you could bestow on anyone in your proximity. In the event that even a senior official had the power to pronounce fatal verdicts and physically torment a civilian without carrying out an adequate examination, to whom could you turn for protection?

Ultimately, you realized that the most logical option available for you was to return to your hometown. But then, as you began preparing to leave your life at sea, a wanted poster bearing an image of your disraught face was displayed on the walls.

In that moment, you felt as if you had been shattered into a thousand pieces. You were now persecuted like any other pirate the Marines wanted to capture, and you could no longer travel to your island for the sake of your family and friends. You were alone, lost, on the run from the authorities and bounty hunters.

If they were going to treat you like a pirate, then you would just become one. And so you learned, fought, stole, cheated, and fled, over and over again. As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, you found yourself living in a way that would prevent you from falling and drowning, training extensively and gaining muscle. You became adept at disguising yourself on the spot, and acquired a set of skills that you never imagined would be fitting for your old, innocent self.

All you could do was endure and survive.

Between your shady deals and overheard conversations, you learned about a certain Warlord of the Sea, and none other than the strongest swordman in the world. A man whom you, with your existing notoriety, should have never dared to cross paths with.

And yet, you did.

Dracule Mihawk, once a dangerous pirate known as the Marine Hunter, had now formed an alliance with the World Government, allowing him to carry out his questionable deeds while putting on a facade of indifference. The first time you laid eyes on him, you were casually strolling down a bustling street. He leaned against a stack of wooden crates, seemingly at ease as he carefully surveyed his surroundings.

You could only identify him based on an outdated, revoked bounty poster that could still be spotted here and there on walls or scattered in the streets. However, at the outset, you didn’t know that he was specifically targeting you of all people.

It became increasingly clear to you that he had been dispatched by the Marines to pursue you relentlessly, as you began to notice his presence wherever you went. You couldn't comprehend how he managed to track your every move, as you were confident that no one was tailing you. Yet, he displayed the stealthiness of a bird of prey, meticulously observing your actions before launching his ultimate assault. You couldn't help but feel intimidated, especially in the presence of his colossal sword and menacing yellow hawk-like eyes, albeit beautiful and captivating.

He didn't even pay you any evident attention until you met his gaze by chance, sparking an electric and unsettling connection between the two of you. Despite his detachment, showing little interest in his surroundings, you couldn't help but notice that the more you tried to hide, the closer he seemed to lurk nearby.

One day, as you hastened your pace, you arrived at a bustling village market, with Mihawk still trailing a few steps behind. You quickly veered towards a clothing stall, feigning fascination in the assortment of hats and dresses on display. The merchant, a friendly middle-aged man with long hair and a sumptuous beard, warmly urged you to explore more of his wares in the privacy of a fitting booth.

In order to alter your appearance, you donned a voluminous, frilly red dress that gracefully swept the floor, effectively hiding your outfit underneath. To further conceal yourself, you completed the look with a matching hat that kept your hair securely tucked away.

As Mihawk strolled by the stall, you caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror before you. Maintaining your composure, you intentionally raised the pitch of your voice, exclaiming with exaggerated enthusiasm about the vibrant colors and exquisite materials of the dresses, even altering your accent.

The merchant's genuine excitement warmed your heart despite your act. After paying for the clothing, you bid the man farewell with a gentle wave and walked in the opposite direction, leaving the stall and stealing a final glance behind.

You caught sight of the Warlord’s sword and the white feather of his hat vanishing amidst the crowd. With a satisfied smile grazing your lips, you turned on your heels and dashed towards the docks where your new boat awaited you.

Just over a month later, you found yourself once again face-to-face with the swordman, this time at a tavern in a different part of the East Blue. Despite his distance from your position at the bar, the frequent glances you exchanged with each other evoked a completely different sensation.

In a peculiar manner, he seemed to be savoring the chase, never resorting to his strength or speed to corner you. Instead, he engaged in a game of hide and seek, seemingly finding amusement in the pursuit.

Naturally, you weren't foolish enough to approach his table and engage in conversation with a man who was likely plotting to hand you over to the authorities. After emptying your glass, you rose from the bar and made your way outside into the open air. Without bothering to check if he was following, you skillfully maneuvered yourself through corners and darted down alleys, searching for the most efficient shortcut you could find. Finally, you arrived at your vessel and embarked on another voyage, mustering the courage to look at the docks as the boat moved further away.

Mihawk stood there, unmoving, his expression void of any emotion, his golden eyes piercing into you without a single blink.

And just as it had happened before, a grin spread across your face. It was a triumphant gesture, a deliberate provocation to show him that you were also thoroughly enjoying the game. Mihawk remained unfazed, turning away and retracing his steps without making any attempt to pursue you by sea.

This pattern continued for quite some time, with more encounters scattered all over the East Blue. Each one of them ended with your successful escape, leaving his intense gaze fixed upon you. At some point, you began to suspect that he was intentionally letting you get away. It seemed unbelievable that a skilled fighter with his reputation would consistently be defeated by a novice like yourself.

While it was initially exhilarating and you liked the thrill of the challenge, in the end, it left you with a profound emptiness in your heart. Dracule Mihawk was undeniably a handsome man, but his attention proved incapable of filling the void that lingered within you. This was primarily due to his unfriendly intentions, as he solely aimed to capture you eventually. The truth was that you deeply missed your family, friends, and the mundane life that you could no longer reclaim. Ever since obtaining that bounty, you had to sever all contact with your loved ones for their safety. The overwhelming sense of loneliness and the feeling of being trapped in an endless cycle weighed heavily on you, leaving an intense craving for a definitive way out that appeared impossible to find at the time.

Your reasoning led you to the conclusion that if Mihawk's true intention was to hand you over to the Marines, he would have to kill you in the process.

While you didn't necessarily desire death to befall you, the life of a pirate had its limitations when it came to joy and fulfillment. It simply wasn't the path meant for you, and you couldn't help but wish you had known what awaited you beyond your familiar surroundings before leaving behind everything and everyone you held dear.

You were utterly exhausted, drained both physically and emotionally. The scars on your back had fully healed and partially faded, but they still left behind a collection of unsightly, rough marks that marred your skin. You were so desperate to avoid setting foot in another Marine base that you would have willingly allowed Mihawk to annihilate you.

And so, the next time you saw him, it was meant to be the very last.

Voices reached your ears, hinting at the existence of a cave brimming with wonders on a small, inhabited piece of land. Given the prevalence of pirates eager to seize anything valuable, you didn't have high expectations for what you might discover. fueled by curiosity and with no pressing obligations, you made the bold choice to embark on this adventure, inspect the cave and fearlessly delve into its depths.

As you had anticipated, there were footprints marking the sandy and muddy terrain within the cave. Empty treasure chests were scattered about, their contents long since plundered. You could only salvage a few scattered pieces of gold and jewelry that had been left behind in various locations.

Though the loot may not have been plentiful, it was still a satisfying outcome after such a long journey. Your focus was captivated by a ring that could have easily been overlooked, partially buried in the sand with only a corner of its metallic surface peeking out. It was a stunning golden band embellished with a raw emerald gemstone, a piece that felt perfectly suited for you and one that you eagerly anticipated wearing once it had been thoroughly cleaned.

Silver chains, leather strings, sparkling gemstones, and ethnic rings. You cherished collecting these pieces from your travels as mementos, a way to etch every experience into your memory, symbolize your personal growth, and serve as a reminder that you were alive and thriving.

With your bag partially filled with your newly discovered treasures, you gracefully emerged from the cave, feeling the gentle breeze caress your hair. Lost in contemplation, you strolled along the shoreline, your eyes set upon your boots as they sank into the sand, making a satisfying sound with each step.

It took a moment for you to realize that you were no longer alone on the island. Someone stood just a few feet away, observing your approaching figure with a composed expression.

As you finally raised your gaze, your heart started pounding, and a sense of unease coiled in your stomach. Standing before you was Dracule Mihawk, his piercing golden eyes locked on you.

Gradually, your movements slowed until you finally came to a halt. Despite the noticeable distance separating the two of you, he made no attempt to close the gap. His stance exhibited no hint of malice; his hands rested calmly at his sides as he observed you, not even reaching for his sword.

The longer you locked eyes with him, the less inclined you felt to leave. With a subtle smile, you displayed unwavering determination and proceeded to walk forward with confidence. Mihawk remained motionless, offering no indication of initiating combat as you drew nearer, leaving his intentions cloaked in enigma.

You walked past him, deliberately avoiding eye contact and redirecting your attention to the path ahead. Your ears remained vigilant, attuned to the surrounding sounds, making sure that he wasn't closely trailing behind you.

However, shattering the silence, his voice suddenly reached your ears, and you heard him speak for the first time since it all began.

"You are quite challenging to track down.”

You stopped abruptly, clutching the bag tightly on your shoulder. Swallowing hard, you fought to suppress the lump that formed in your throat. His voice, like liquid honey, flowed effortlessly, captivating your attention and exuding a calmness that instantly alleviated your nerves.

You took a deep breath, reluctantly acknowledging that the sound of his voice was stirring emotions within you that you weren't ready to confront at this moment.

You turned around, meeting his golden eyes once again. “Not that much for you, apparently,” you retorted, your words laced with a hint of defiance.

For a brief moment, you caught a fleeting glimpse of the corners of his lips twitching, as if hinting at a smile. However, it immediately disappeared, leaving only a trace of its presence.

"Now what?" you asked him. "Are you finally going to capture me and hand me over? If that's the case, then you'll have to kill me. I won't put up any resistance.”

“Is that so?”

No matter how much you strained to interpret his expression, he appeared remarkably disinterested, showing no signs of engagement or emotion.

You shrugged, "We both know that I wouldn't stand a chance against your sword. The bounty poster states 'dead or alive,' and I doubt they would be concerned about the state I'm in as long as I'm eliminated.”

Casting a fleeting glance at the sword at your hip, he emitted a curious hum, tilting his head slightly to the side, almost imperceptibly. Silence settled between the two of you, accompanied only by the gentle rhythm of the waves, creating a soothing melody that enveloped the atmosphere.

You waited patiently, but he made no indication of taking any action against you.

"Well, that was quite the delightful conversation," you remarked sarcastically, pivoting on your heels and resuming your stride.

As your eyes landed on your boat in the distance, you suddenly realized that the urge to hasten your steps had dissipated. The weariness of constantly running away had taken root in you, leaving you with a profound sense of homelessness, unable to find a place where you truly belonged.

To your surprise, you heard him steadily moving behind you, his footsteps synchronizing with your own in a deliberate and unhurried rhythm. You continued along your path, maintaining silence, a part of you anticipating a powerful strike that would bring you down. However, to your relief, the enigmatic man made no attempt to impede you. Not even a hint of hostility could be sensed.

As your nervousness heightened, you made a deliberate choice to pause, silently inviting him to draw nearer. With caution, your hand moved to release the dagger from its secure holster on your belt. A quick glance at the subtle shadows cast on the sand confirmed that he was now mere inches away, in your immediate proximity.

In one seamless motion, you spun around, positioning your blade against his throat without applying any pressure. It served as a warning, your glare speaking volumes without the need for words.

Mihawk remained unaffected, appearing to disregard the presence of the dagger entirely. Frustration surged, causing you to tighten your grip on the hilt of the knife, your eyebrows furrowing in annoyance.

"Are you seriously planning to follow me around without making a move?" you demanded, your voice tinged with exasperation. "How much longer do you think I can endure this game of cat and mouse?"

"You can lower that knife," he replied, his tone filled with discontent. "I have no intention of causing you any harm.”

As you observed him up close for the first time, you couldn't help but feel a slight infatuation with his striking appearance. His eyes held a captivating allure, his face partially shadowed by the wide brim of his hat, and his dark hair cascading in soft curls at the nape of his neck.

In an effort to regain composure, you cautiously withdrew the blade from his throat, though you kept your hand poised and prepared.

"Didn't the Marines send you after me?" you asked.

"Oh, they certainly did."

"And you're not going to obey the orders?"

Mihawk let out a quiet scoff, looking away from you and briefly gazing upward. "I don't take orders," he stated firmly.

You instinctively took a step back, regarding him with suspicion as your eyes carefully scanned him from head to toe. "They say that the Warlords of the Sea are nothing more than lapdogs of the Government.”

His golden irises locked onto you once more, seemingly a threatening gesture. However, undeterred, you pressed on. "Enlighten me, then. What should I believe? What other purpose could you possibly have in relation to me?”

You allowed your hand to fall to your side, although with a tight grip on the hilt of the dagger. Mihawk contemplated his response, ultimately giving you the most nonchalant look imaginable.

“I’m just killing some time.”

You took a moment to process what he had told you. "I'm sorry, what?" you responded, seeking clarification.

"Although I do find you intriguing,” he added.

You were left speechless, your mouth hanging open. "You don't even know me," you replied with incredulity.

"I’ve seen enough. And I am aware of your reputation.”

Crossing your arms, you took care not to accidentally cut the leather sleeve of your jacket in the process. "What's so intriguing about my reputation?”

Mihawk pressed his lips together before responding, "A woman escaping a base full of Marines, completely unarmed? That's not something you hear every day.”

You rolled your eyes. "Don't tell me you're one of those sexist bastards who think women can't handle themselves.”

"Quite the contrary. Not even most men would be able to escape that situation unscathed.”

You stood there, a smug grin adorning your face as you watched him. It would be a lie to say that it didn't give your ego a significant boost.

But deep down, the memories of those days still twisted your insides. "Who said I came out unscathed?" you retorted. "And this doesn't explain much either. You said you have no intention of handing me over, so what's your motive, Warlord?”

"Perhaps I wanted to personally verify your worth.”

Unable to contain yourself, you let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head in amusement. "In other words, you were bored.”

"I can become quite laidback when I don't have anything interesting to occupy my time," he said casually.

A part of you found him entertaining, but at the same time, his way of speaking to you continued to irritate you. "Well, at least you can afford to be laidback now that your bounty has been cancelled.”

Your retort was filled with venom and resentment, yet once again, Mihawk appeared unfazed by it. "With or without a bounty, I wouldn't do anything differently.”

You started to question the authenticity of the rumors surrounding this man, considering how different he was from your initial expectations. The fact that he hadn't made any aggressive moves towards you made you wonder if there was more to him than met the eye.

Evidently, his immunity with the Government held little importance to him. He exhibited a keenness to discover something, anything, that could captivate his time and attention, disregarding any orders he may have received. He pursued his own interests, driven by personal motivations above all else.

"That's a shame," you murmured. "I'm afraid I'm not as interesting as you may have assumed. The only thing I excel at is disguising myself.”

"You are underestimating yourself.”

"How so?”

"You mercilessly killed a Marine Admiral. You managed to evade all pirate hunters who pursued you and successfully escaped from me multiple times.”

"All I did was survive.”

"And you have been successful in that, so far.”

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as a gust of wind swept through your hair. "Do you know what it's like? To be separated from your family, unable to even reach out to them because you're constantly being chased wherever you go?”

Mihawk remained silent, attentively observing your reaction.

And then, he spoke. "Such are the perils of a life on the open seas, I'm afraid.”

"I made one mistake, and I've been punished in the harshest way possible. How is that fair? They left me with no other choice. I had to do what I did.”

"You don't need to justify yourself to me," he replied calmly, his tone devoid of judgment.

"You say that, yet here you stand. No offense, but why should I place my trust in you?”

As your heart raced in your chest, its strong beats reverberating through your body, you took deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down. Meanwhile, Mihawk remained as calm and serene as ever.

"Do as you wish," he said with a casual shrug. "But I must say, you are quite unrefined. Your movements are predictable, and unless you learn to control them, you won't last much longer.”

You raised an eyebrow at his statement, letting out a laugh that was a mix of amusement and surprise. It seemed like a blend of criticism and advice, leaving you intrigued by his words.

"What's this? Now you suddenly want to offer me your help?" you questioned skeptically. "I never asked for your guidance. Whether I live or die is my own concern," you declared firmly.

Mihawk's eyes narrowed, his gaze intensifying as if he were scrutinizing you closely, studying every detail.

"Unless," you continued, leaning forward and bringing your face dangerously close to his, exuding confidence, almost brushing his lips with yours. "-you want to be the one to push me to my limits," you added, your words carrying a daring challenge.

His typically stoic expression, always composed and unwavering, appeared to subtly shift in response to your audacious gesture. You could catch a whiff of his captivating scent, a blend of cologne, sea salt, and earth, filling your senses.

You had to quickly pull away from his taller figure, concealing the faint blush that was starting to creep onto your cheeks.

"What's the final verdict, Warlord?" you taunted. "After all, you were given explicit orders to capture me.”

Your blade made contact with the golden cross he wore around his neck and pressed against his chest, the sound of metal against metal resonating in the air. The open coat he wore left little to the imagination, revealing that he had indeed chosen not to wear a shirt underneath.

You returned to your serious and sincere demeanor, looking up to meet his hawk-like eyes once more. Your stern and courageous facade was starting to waver, but you were determined not to let a stranger see your vulnerability, especially when your life was on the line and his intentions remained uncertain.

You chuckled with amusement as you securely placed the knife back into its holster. What am I supposed to do?" you pondered aloud, more to yourself than to him.

“Grow strong and keep fighting,” he declared. "If you don’t wish to die sooner rather than later. Certainly, it won't be by my hand.”

His words left you speechless, leaving you without a proper answer as he walked past you, now the one departing. You turned around, staring at the intricate details and embroideries adorning his coat. With each step he took, his sword lightly swayed on his back, creating a graceful and mesmerizing motion.

"They won't be pleased with that," you raised your voice, ensuring that he could hear you. This prompted him to pause and briefly turn his head, acknowledging your words.

"They never are," he replied with a tone of resignation before resuming his journey, leaving you behind.

A smile of relief and respect formed on your lips as you reflected on the man who had relentlessly chased you, only to ultimately allow you to go free. Somehow, he perceived something valuable and worthy in you that led him to defy the orders of the Marines, opting for a confrontation that didn't resort to physical violence.

As he became a tiny speck in the distance, you readjusted the bag on your shoulders and set off towards your own ship. A newfound sense of confidence coursed through your veins like never before, propelling you forward into the unknown.

Yes, you had firmly believed that seeing him at that moment would undoubtedly be the ultimate encounter.

Except that it wasn’t.

Go to Chapter 2 ->

[theodore-sallis]

“Several Meaningless Deaths Part 1”, Monsters Unleashed (Vol. 1/1973), #8.

Writer: Steve Gerber; Penciler: Pat Broderick; Al Milgrom

[jkparkin]

Daredevil: Unleash Hell – Red Band #1 (Marvel, February 2025) cover by Stephanie Hans

[usedtobecooler]

mary on a cross - gator tillman x fem!reader (a limited series of blurbs - part 1 of 3)

warnings: 18+ sexual content, oral m receiving, abuse of power, religious themes, loose background, adultery, praise kink, dacryphilia, hair pulling, general debauchery.

word count: 1.2k

a/n: i'm going to hell for this one but we all knew that. finally i've unleashed my horny thoughts!!

“That’s it, darlin’,” Gator traces your plump, wet bottom lip with his calloused thumb, the tip barely pushing in to part your mouth for him — allow him entry, “‘member what Pastor Reeves said at sermon today — give yourself unto the Lord, trust in him and let him guide you.” 

You nod, spit damp tongue swiping over his salty, flushed skin with every bob of your head. You sit on your knees, ass on your heels, hands crossed in your naked lap obediently. Anything for him, anything for your Savior. 

“Good girl,” a whisper of a smile plays on his lips, as he pries your jaw open with harsh fingers on your heated cheeks, “open wide for me, my little lamb. Show me how good you can be.” 

Your jaw unhinges easily, tongue lolling out as you watch through hooded eyes, Gator’s large hand wrapping around the base of his hardened cock — barely freed from the confines of his chocolate brown church suit trousers. He’s fully dressed barr that, from the slightly loosened collar of his shirt, to the perfectly shined shoes still on his feet. A juxtaposition to how you laid on the plush carpet, completely bare for him to revel and marvel at. 

The weeping head of his cock smears against your cheek, a streak left behind on flushed skin, branding you like an iron to the cattle in your daddy’s pen, before making home in the cavern of your mouth, sliding in like he’d done countless times before. You’d never tire of that breathy sigh that would escape him every time, the marrying of his brows as your lips wrapped around his length, creating the perfect tight heat.  

You knew better than to get involved with the Tillman family, your mama always told you those folks were no good. 

But, Lord forgive you, was Gator Tillman hard to stay away from. 

You prayed at your bedside every evening for forgiveness, for the sin that followed you and darkened the door every time you allowed him to enter your home. To enter your body, to mold himself as one with you – unwed, ruined for any other man after him. Defiled and dirty. Soiled. 

“So fuckin’ good for me, every time,” he moans quietly as his hips begin to move, fingertips leaving your unhinged jaw to settle at the crown of your head, holding you in place with a grip on your locks, a warning to stay put and do as you’re told.

You wanted to be so good for him, the best. Your nails dig into the soft meat of the tops of your thighs as he finds your gag reflex and pushes past it, gliding down your throat until you’re retching and sputtering, already making a mess.

“Count to ten in your head,” Gator commands, voice firm as you struggle to maintain eye contact with him — his own orbs hardened with lust and demand.

Ten seconds feel like a lifetime as your throat spasms around him, nails breaking skin, cunt fluttering despite the discomfort. The need to be good, good, good. His little lamb. His perfect little disciple. 

His cock slides out of your throat and allows you a momentary reprieve before he’s plunging back in again, your flattened tongue catching on a prominent vein and running down it as he starts a brutal pace with a tight fist locked into the most sensitive section of your scalp. 

The grunts and moans spilling from Gator’s open mouth are enough to have you looking skyward, breaking eye contact to momentarily apologize profusely for the debauchery taking place in an unwed bedroom. A sin. One punishable by a lifelong sentence with the Devil himself.

He doesn’t like that, pulls harshly at your hair until tears escape your weeping eyes and pool in your temples with how tightly he’s snapped your neck back, his entire length gone from your mouth and leaving you desperate, begging for him to come back with a quiet whine, “In this room, I am your God. You understand? You pray to me, to my cock. You beg me for forgiveness.” 

“Yes, sir,” your voice is barely above a whisper, wet with tears because you’ve ruined it, how silly could you be, “I can be so good, please? I– I’m so sorry—” 

“You need it that bad, huh?” He chuckles, humorless, grabs a hold of the base of his cock with his free hand once more and slaps you across the face with it this time — you take it, a whimper making its way from deep in your throat, thighs clenching, “Open up, darlin’.” 

Muscle memory. Your jaw unhinges once again as he feeds his thick length to you, not allowing you the mercy of preparing and relaxing this time, going back to the harsh, sickeningly fast pace as he was giving before.

You’re crying properly — when did that happen? Your bloodshot eyes gaze up into Gator’s own and he grunts, groans, shoves in that bit deeper until your saliva oozes from your tight lips, mixing in with your tears and making a downright mess of him.

You don’t dare move, though you ache to touch and feel him, grab handfuls of thick thighs and cling on for dear life. You haven’t been good enough. You don’t deserve it. 

“Fuckin’ cryin’ for me?” Gator gushes, eyes softening ever so slightly, almost awestruck, “It feel good? Being so fuckin’ special for me?” 

You nod again, as best you can given how stuffed full your mouth is, a fresh batch of tears spilling down your cheeks. The salty, heady taste of his precum becomes prominent in the back of your throat, hips stuttering — telltale signs he’s so close. You’re being good, doing so good for him. 

“My obedient girl, I’ve taught you so well,” Gator’s voice is softer, wetter, weakening as his release closes in on him, “perfect little mouth, fuck — gonna let me cum in it? Ruin you, huh? Show me how devoted you are, c’mon.”

You moan around your mouthful, and he pushes in so deep at the sheer vibration of it that your nose brushes the dark, wiry thatch of hair on his pubic bone as he releases. Shoots off so hard and fast you’re struggling to contain your coughs and splutters, swallowing it down like it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted.

Hands never moving. Sat perfectly on your thighs that now quake and bleed from blunt nails, pebbled nipples aching with every gentle brush of his loose slacks against them. 

He lets up his grip on your head when he’s done, cock heavy in your mouth and slipping out once spent. Gentle, honey speckled eyes lock with yours once more, a soft caress to your cheek to let you know you did well. 

Clearly not well enough.

He tucks his flaccid cock back inside his pants, still soaked with your saliva, snot and tears — gone without a trace. Leaving you with trembling hands, shaky legs and a soaked cunt, that weeps and begs to be touched as it makes a mess of your inner thighs.

You pray silently for forgiveness and redemption as deft fingers slip past slick folds and relieve the ache you so desperately needed gone.