#Replacing the earpiece
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salvationrepair · 7 days ago
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Lenovo Vibe Z2 Pro Ear Piece Speaker Replacement
Duration: 45 minutes Steps: 18 Steps Having trouble catching every word in your phone conversations? Is your ear piece speaker sounding a bit wonky? No worries, in this guide, we’re here to help you swap out that ear piece speaker and get back to crystal-clear chats! Step 1 – Pop out those 4.9 mm torx head screws holding the camera plate on the phone’s back Step 2 – Let’s get started by…
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stardustedknuckles · 7 months ago
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I've never had noise canceling headphones before and I feel like I'm having a religious experience. I feel like a blinkered horse. Like this is WHY they were blinkered. Apparently the hypervigilance is stored in the ears for me and this not only takes that WAY down to a level I never realized was possible, it also clears the cache of that part of my brain and I can THINK.
What the fuck. Where have these BEEN. I feel like I purchased a (frankly cheaply made) superpower.
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sooniebby · 26 days ago
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ఌ 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐄
w.c › 6k
warnings › face claims. Part 3. Bottom male reader. Brief use of the word “pussy”
plot › you start to date Mingi, learning how much he has wanted you for years while reevaluating your relationship with Yohan
kinks › feminization, friction play, size differences, Noona kink, calls reader “girl”, praise kink
Words to know › maknae (막내) — youngest. Hyung (형) — a term a younger male will call an older male. Jagiya/Jagi (자기야) — “sweetie/baby.” Noona (누나) — a term a younger male will call an older female.
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
Four years ago
“I heard you.”
Yohan glanced over at you, staring at your back. It was the day of the group’s first performance. The other members were to the other side of the dressing room, doing vocal exercises. You were fixing your tie. Everyone was dressed in school uniforms.
“Heard what?” Yohan asked, tilting his head. He never talked to you unless necessary. While every other member seemed to just fall at your feet—he wanted nothing to do with you.
It took a minute before you turned and looked at him. His eyes widen at the sight. You were on the verge of tears but somehow you were able to glare at him.
You walked over to him, “I heard you say that I must’ve slept with the CEO to get my position in the group.” Your voice was quiet. “I heard you say that Minnie probably hates me because I ‘replaced’ him.”
“Minnie?” Yohan whispered, raising an eyebrow.
“Let me tell you something, Park Yohan.” You leaned over, your breath brushing against his ear. “You don’t have to like me but I won’t take disrespect and I won’t let you tear this group down because you’re upset I’m a better leader than you.
“Besides, a real leader wouldn’t let his feelings get in the way of the group’s performance.” With that, you pulled away, not even sparing him another glance. You moved to where Gaeul was standing and motioned for her to help you fix your tie.
Yohan just stood there, staring at you in shock.
What the fuck?
He couldn’t even think about anything else—mainly on just what else could you have possibly heard.
But he didn’t get to think for long when it was Miracle’s time to perform. The group got on stage and Yohan felt weirdly uncomfortable. Almost all of the members looked at you for guidance—they didn’t even spare him a glance.
As each member got into position, Yohan glanced over at you. Your eyes were soft and resembled a doe. He took note that you didn’t even pay any attention to the people in the crowd but the members, giving each of them a wide smile.
You glanced at him and immediately your softness was gone. You simply nodded at him and fixed your head mic, making sure it was straight.
The metronome in the earpiece ticked before the song burst into the quiet scene. Everything was going well for the most part. While the crowd wasn’t too excited as it was the debut stage—a few people were getting interested.
Every members mic was on but you were certainly the highlight, managing to sing non stop, even singing your ad-libs.
As Yohan moved about stage, he heard the sound of fabric tearing. He didn’t even need to touch his legs to know his pants had ripped. Fucking cheap stakes! The pants were already tight on him, of course they ripped.
He continued dancing while subtly checking where the damage was done. His inner thigh… which was fine until he could tell it spread to the area of his crotch.
For fuck sakes. Yohan debated running off stage so he didn’t flash the audience as he got in a still position during your final chorus. As he mentally cursed himself while thinking of ways to subtly run back stage, you began tugging off your blazer.
You did it subtly enough that it looked as if it was apart of the performance. You didn’t even skip a second as you wrapped your blazer around Yohan’s waist, covering the growing split.
Yohan felt himself stiffen as you rest your head on his shoulder, finishing your line before Kihyun took over for the high note. This part of the song had all of the members frozen beside Kihyun.
Yohan tried to calm himself down as you stayed pressed against him, sacrificing your original position of standing beside him. He didn’t even know how you noticed his pants ripped. Everyone was so focused on completing the performance without a problem.
The rest of the song went fine, ending with each member’s picked out ending fairy. Yohan couldn’t even care too much, way too happy about not flashing anyone. He’d have to complain to the stylist today.
As the crowd clapped, the members released their pose and began to bow, thanking the audience. Yohan was about to say something when the sound of a whimper caught his attention.
He looked to his right to see you bawling…?
You took off your microphone as you covered your mouth to muffle your cries. Hyojin was almost immediately by your side, rubbing your back in comforting circles.
It didn’t take long for Doha to join, patting your head. Kihyun took a moment before coming over. Mingi looked nervous as he covered your body from the crowd’s face, almost like a way of giving you modesty.
Yohan just stared….
His group were comforting you as if they knew you for years now.
What the fuck?
After the group helped you walk off stage and everyone got changed into their regular clothing, Yohan was ready to just go home. He just hated that would still have to see you.
Everyone lived in a shared apartment, two boys in one room each. They had only moved in a few days ago and he was unlucky enough to room with you.
When they reached the apartments, Yohan was confused to see Kihyun taking some boxes away from his room. He walked in to see you on your side of the room, rubbing at your face. You glanced up when you heard him and frowned.
“Park Yohan-Ssi.” You said, he didn’t know how to feel with how respectful you were speaking to him—as if he was a coworker. “I’m switching rooms with Dodo—Doha. It… makes sense.”
“Makes sense?” Yohan asked, tilting his head. “What do you mean?”
You almost looked nervous before shaking your head. “A..anyway, I wanted to apologize… it was rude of me to say such things to you today right before a performance. I made you perform terribly.”
Yohan could only stare at you.
This…
How can someone be this….
He didn’t understand.
“I’ll go now…” you whispered, leaving the room quickly. Yohan didn’t even flinch.
Even if you had just apologized…
You weren’t wrong.
He was fucking up the group’s dynamic.
And it was all because he fucking hated you.
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
After the 24 hrs performance, you had gained a wider audience than before. Gaeul had mentioned that there was a growth in female fans for you and she was certainly right. It was nice to see some fans that weren’t just thirsting over you but this somehow pushed you into more of the NSFW sphere of Miras.
You had went back to visit Hanniesmira only to see that she had started talking about you more. She had recently reposted another post of you.
The most repost was of a short clip of you at the amusement park. You were showing off the makeup the lady had done.
→ I wasn’t familiar with your game, bottom (Name) enthusiasts…
This account was of what looked to be a Kihyun biased Mira. You didn’t know to feel about there being ‘bottom enthusiasts’ but it was nice to see people appreciating your looks. Lots of comments even just innocently saying that you look great feminine.
You scrolled through some other posts when you came across a video from your debut. It was of the group at a variety show and you were standing together as the host was talking about something.
→ ??? I’ve never seen (Name) act like this before??
You didn’t understand what the Mira could’ve meant when you clicked on the video. It started off small as nothing out of the ordinary happened, just you fixing your position to stand straight. But then the clip replayed, with it zoomed in to your shoulder as you stood beside Yohan. The footage was slowed to show how when Yohan brushed up against you, you practically froze and immediately moved away.
@hanniesmira
↳ you didn’t know? Are you a new Mira?
@dohasflatass
↳ man, it was a whole thing! Yhn and (Name) didn’t interact with each other at all for the first six months
@hanniesmira
↳ six months? Naaaah, they didn’t get close until the group’s second year ���ㅋㅋ
@hyoojinie
↳ dark times… now Yhn can’t leave (Name) alone ㅎㅎ I wonder why they hated each other so much
Before you could read anymore, Mingi came into your room. You shut off your phone and placed it down. You’d knew that it wasn’t exactly a secret for the fan base that you and Yohan weren’t chummy until the group’s second year.
You had honestly believed you’d never get close to him at all. But after your family emergency back then—Yohan practically changed.
Deep down, you constantly wondered if he would’ve still hated you if you didn’t go through that whole accident. You were deep in thought as you stood up and got into the motion to get ready for a shower.
Mingi being in the room didn’t even register until he suddenly spoke.
“Why can’t I tell anyone?”
You frowned, glancing over at Mingi who was now lying down on your bed. He was watching you get undressed. Even though you always tell him to look away—he doesn’t exactly listen to you anymore.
It had literally only been two days and Mingi acts as if he is your husband.
“It’s not smart. Hannie obviously can’t hear about it right now and it’s not fair to tell everyone but him.” You said, tugging off your boxers. “Just wait until after our album promotion… we’ll get a six month break so hopefully that’ll be a great time for Hannie to handle the news—if he really does like me.”
Mingi sighed. “You’re so naive, Hyung… you’d think you’re the youngest.”
You glared at him. “Just because I’m your boyfriend doesn’t mean you can speak so lax with me.”
“Why not?” Mingi smirked, his eyes glancing down at your bare lower half as you tugged off your shirt. “You’re lucky I haven’t showed you just how little honorifics mean to me. I’d like it if you’d call me Hyung in bed.”
“Mingi!” You whispered, eyes widen as you stared at him in shock. He was kinkier in ways you didn’t think was possible. But then again, you were a virgin… maybe this wasn’t that strange to be average adult.
“Can I take a shower with you?”
“Absolutely not.” You stormed off to the bathroom.
After showering, you came back to see Mingi was still on your bed. He turned his phone off immediately and gave you a grin. You only rolled your eyes, pulling out some pajamas.
You draped the towel on your shoulders as you pulled up your boxers. “Ah, I wanted to tell you something.”
“What?”
“I found a fan account of mines… Itsokokok. It’s so nice to see that I do have a fan account.” You said, glancing over at Mingi. He looked weirdly happy, a wide grin on his lips.
“Really? Of course you’d have a fan account.”
You smiled. “I guess. But, I think I know who runs the account.”
Mingi immediately sat up. “Wha—Ho—Who??”
You turned to fully face him, “Well I always knew the owner was a guy but it was weird how he talks about me. It’s like he knows me so well… but he hardly even responds to comments.” You smiled, walking over to Mingi.
He stared up at you, his eyes wide. You didn’t understand why he looked a bit nervous as you leaned down and kissed his nose.
“Who do you… think it is?” He asked.
“Kim Pilseung.”
Mingi blinked before raising an eyebrow, “who?”
“Kim Pilseung! The guy I signed the album for, I even gave him my number—”
“—excuse me?” Mingi stood up at that confession but you carried on, slipping on your shirt.
“But he hasn’t called me yet. Maybe he’s just shy.” You slipped on your shirt. “But it makes sense! He’s been around for a while—he’d know where to find pre debut videos of my past performances.”
“I’m still confused on why you gave a stranger your phone number.”
“I have two phones.” You said. “A work phone and a personal phone. I just gave him my work phone number.”
Mingi frowned. “What phone number do I have?”
“Work phone. Only my relatives have my personal phone number, I hardly use it because I don’t want a sasaeng to get the number.” You walked over to your night stand and opened the drawer, pulling out a phone that looked considerably older. “My personal! I’ve had it since I was in high school.”
You tossed it back inside, “it’s not like I use it often. It’s quite old, I need to buy a new one.”
Mingi only shook his head. “Anyway, I just want to know who the fuck Kim Pilseung even is. What the hell was he talking about when he mentioned a performance you did with someone else.”
“Don’t speak to me like that.” You said, sending him a swift glare. Mingi quickly straightened his posture as he apologized. “Good. Ah but Seungie was talking about the duo I was apart of. It was me and an old classmate of mines.”
“Seungie?” Mingi asked. “Wait, you were in a duo with a classmate?”
“Yea, cute right?” You giggled. “Mhm. My classmate and I performed together until he debuted in his company. We couldn’t perform together anymore after that. I almost gave up when that happened.”
You grabbed your (work) phone and pulled up your mother’s Instagram. It took a minute as you scrolled through the numerous photos she posted about you until you got to the first ever video she took.
It was another angle of the A.D.T.O.Y. Performance you did back in high school. This angle showed that you weren’t alone on stage but there was another boy beside you.
The caption was a bit crazy, but your mother was just an eccentric woman.
→ my baby performing!!! The voice of an angel, got it from me of course ㅋㅋㅋㅋ edit: Stop messaging me that song is inappropriate, he’s fully clothed!!! And yes, I know His friend is there too… I guess he sounds good too
“His name is Hong Garam.”
“He shares the same last name as you?”
You giggled, “yeah! That’s how we first started talking. Cute right?”
“We find different things cute.” Mingi rolled his eyes. “I’ve never heard of him, I guess he didn’t make it in the business.”
“You’re so childish. He has a stage name. He even—”
“Okay, okay, I care more about this Kim Pilseung. You think he’s the owner of your fan account, why do you care?”
“I want to thank him… is that weird?”
“No… I guess not, but honestly—you don’t need to.”
You frowned, “why not?”
Mingi sighed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to talk about another man right now, I was planning on having fun tonight.”
“Fun?”
“Never mind. I wanna sleep, lay down.” He didn’t even wait for you to respond as he pulled you to lay down on the bed. You didn’t even fight it, allowing him to manhandle you into his arms as he cuddled you.
“Minnie… I need to turn off the lights.”
“No.”
As he easily fell asleep, you couldn’t help but think back to the day everything changed between you and Yohan.
Two years ago
You were standing by the bridge, glancing up the moon. It was cool, the April weather finally starting warm up as May was approaching. You had to miss the group’s trip to the amusement park due to a family emergency and you were trying hard to not think about it.
It was silly. It was just an amusement park anyway…
Your gaze was on the water beneath the bride as you stood up on your tippy toes to get a better look.
It was almost calming when you were suddenly tackled to the ground. A loud scream left your throat as you immediately tried to fight against your assailant when you came face to face with… Yohan?
You stared up at him with wide eyes before a frown pulled on your lips. “Yohan-Ssi, what are—?”
“—are you crazy?!”
You blinked. “Crazy?”
Yohan glared down at you as he gripped your wrists. “Were you seriously about to jump? I know everything seems terrible right now but you can’t.. you can’t just leave the others… they’d be crushed.”
“But I wasn’t—”
“—even I’d… I don’t know what I’d do if you were gone.” His voice had gone soft, his grip loosening. “They can’t.. no, we can’t go on without you. I know I’m such a dick and nothing I say can change that but please… let me make it up to you, no matter how many years it takes. Don’t leave us, Hong (Name)… we can be your new family—especially after losing—”
“—Park Yohan, my family didn’t die.” You said, interrupting him.
“Huh?” Yohan opened his eyes, they were surprisingly wet with tears. “But the nurse said they died at the scene…?”
“The car accident wasn’t anything serious.” You shook your head. “I had to come for my mom so they can patch a cut she has on her forehead. Only the car got damaged.” You frowned. “The nurse must’ve gotten me mixed up with someone else.”
“So… your mom and brother didn’t die in a car crush?”
“No. I don’t even have a brother.” You stared at him up, tilting your head. “Besides… there’s a net attached to the bridge, it’d catch me if I really did want to jump.”
Yohan simply blinked. “So… so I…”
“You cared enough to run after me?” You whispered, a slight grin on your lips. “Y’know, this wouldn’t have happened if you visited when the other members came.”
“Oh.”
“Oh.” You laughed. “So, is that it? Will you start ignoring me now?”
Yohan got off of you, staring down at you. He glanced over the bridge—possibly checking to see if you weren’t lying before shaking his head.
“No. I guess I just needed a push to be honest. I meant every word.”
It was your turn to stare at him in shock. Your lips parted as you tried to speak but only a gasp left you.
It was from that moment, that Park Yohan had realized how bad he—no, the group—needed you.
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
Kim Pilseung still hadn’t called you—you were beginning to think maybe he didn’t want to. But then again, he was shy when speaking to you. Perhaps he was just nervous.
You were in the dance studio with the other members after a long day of practicing. Mingi and Yohan looked to be acting normal so you were semi happy. Though there would be instances of Mingi would purposely touch your waist in ways he’d never done before.
Luckily Yohan didn’t seem to be taking the bait, yet…
“You keep staring at your phone,” Kihyun suddenly said, wiping at the sweat on his neck. “Waiting for someone? Maybe that guy you visited all the time?”
Mingi immediately sat up from the floor, staring straight at you. “What guy? When was this?”
“When Hyung, Hyojin and I shared an apartment together,” Kihyun said, unknowing to the inner turmoil he was sending Mingi into. “Hyung would leave at 10:00 pm sharp and come back with this guy. The guy was always overly dressed—hat and face mask. He wouldn’t even speak, just dropped off a sleepy Hyung before leaving like the flash.”
Hyojin hummed. “I thought he was drugging Hyung but it seems Hyung just has a natural clock.”
You frowned, “that’s a bit embarrassing.” By natural clock, it simply meant your body automatically shut down by midnight. No matter how hard you tried—you would practically drop like a rock into slumber. You only managed to stay up to 12:30 am, once. Back in middle school no less.
“Who was he anyway? You stopped meeting with him right before we moved into double apartments?” Kihyun asked.
“Ah. Hong Garam.” Only Mingi seemed bothered by this while the other members only stared at you in confusion.
“Who the fuck is that?” Doha asked.
“Hyung’s old classmate,” Mingi answered, his face tense as his jaw tightened. Shit, you’d have explaining to do later.
“He’s also Hong Hwan.”
That seemed to cause Hyojin to sit up. “Hong Hwan?!”
Even Kihyun seemed shocked. “Hong Hwan?! I’ve met Hong Hwan and I didn’t even know!” He cursed to himself, shaking his head.
Mingi groaned, “who is that?!”
“Hong Hwan,” Doha answered. “A popular actor. Well he used to be an idol but he’s basically more of an actor nowadays. His group disbanded but he has solo songs.”
“Do you guys still talk?” Mingi asked. “You haven’t been leaving the dorm.”
You nodded. “He’s busy with promotions for his latest drama. I can let you guys meet him when he’s free.”
“I’d love that, Hyung!” Kihyun immediately said, a grin on his lips.
The other members chimed in agreement while Mingi only huffed, shaking his head. You sighed. After a few minutes of brief conversation, Gaeul walked into the studio with a grin on her face.
“Hey, Hey~! So tomorrow you guys will record content but it’ll be different from normal!” She said, giggling in excitement. “It’ll be a roleplay—like a family type thing. There’ll be two parents, three kids and the other is one of the character’s boyfriend.”
“Like a drama?” Doha asked.
“Yes yes. The whole plot is that the parents and younger brothers don’t approve of their eldest daughter’s boyfriend because he looks like a gang member.”
“Daughter? So one of us has to play a girl?” You asked.
“Technically two girls, as there’s a mom. Anyway, we allowed Miras to pick all of your roles! We did a poll on Twitter. So first, the boyfriend will be played by Mingi!”
Mingi perked up at that, “really?”
“Yeah, yeah. Ah, the younger brothers will be played by Yohan and Doha. You can pretend to be any age you want.” She scrolled on her phone as she hummed slightly. “And now for the daughter, Hyojin will be the daughter—is that okay, Hyojin-Ah?”
Hyojin hummed. “I’m fine with it.”
“Great. That leaves (Name) and Kihyun.”
You kinda mentally prepared to be the dad—it was obvious. Miras constantly called you Miracle’s dad! But you never thought they’d vote Kihyun as the mom—he wasn’t the type. Honestly you were shocked Doha wasn’t the boyfriend as his whole assigned persona was a bad boy.
Maybe Miras wanted a little change as well.
“Kihyun was voted as the dad and (Name) as the mom! The van will pick you guys up at noon tomorrow, be ready! I’ll see you guys later.” With that, she left.
You blinked. That was a surprise.
But a welcomed one at that.
The group all went home after that. You expected Mingi to immediately start questioning you about Hwan but he seemed to have forgotten all about it. He only sprawled out on the couch and began watching a random Thai drama. You gave him a quick kiss good night before leaving to your bedroom.
You pulled out your phone and began checking Twitter again, wanting to see the polls. It wasn’t anything too crazy—no one seemed mad at the results. In fact a lot of Miras were excited to see Mingi as a ‘bad boy.’
A few giddy to see Hyojin as a girl.
As you scrolled you came across an older video—it looked to be from the group’s second year. The groups first ever festival performance. You remembered it was for a college festival.
The video looked to be off the ending. Each member was walking to their ending position. The song playing was ‘Sweet Dreams’ so each member got down to the ground and laid their head on the other’s shoulder, pretending to fall asleep.
After the final verse, each member began to ‘wake up’ as they waved at the fans. But when it reached Kihyun, second to last, he didn’t get to get up because your head was still resting on his shoulder. He reached over to tap your shoulder only to find out you were fast asleep.
He immediately began laughing and comfortingly patted your head as the other members turned around to see what was wrong.
You vaguely remembered why you had fallen asleep—it was midnight by the time the performance was over. It was a miracle you even managed to finish the performance when you remembered being sleepy the entire time.
A dip in your bed caught your attention as Mingi appeared beside you. He looked tired as he laid down, patting the spot beside him. You only rolled your eyes but laid down, immediately cuddling up in his arms.
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
“I think I make a pretty girl.”
You glanced over to see Hyojin already fully dressed in his girl costume. Because his hair was already a bit long, the hair stylist only added extensions to make them reach his shoulders. His outfit wasn’t too feminine by all means. A pink t-shirt and shorts.
He had on light makeup—one a teen girl would normally wear. You gave him grin.
“Cute~ My daughter is cute.” You teased, giggling as Hyojin rolled his eyes. The others were already done for the most part, waiting out in the living room. Filming was taking place in a random house the company rented out.
You were almost finished—the hairstylist simply fixing your wig. Dressed in a more feminine outfit—you wore a fluffy white sweater with a black pants that disguised itself as a flowing skirt.
The wig the hairstylist was putting on you was black that reached your back. It looked cheap but with the curls the stylist put it made it have more volume. Your makeup was minimal and hardly noticeable.
Hyojin hummed, joining you by the makeup stand. “You look like you could be someone’s mom.” He said, laughing when you glared at him through the mirror.
The both of you join the others where a staff member is clipping their mics to their clothing. Yohan was dressed in a soccer uniform while Doha still had on a school uniform with fake glasses.
Kihyun was dressed exactly like a dad. Rectangular glasses sat on the bridge of his nose while his hair was swiped back with gel. He’s dressed in a polo shirt and black slacks.
But they didn’t matter too much to you—your members always looked good. No, who caught your eye was, of course, Choi Mingi.
His blonde hair was shaggy and purposefully messy, a bit of dark eyeliner that sharpened his fox like eyes. He wore a black leather jacket over a white t-shirt and black ripped jeans. He was fixing his clip on mic when he gazed over at you.
You watched as his eyes slowly widen with recognition as he took you in. You felt your cheeks burn as you wanted to look away but kept staring back at him. Did he think you looked good? Hopefully you looked good.
Filming started shortly after Gaeul reminded every one of the plot—you were all free to improvise basically everything. You sat down on the couch near Kihyun, leaning against his shoulder. His arm slid underneath your back as his hand let itself rest at the slight curve of your waist.
Even if you didn’t view Kihyun romantically, you couldn’t help but blush a little.
The little roleplay went fine for the most part, you acted like the ‘mediating mother’ who didn’t necessarily hate the boyfriend while the father and brothers hated him.
It was fun for the most part. Though throughout the roleplay, you could notice a strange tension rising between Yohan and Mingi. You began to watch them nervously as they faked argued. It was started to feel a bit too real with the words they were using.
“And how can you even be good for her—?” Yohan started.
“—Hey, Hey, you act like I’m ten!” Hyojin interrupted.
“Yeah, you’re so controlling,” Mingi chuckled. “What makes you the one who gets to choose for her?”
“Because—!”
“—this so annoying, she’s not worth this hassle. what if I take your mom instead will you still be this angry? She’s hotter anyway.”
Everyone blinked as they stared at Mingi. It took a second before Kihyun realized he should act as he immediately stood up and began spouting some nonsense while you could only stare. You felt hot as you couldn’t even come up with a line but only bury your face in your sweater.
You’d kill him later.
Shooting ended not even twenty minutes later. None of the staff seemed to be mentioning the whole ‘she’s hotter’ sentence. You wondered if they would just edit that out as you handed over the mic to a staff member. Each member looked ready to go home and eat—you included.
You need to take your wig off however so you began walking to the hairstylist when a hand grabbed your sweater and tugged you away. You didn’t even get a chance to scream before you were slammed into a storage closet.
It didn’t take a genius to know who had dragged you here.
“Mingi—can you be a bit gentler next time?” You whispered, sighing softly.
“Sorry, sorry.” Mingi gave you a cheeky grin before slowly guiding you rest your back against the wall. “But you look too good right now… I want to kiss you.”
You blushed slightly. “You look good too.” You shyly whispered, glancing up at him. Your hands slowly reached up and rest on his shoulders, gripping at his jacket before pulling him further down. Mingi didn’t need to be told twice as he eagerly kissed you, his hands grasping your waist.
The kiss was intense, Mingi kissing you like he wanted to eat you. His fingers dug into the waistband of your pants before managing to tug them down. They pooled around your feet as your eyes widen in shock. You pulled away from the kiss and stared up at him in shock.
“In.. in here?!” You whisper-yelled.
Mingi hummed, undeterred as he began pressing light kisses on your neck. “Just this once. I won’t ask for something like this again. Please, Noona?”
Your body shivered at the title, a strangled gasp leaving your throat as he teased the tip of your cock. Wait when did he pull down your underwear? Any part of you that didn’t want to do this was pushed down at the immediate pleasure of him teasing your cock.
No way you can wait until you get home now.
“Okay… just this once.” You whispered.
Mingi immediately began unbuckling his jeans with speed you thought was impossible. He still kissed and nipped at your neck—still careful to not leave any marks. You bit your bottom lip to muffle any moans as he gripped your thighs, lifting you up.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, nervous for how this would work. Wasn’t he supposed to prep you? But he was quite big, how long was he supposed to prep you for?
As you tried to calm yourself down, you felt his cock rub against yours. He had pulled up your sweater to show off your stomach. You shuddered and glanced down to see him line his cock right on top of yours.
“What’s this..?” You whispered, gasping as he began to slowly rub against you. “I thought you… were gonna put it in.”
“In here?” He asked, an incredulous expression on his face. “No way, not for your first time. We can get off like this. Just let me lead, Noona.” You blushed again as you meekly nodded.
His hands slid up to your waist as he pressed his body fully against yours. Your cock was now firmly against his—unable to slip away. Mingi pressed a soft kiss on your collarbone before pulling away just a bit to see your face.
“I’ll make it quick… so they don’t get suspicious.” He said, though you could tell that he would’ve dragged this out if there wasn’t the threat of getting caught. “Don’t make a sound, I don’t want anyone hearing you.”
It was slow at first. His hips bucked forward as your toes curled, his thicker cock dwarfed yours as they rubbed together. It burned a bit as there was no lube to make the friction smoother. Mingi seemed to notice this as he spit into his hand and rubbed it against both cocks. You tried not to be grossed out.
Sex was messy anyway.
He started out slow before speeding up. You almost wished he actually fucked you. This must’ve been how he usually fucks anyway. The tight grip on your waist as he slammed forward, your body shaking from the force.
The pre-cum leaking from your cock began to coat both cocks, allowing for an easier friction. Your voice was beginning to get louder as you buried your face into his neck, clawing at the jacket for some type of purchase.
“I bet you’re tight… so tight, Noona. Next time, I wanna fuck your pussy, can I? Can I, Noona?” He whispered, into your ear, chuckling when you only answered with a high pitched moan. “Do you like that? Calling your hole a pussy?”
His hips suddenly stilled as you cried in disappointment. “C’mon, Noona. I’m doing all the work… you can answer my question. Do you like it?”
You whined before nodding your head.
“Ah, ah, use your words. You’re an adult.”
“So mean…”
“What was that, Noona? You want me to stop?”
“No, no! I…” you whined, your cock aching for release. “I like it.. please I wanna cum.”
“See~” he cooed, “that wasn’t too hard. You’re such a good girl, Noona.”
His nails dig into your skin as he slammed his hips up, your cocks rubbing together once more. Your moans immediately leave you as you feel yourself reach your peak. You cum not soon after, Mingi’s name leaving your lips in a pathetic whimper.
Mingi follows right after, biting down on your bare shoulder. Luckily the cum didn’t reach the sweater. It coated both of your stomachs as he loosened his grip on you. You both breathed heavily as he glanced over at you.
“You really are hotter.” He said, a slight smirk on his lips.
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
After that whole storage closet incident, you and Mingi have finally felt a bit more comfortable sex wise. In short, you guys were humping each other practically every night. Which led tonight: you were sitting on his lap, wearing only your boxers with a t-shirt.
You had been watching him gaming when he suddenly asked for a reward for beating his high score. You refused at first since you had wanted to go to bed an hour ago but he had begged you to watch him play.
It only took one puppy dog pout before you conceded and allowed him to choose a reward.
Of course the reward was you grinding on top of him. Your ass was directly over his dick. You could tell he wasn’t wearing any boxers underneath his sweatpants. It began to harden beneath your ass as you slowly grind on top of him.
“You’re so sexy, Hyung. I’m not sure if I can take this anymore,” Mingi groaned, reaching over to grasp your waist. You shivered.
“You.. don’t have to… I’m ready.”
Mingi blinked. “Really..? I can..?”
Your hips stopped as you blushed slightly, nodding your head. “Yeah… humping each other is fun but I wanna feel you.. i..inside me.” You thought you’d die of embarrassment.
But that almost seemed to send Mingi over the edge as he immediately flipped your positions to where you were laying on the couch. You stared up at him shock as he pulled down your boxers, your cock flopping free.
You couldn’t help but feel excited at how eager he was. You shyly opened your legs wider so Mingi could have easy access. Just as he was about to kiss your stomach, your phone began ringing.
You immediately shot up, ignoring Mingi’s whines as you reached for your phone. People hardly called you so you always immediately checked. It took a second for the name to fully register but when it did, a grin pulled on your lips.
홍가람
Hong Garam.
Three years ago
Mingi was a bit camera shy when it came to variety shows. He hardly looked into the camera as he just let the other members talk until he was called upon. Because of that, his gaze was focused on the members—mainly you, really.
So he noticed how you practically froze up when Yohan accidentally brushed against you. He’d never seen you react like that before. If he wasn’t on camera he would’ve said something but he decided to do something less disruptive.
Because everyone was standing in a huddle than a line, it was easy for him to slip between Kihyun and Doha to get to you. He stopped though—wanting to make it seem like he was just shifting around. After a minute or so, he moved again, gently pushing you further to the right so he could fit between you and Yohan.
Yohan didn’t seem to notice at all while you glanced over at Mingi, a confused look on your face. But Mingi didn’t look at you, knowing that if he did he would’ve fold immediately. He just stared at the host—pretending he was paying attention the entire time.
If he did glance over at you, he would’ve noticed the slight blush on your cheeks as you smiled to yourself.
The whole idea for a family drama thing was definitely from SKZ lmao. Leading heavily into feminization but Mingi has multiple kinks, just wait and see
Tag list: @tehyunnie @euthymiko @iwishtobeacrow @onementally-unstabel-kid @jaxyy219 @hoshimochicchi @honey-valentin3 @bensontrechic @ofclyde @star-3214 @love-kha1 @chill-guy-but-cooler @tomoeroi @the-ultimate-librarian @mooncarvers-world @mello-life25 @yuzuukix @smellwell @remdayz @cherry-blossoms-187 @kiiyoooo @secretivemessenger @me-when-life @bangbangdevotee @bangchansdirty-slut @chaevvonders @jjsmeowthie @diamondnightsky23 @1-800-darktea @anchoredphoenix
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onmyyan · 5 months ago
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Yandere DC Purge Au pt 2
A/N: Yandere themes, fem reader, canon typical violence, bonus points if you know the Jerome I'm referring to at the end 😩🤟🏽 feedback welcome
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Booted feet hit the pavement rapidly, your breath comes out in pants as you book it through Gothams streets. (H/c) Hair clung to your face in ringlets, you were soaked but the heat of adrenaline kept you warm. The night was in full swing with screams echoing throughout the night, you curse under your breath ignoring the urge to help those people, you had to save yourself first.
A large imposing man was wrangling someone into his car, a gun in his hand he looks around wildly, he sees you coming and takes aim before firing, the first bullet wizzes past your cheek, the second one catches you in the neck, you roll your eyes, ignoring the man and the already healing wound, the bullet gets pushed out of your skin hitting the wet ground with a clang. You're fast, enhanced speed allowing you to book it across Gotham much swifter than a normal human being.
Bruce is about a block away from where your tracker last pinged, Tim diligently searched for the signal while Dick, Jason, and Damian followed on foot. They navigate the streets fluidly, a testament to their knowledge of their City. Your keen sense of hearing alerts you to a massive gathering of people coming up, it sounds like some sort of debaucherous street party? As you come upon the crowd you notice people in purge masks grinding against each other, you can't help but grin, this was the perfect way to lose them.
Music blared from six foot speakers, a makeshift stage had been built in the middle of the street, some people were chained to others, dazed looks on their faces as they danced with their captors. You took a moment to think, you knew these bastards well, well enough to know they were probably tracking you, patting yourself down, your fingers catch on a small circular device under your right shoulder, something so innocuous you wouldn't have noticed it if you weren't looking, sucking your teeth, you remove your jacket with finesse, you pick a stranger at random, everyone here was drugged out and blissful, so it wasn't hard to drape the garment over a random girl's shoulders.
Maneuvering through the busy crowd was easy as you appeared to be the only sober one there.
Bruce curses under his breath as Tim alerts him of your location, you were asking for trouble, a street party on purge night? What were you thinking?!
Damian arrives first, the crowd is too consumed in their pleasure to notice the vigilante, his hooded figure cuts through the crowds like a warm knife through butter, Tim was feeding him information on your location through his earpiece, his face was set in a glare, he hated the idea of all these scumbags surrounding you, tainting you, his grip on the hilt of his sword never waivers.
Dick is close behind, his eyes scanning the crowd for your features, every (h/c) haired woman he saw made his heart pick up, but none of them were you.
Jason doesn't bother with niceties, he shoves his way through the crowd, pushing anyone and everyone out of his way, "(y/n)!" He yells over the pulsing music, "Don't make this harder than it has to be kitty."
Meanwhile you watch them from the shadows of the stage, you needed a distraction, something that would give you a real shot at escaping, so you trip a burley guy making him crash into a group of men, when he turns to glare at you, you point to the man beside him in blame, that's all it takes for the violence to break out.
The three Wayne men near you couldn't simply watch the riot, despite their mission, you, they had a job to do, so they go about wrangling the now rowdy crowd, and you use the mayhem to slip away into the night.
You don't stop running until the sounds of the party fade, replaced by the usual chaos of the purge, you pant, hands on your knees as you lean against the grime covered alley wall. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears, blood rushing as your body tries to acclimate to the adrenaline coursing through your veins.
"Well, what's a pretty thing like you doing in a town like this?" A male voice questions from the entrance to the alley, your head snaps up to meet his electric green gaze, you recognized his infamous smile anywhere, having thrown his ass into Arkham more times than you could count you can't help but sigh at the sight of the up and coming kingpin.
"Fuck do you want Jerome?"
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rose24207 · 1 month ago
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The Triangle’s Mercy
Summary: You defy the rules of life and death, sparing Player 333 on the field and pulling your gun on another player in the dormitory, leaving him questioning why a guard would protect him.
Genre: angst, dark, survival
TW: death, blood, guns, fights, the games in general, not 100% accurate
A/N: let me know if you want more of that! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!
Masterlist
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You stood in the sniper station high above the field, peering down through a small window as the players shuffled into position. It was your assigned post for the first game, Red Light, Green Light. From here, you had a perfect view of every player.
Your job was simple: if the doll detected movement, you would receive the player number through your earpiece. Once detected, you would pull the trigger without hesitation. That was the rule. No exceptions.
The field was eerily silent except for the nervous murmurs of the 456 contestants. Among them, your eyes caught Player 333, Myung-gi.
He looked calm but his hands were shaking, his feet barely steady beneath him. There was nothing special about him—just another face among the desperate masses. But something about the way he clung to hope, even in the face of calmness, struck a chord in you.
A beep drew out to signal the start of the game.
“Mugunghwa kkochi piotsseumnida.”
You held your breath. The field froze.
Your earpiece buzzed.
“Player 117. Movement detected.”
Your scope locked onto the target. A man in his mid-thirties stood near the back, his left foot trembling slightly as he struggled to balance.
Your gaze was sharp as you fired.
The crack of your rifle echoed across the field. The man fell instantly, a crimson stain spreading across his chest.
The song resumed, and the doll’s head swiveled back toward the trees. The remaining contestants hesitated, glancing at the fallen man, before cautiously moving forward again.
“Player 335 Movement detected.”
Another shot, another body collapsed. The doll’s sensors worked quickly, and you kept up with the pace, eliminating each target as the system flagged them.
The ground was slowly littered with bodies, some still, others leaking trails of red into the dirt.
Then came the voice of Player 456, shouting above the chaos
“Everybody, stop moving! Just freeze!”
His instructions spread like wildfire. The remaining players obeyed, standing still like statues. The field grew eerily quiet again.
You scanned the group for anyone who moved. You listened for instructions but none came.
As the game continued, your earpiece buzzed again.
“Player 333. Movement detected.”
You froze.
The scope of your rifle shifted automatically, locking onto Player 333. The young man, trembling violently, stood in the middle of the field. He had stumbled slightly, his foot dragging across the dirt. His face was pale, his lips quivering as if he was seconds from screaming.
He knew he moved.
You placed your finger on the trigger.
But something made you pause.
You were supposed to shoot.
But you didn’t.
Something inside you stopped you. Maybe it was the terror on his face or the way his chest heaved as he realized his mistake. Whatever it was, you couldn’t pull the trigger.
The doll’s scanners shifted, the moment passed, and Myung-gi froze again, acknowledging the fact to how close he had come to death.
He wasn’t the only one confused. Far below, Player 230, Thanos, watched him. His sharp eyes narrowed as he realized what had just happened: Myung-gi had moved, but he was still alive.
The game ended with a beep of the clock. The surviving players were herded back to the dormitory, their faces pale with shock. Bodies were dragged from the field, their screams and cries of mercy now replaced with an eerie silence.
The players sat or stood near the rows of towering bunk beds, their expressions a mix of fear, anger, and grief. You were stationed by the door, your rifle slung over your shoulder. The cold metal walls of the room seemed to amplify every whisper, every muffled sob.
But your focus remained on Player 333.
He sat on a lower bunk, staring at his hands. Across from him, Thanos approached, his face dark with suspicion.
“You,” Thanos exclaimed, crouching down to meet Myung-gi’s eye level. “You moved during the game. I saw it. Why aren’t you dead?”
Myung-gi blinked, startled. “What? No, I didn’t—”
“Don’t lie to me!” Thanos growled, grabbing his collar. “The guards shot everyone else. Why not you?”
“I don’t know!” Myung-gi snapped, his voice shaky. “Maybe I didn’t move as much as you think—”
Thanos slammed him against the bed frame, rattling the metal bars. “You’re lying! You’re cheating somehow!”
The commotion drew the attention of nearby players, who watched nervously but kept their distance. You descended from your position by the doors, rifle in hand, and approached them.
“Break it up,” you ordered, your voice cold and sharp through the modulator.
Thanos looked up at you, his grip still on Myung-gi. “This one’s a fraud! He’s—”
“I said, break it up.”
Your rifle shifted, the barrel pointing directly at Thanos. The gesture was subtle but enough to make him freeze. Slowly, he released Myung-gi, his hands raising in surrender.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Thanos muttered, backing away cautiously.
Myung-gi remained pressed against the bed frame, his breathing heavy as he watched the exchange. His gaze flickered between you and Thanos, confusion evident in his expression.
Why had you intervened? Why was a guard protecting him?
You didn’t offer an explanation. Instead, you took a step closer to Thanos, your rifle still aimed at him. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Thanos nodded quickly, retreating into the crowd of players. The tension dissolved as he disappeared, leaving you and Myung-gi alone.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, hesitantly, Myung-gi asked, “Why… why did you do that?”
You stared at him through the mask, your heart pounding. You couldn’t answer, not without revealing too much. Instead, you simply turned and walked away, your boots echoing against the cold, metal floor.
Myung-gi watched you go, still confused but alive. And that was enough for now.
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Thank you for reading!
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ginnsbaker · 21 days ago
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All Of Your Pieces (11 - Nightmares)
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Chapter Summary: “Trust me, I didn’t go easy on her,” Clint replied gruffly. “Her brother came to her rescue. I blinked, and they were both gone.” You frowned, not entirely sure if you could take Clint's word for it. You chastised yourself for not being more vigilant during the encounter. Next time you faced off against Wanda Maximoff, you promised yourself, it would end differently—she would be subdued at the very least. Her powers were admittedly terrifying, and you couldn't help but wonder how your seniors intended to handle her capture. 
Or if perhaps she posed such a threat that she would be better off dead.
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 3.4k | Chapter Tags: None
A/N: Welcome to Part 2, To Build A Home, or basically the history of Y/N and Wanda before Westview, starting at the end of Ultron. Most of Part 2 will be told from Y/N's perspective. Part 3 will be Wanda's. Without further ado... // More author's notes here.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
The place smelled like rust and copper—of blood. The warehouse was enormous and maze-like in its structure, and somewhere in the distance, metal groaned like a wounded animal. You had just put two of Ulysses Klaue's men down—clean shots and no hesitation. Their bodies lay cooling on the concrete as you readied yourself to confront anyone else who stood in your way.
You tapped your earpiece. “Nat, Clint, what's your position?”
Static replied, a white noise that filled your head like ocean waves crashing inside a seashell. 
You tapped the communicator, harder this time. 
“Do you copy?” More static.
And, weirdly enough, more silence. Just a minute ago, the area was crawling with hostiles. Now, you could hear your own muted steps. You were always light on your feet, just as you were trained to be.
You glanced over your shoulder. The two men you took out were gone. The floor where they fell was clean, no blood, no bodies. You blinked hard, but the scene didn't change.
“What the—” you muttered to yourself before you took a step and the ground beneath you suddenly felt like it was made of quicksand.
Before you could react, the floor gave way entirely. You plunged downward, swallowed by the very ground you stood on. The sensation was disorienting—a free fall through darkness that seemed to stretch on forever. Your stomach lurched as you tried to grasp at anything, but your fingers closed around empty air.
Then, as suddenly as the fall began, it ended. You landed softly, as if the air itself cushioned your descent. You found yourself standing in a bright corridor with white walls and sterile white lights—nothing that indicated a warehouse. The air smelled of antiseptic and faintly of lavender.
A distant cry erupted down the haul—a child's wail. The sound of it dug into your bones and you followed its source because you had to, because it was pulling you like a magnet draws steel.
You walked down the corridor, vaguely unaware that you had none of your weapons with you, the armor you donned replaced by a white hospital gown. Doors lined the walls, each identical, each a possible gateway to something you weren't sure you wanted to face. The cry came again, more urgent this time. It was coming from the last door on the left. 
Taking a deep breath, you turned the cold knob and pushed the door open.
Inside was a small hospital room bathed in harsh fluorescent light. On the bed lay a woman and  recognized her immediately. Your mother, but younger, frail and exhausted. Her eyes were closed, and her hands rested gently on her swollen belly.
A nurse glided quietly around, checking the beeping instruments, scribbling on a clipboard. She glanced up and looked directly at you, but it was as if she didn't see you at all.
Your mother stirred, her eyes fluttering open. “Is he okay?” she asked weakly.
The nurse smiled reassuringly. “You're doing fine. Just rest.”
Your heart thudded, the hairs on your arms rising without your consent. This was the day—you realized—the day everything changed. The day you were born, and your twin brother wasn’t.
A doctor entered the room, his expression serious. He whispered something to the nurse, and they both looked solemn. Your mother noticed. “What's wrong?” she demanded.
The doctor sighed. “I'm sorry, but one of them didn’t make it.”
Your mother’s face twisted in anguish. “No... no, that can't be.”
She looked down at her belly, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Which one?”
“The boy,” the doctor replied softly.
A raw, wrenching sob broke from her. “It should have been her,” she cried bitterly. “I wanted a son. Not... this.”
Something inside you shattered into a million pieces. You wanted to reach out to her, to tell her you were sorry, to convince her it wasn’t your fault. But you couldn't move, rooted to the spot by an invisible force.
The room started to blur, its edges bleeding out like ink on damp paper. You blinked, and suddenly you found yourself in a darker corridor, its walls creeping closer with each heavy step you took. 
You heard footsteps behind you—a slow, deliberate pace that sent a chill down your spine. You quickened your stride, but the footsteps matched your speed. You broke into a run, your breath coming in ragged gasps.
Rounding a corner, you slammed into a figure. Stumbling backward, you looked up to see your twin—the shadowy figure that resembled you but wasn't you. Its eyes were hollow as if they had never fully formed.
“Why did you take everything?” It spoke.
“I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you whispered.
It leaned closer to you.
“Yes, you did.”
Voices overlapped, a cacophony of accusations and doubts and things you believed in and kept running away from.
“You're just a thief.”
“A murderer before you were even born.”
“Who's the real villain here?”
You clapped your hands over your ears and screamed at the top of your lungs but no sound came out.
The ground shook, cracks racing across the floor, chunks tumbling into the dark below. You struggled to stay upright.
“It should’ve been her.”
“Sickly girl.”
“What a waste.”
“Y/N!”
A jolt ran through you as someone shook your shoulder. Instinct took over. Your hand flew to your sidearm, drawing it in one fluid motion as you spun around.
The shot rang out. 
“Whoa! It’s me!” Clint exclaimed, ducking just in time as your pistol aimed where his head had been a split second before, the bullet embedding itself in a stack of crates behind him.
Horror washed over you as you realized what you’d almost done. “Clint... I...”
He retrieved your pistol from the floor, hesitated, then handed it back to you butt-first. “It’s okay, kid. You weren’t the only one.”
“You didn’t even read the briefing, did you?” Clint smirked, handing you a bottle of water. You took a long gulp, wiping your lips with your thumb when you were done. No matter how much you drank, you still felt parched. Glancing around, you spotted Steve and Tony whispering. Judging from the look on their faces, you could tell that what happened to you also happened to them.
“What is she? Some kind of witch or something?” you groaned, massaging your temple. 
“Steve sent us the profiles on the Maximoff twins well before we boarded the Quinjet. It was all in there,” Clint added, sitting down beside you.
You kept quiet, avoiding his eyes. You rarely did your homework before a mission—why would this time be any different?
“That’s exactly why you walked into her trap,” he snapped, taking your silence as an answer. “Knowing your enemy is basic, whether you’ve got a god on your side or not.”
You nodded, taking the ribbing with good grace. 
“Maybe if you hadn't gone so easy on her,” you retorted, leaning back against the curved bulkhead of the jet. You briefly closed your eyes, only to snap them open immediately, not wanting to be haunted by the persistent vision. You wondered how long the after effects of the Maximoff witch would last.
Clint chuckled, shaking his head in a way that was unmistakably patronizing. You hated when he got like this. Hated how your random outbursts never affected him.
“Trust me, I didn’t go easy on her,” Clint replied gruffly. “Her brother came to her rescue. I blinked, and they were both gone.”
You frowned, not entirely sure if you could take Clint's word for it. You chastised yourself for not being more vigilant during the encounter. Next time you faced off against Wanda Maximoff, you promised yourself, it would end differently—she would be subdued at the very least. Her powers were admittedly terrifying, and you couldn't help but wonder how your seniors intended to handle her capture. 
Or if perhaps she posed such a threat that she would be better off dead.
“What did you see in there?” Clint suddenly asked, snapping you out of your thoughts.
You shrugged, not wanting to revisit that experience even in your mind. The mere thought of it sickened you. Only someone truly evil would subject another to such a nightmare for tactical advantage. Physical violation was one thing, but to invade the mind? That was a trick only a truly depraved person would consider. 
“Nothing,” you replied curtly.
“Talking can help, you know?” he offered gently, but he was already rising from his seat, giving you the room you seemed to need.
“Maybe that works for old-timers,” you tossed back. “Never worked for me.”
When Ultron ultimately went down, it felt far from victory. Survivors moved like ghosts, blank-faced and aimless in their direction, clutching what’s left of their former lives. You stood there, surrounded by twisted metal and smoldering ruins—another battle won, another piece of yourself lost. 
Your eyes landed on Wanda. She perched on a heap of debris, crimson energy fading from her fingertips like the last wisps of smoke. She stared into nothingness, eyes as clear as shore but with nothing there to find.
You knew that look. The emptiness when half of you is gone. Both of you were twins once. Now, both alone. You never got to know the boy you lived with for nine months because he never made it outside your mother’s womb. But just knowing he was there, that he existed, left a void that would never be suffused. You’d always feel incomplete, forever wondering if you truly deserved to be the one who lived.
You understood her pain, at least in an abstract, cataloged kind of way. But empathy was a luxury you couldn't afford, not with the bitterness festering inside you. Ever since she got into your head and forced your past to rear its ugly head, you haven’t been able to properly sleep for days on end. You fundamentally opposed Steve's choice to collaborate with the Maximoffs, believing they belonged in a containment cell, not on the field. You saw how Wanda fought off Ultron’s droids. She was extremely dangerous—maybe even more so when she felt so strongly.
The quinjet touched down at the Avengers facility, its engines winding down with a low whine. You disembarked with the other quietly, dirt and grime clinging to your skin and suits like mold. 
Steve called everyone to the landing pad. He looked over the team—bruised and battered, yet standing. Morale was low, but Steve saw this as an opportunity for growth. You preferred Tony's approach. When things went sideways, he'd hit the bottles and maybe blow off steam by blowing up a few empty depots. His way of coping suited you better than Captain America's endless supply of pep talks.
“Good work out there,” he said, though his voice lacked its usual conviction. “Get some rest. We'll debrief in the morning.”
He turned to you as the group began to disperse. “Could you show Wanda to her quarters? They're next to yours.”
You met his eyes and scowled. The nerve of him to ask that. Without a word, you turned on your heel and headed down the corridor toward your room.
“Hey!” Steve's voice followed you. “I'm talking to you!”
“Let it go,” Natasha murmured to him. You caught it, just barely, over the pounding in your ears.
“That's not acceptable,” Steve argued.
“She's been through hell,” Natasha interrupted. “We all have. Give her some space.”
Wanda stood where you'd left her, eyes fixed on the floor, as if she wished it would swallow her whole. She hadn't reacted to the exchange, lost in her own head.
Steve ran a hand over his face, the first signs of weariness lining his forehead. “Fine. Can you take Wanda to her room, then?”
Natasha nodded. “Come on, Wanda,” she said, tilting her head toward the direction they needed to go, the same one you disappeared into a moment ago. “Let's get you settled.”
Wanda allowed herself to be led away. Steve watched them go before his thoughts returned to you and he shook his head; there were battles worth fighting, and this wasn't one of them.
In your room, you slammed the door shut, making a sharp sound that hurt your own ears. It’s exactly as you left it—sterile, impersonal, a place where nothing bad had ever happened because nothing had ever happened at all. 
You paced the length of the room, muscles coiled tight, every nerve ending tingling with restless energy even though you were sure earlier that you had given it your all on the battlefield. Steve has sided with a known terrorist, and now he's brought her to the doorstep. This compound might never have felt like home, but still, it was your sanctuary—a place to let your guard down once in a while.
A few minutes later, after you had been sitting on your bed, staring at the blank wall, there was a soft knock at your door.
“Go away,” you muttered.
The door swung open abruptly, and you let yourself collapse onto your back near the foot of the bed with a sigh.
“Steve's worried about you,” Natasha stated, peering down at you as you gazed up at her upturned figure.
“Steve worries about everything.”
“He asked me to check in.”
“Consider me checked.”
She studied you for a moment. “She's not your enemy anymore, you know?”
“Tell that to Banner.”
“People change.”
You shrugged. “Not that much.”
Natasha crossed her arms and then sat beside you. There were a few beats of silence, a moment for both of you to gauge each other before you sat up and looked over at her.
“She gave you nightmares, too, right? Even if you never told me what they were, I doubt they were pretty.”
Natasha's face remained docile, not betraying any sign that she was merely keeping up appearances or that she secretly despised Wanda too. You envied her control over her emotions, how she concealed herself from the world while still managing to be a good friend without restraint.
“Worst I've had in years,” she admitted. “But she was on the other side then. Doing what she thought was right. Fighting for what she believed in.”
You scoffed. “That's supposed to make it okay?”
“No,” she said softly. “But maybe understandable.”
You didn’t have a comeback for that. You knew Natasha had a point. You’d do everything you could to neutralize an opponent, and the twins simply did the same thing.
“We can't fault her forever for surviving,” she continued. “For doing what she had to do.”
You didn't say anything. Admitting she was right—like she always seemed to be—felt too much like giving in. You've never won an argument with Natasha, and it was both infuriating and impressive. Each time you tried to best her, it ended the same way: with you respecting her even more for her relentless logic.
She glanced at you. “You don't have to forgive her. No one's asking you to. But dwelling on things that are over? That's a prison of your own making.”
“Easy for you to say,” you snapped. You knew you sounded juvenile, but you couldn't hold back. "Not all of us can just flip a switch and turn it off.”
She gave a small, mirthless laugh. “There's no switch. Just choices. Every damn day.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“It means you can distract yourself if you have to. Find something else to focus on. Just so you don't have to think about it all the time.”
“And if I don't want to forget?”
“Then don't,” she said softly. “But don't let it consume you either.”
She stood up, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from her suit. “Get some rest.”
As she made for the door, you couldn’t help but fire off one last parting shot. “You can bet I won’t forgive her. Not anytime soon, anyway.”
Natasha paused but didn't turn around.
“Thanks for the therapy session,” you said, laying down again and rolling onto your side with your back to her.
You expected her to leave after that, but instead, she lingered, sharing an unwarranted piece of information.
“Wanda's in the room next to yours.”
“I know,” you said, getting up to close the door after her.
The walls of the quarters were supposed to be fortress thick, but when you dragged yourself out of bed for a midnight raid on the fridge, the sliver of light bleeding from under Wanda's door was impossible to ignore. So, she was awake. You paused, your gaze fixed on the thin glow, suspicion worming its way through your thoughts. Was she plotting something in there, alone with her powers at this ungodly hour? You shook your head slightly, dismissing the creeping paranoia. If Wanda decided to turn on them, well, that was Steve's headache to deal with. With a shrug, you turned away, your mind settling back on the rumble in your stomach as you headed towards the kitchen.
You assembled the basics: bread, peanut butter, jelly. The ritual to your favorite snack was almost therapeutic—the smooth glide of the knife spreading peanut butter thick, jelly thin, just the way you liked it. You grabbed another knife to cut off the crusts, a habit you never quite outgrew.
As you began slicing the edges, a figure materialized through the wall beside you.
“Jesus!” you yelped, the knife slipping and nearly nicking your finger. Your heart leapt into your throat as you stumbled back.
“My apologies,” Vision said.
You took a deep breath, clutching your chest. “Could you not do that? Ever heard of using a door like a normal person?”
He tilted his head, considering your words. “You are correct. I should adhere to conventional modes of entry. I will take note of that next time.”
“Great,” you mumbled, turning back to your sandwich with a huff. Your hands trembled slightly as you resumed cutting. It was still strange to hear J.A.R.V.I.S’ voice coming out of this being’s mouth.
Vision stepped fully into the kitchen. “Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Vision.”
You eyed him warily. “I know who you are.”
“May I inquire about your culinary creation?” Vision asked.
“It's a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”
He stepped closer, examining it with keen interest. “The coloration is intriguing. I haven't encountered many purple foods in my lifetime.”
You raised an eyebrow. “You've been alive for, what, three days? Not exactly a lifetime.”
A subtle smile crossed his face. “An accurate assessment.”
You chuckled softly. “Grape jelly. A classic. You should try it sometime.”
“Not sure if I could,” he replied. “But perhaps I will.”
Vision hovered. The silence stretched just long enough to become awkward. You were too spaced out to bother breaking it. 
“Speaking of food,” he began, “Miss Maximoff hasn’t eaten. Nothing in over twelve hours.”
You were about to take your first bite, but the mention of Wanda left a bitter taste in your mouth. 
“And why is that my problem?”
“Given that her quarters are adjacent to yours, I thought you might be concerned,” Vision said.
“Concerned? About the person who messed with my head? Hard pass.”
Vision regarded you with those unblinking eyes. “Holding onto resentment can be detrimental to one's well-being.”
“Did you read that in a fortune cookie?”
He seemed unfazed. “I simply thought informing you would be appropriate. Miss Maximoff appears... isolated.”
“Not my issue,” you grumbled, but the image of Wanda alone flashed through your mind. Despite yourself, you felt a pang of sympathy.
Vision nodded slowly. “Very well. If you'll excuse me.” 
He turned to leave, this time opting for the doorway instead of phasing through the wall. You watched him go, a sour twist in your gut.
“Wait,” you called out before you could stop yourself.
He did, looking back at you expectantly.
You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Look, just... take her something to eat. Here.” You shoved the sandwich plate toward him.
He glanced down at the offering. “It might be more meaningful if you delivered it yourself.”
“Yeah, that's not happening.”
He accepted the plate. “I will relay the gesture.”
“Don’t,” you rushed out. “I mean, don’t tell her it’s from me.”
Vision appeared to hesitate, but acquiesced with a nod. 
“Great,” you said, already regretting the impulse. “Gotta run.” You grabbed your jacket from the back of the chair. 
“Are you going out at this hour?” Vision asked.
You shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. Might as well own the night.”
“Do be careful,” he advised. “The city can be unpredictable after dark.”
You managed a faint smirk. “Unpredictable is where I thrive.”
You were due for a night out anyway.
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darlingdekarios · 1 year ago
Text
hide and seek.
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rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 5,555 content: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader, reader is referred to as a codename "Freya" and related nickname from Ghost, smut [fingering - receiving, unprotected p in v, mentions of stomach bulge, creampie, oral - receiving], kink(s) [size, outdoors, slight degradation, praise, squirting, cum eating], not beta/proof read deal w/ it
during a training exercise, the lines between hunter and hunted become blurred, and the feelings that have been buried inside claw their way to the surface.
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"You can't hide forever, Freya."
Eight hours and fourteen minutes into a training exercise with Taskforce 101, and the two men who remained were starting to question if the words rumbling through their ear piece were correct. Dropped in the mountains within a ten mile radius of one another, it was a game of hide and seek … each of you taking on both roles simultaneously as you tried to remain hidden while taking out your opponents.
It was an honor system - survival of the fittest. Price, of course, at a camp at the base of the mountain, sending a team out to retrieve those who were picked off. Now it had dwindled - only the three of you remained, and the comms channels had been particularly quiet as time ticked by, each of you convinced you'd prove yourself top of the food chain eventually.
But Ghost's voice had interrupted the quiet, your focus broken for a moment as you halted all of your movements, waiting for the forest to respond to his voice. When nothing close to you alerted you dropped your own voice lower to quip back at his taunting, adjusting your position where you currently crouched.
"Just have to outlive you, LT."
"And Gaz. Don't forget about Gaz."
A smile spread across your lips, backpack sliding off your shoulders and to the ground quietly in an effort to increase your movement radius. Your target was well within sight now, the figure hunched over a jet boil that was working to make him a hot meal without smoke.
"Oh, don't worry. I didn't forget about Gaz."
"Well, I'm still here, so you've still gotta worry about me finding you first," the named man finally responded, his voice echoed from the earpiece and from the figure in front of you, carried between the trees as he gave no effort to hide himself, thinking he was without company.
You were moving forward now, using trunks and bushes for cover, stalking toward prey that remained blissfully unaware that its downfall was close enough to see puffs of cold breath from them.
"Not for long."
From there, it was silence from you, any further conversation a threat to giving away your location the closer you drew to him. You could hear the uptick of worry in his voice immediately when he responded, his focus on dinner shattered as he stood again. There was no possibility of him fleeing now, not with hot equipment to turn off and put away. Instead, he'd have to wait for the inevitable.
"What's that mean?" he questioned, head searching around his perimeter desperately in hope to find you before you could reach him. When his question went unanswered the frustration in his voice increased, a subtle shake indicating he was aware of his mistakes. This game was over for him … now he only needed to wait. "Hey, what's that mean?"
"That doesn't sound good, Gaz."
You were trying to ignore the tone Ghost used now as he spoke … the subtle amusement lingering under his tone only spurring you along more. It was over for Gaz before he had a real chance to react.
"Freya, what does that … FUCK!"
His shout was muffled into your hand as you slid up behind him and covered his mouth, a victorious smirk covering your face. Reaching into the pocket of his jacket you activated a GPS tracker to signify his pickup location, moving around him to look him face-to-face. He gave you a nod of respect before you hurried back to the trees, replacing your equipment and setting off on your next target.
"That's Gaz out," Price's voice was smooth in the comms, ready to set the match into its final round. "Ghost, Freya, you're all that's left. Try not to play with your food too much."
"Hmm."
You wondered if Ghost had an advantage position now, if he was looking to the trees for evidence of Gaz's retrieval, perhaps hopeful for a tip toward your location. You were eager to ensure he'd receive none.
"No promises."
"Once the sun goes over the mountains, you're alone for the night. No comms. It becomes true survival. Understood?"
"Copy," the two of you spoke in unison and Price dropped out again, returning the two of you to your isolated setting. As you hiked forward you found an eagerness filling your stomach … butterflies fluttering around as the prospect of facing Simon in this setting as the victor for this game set in on you. He could hear the smile you wore on your face as you all but purred into the comms.
"See you soon, Ghost."
The confidence in your voice sent a shiver down his spine - something he found becoming a common occurrence whenever you were around. From behind his mask his lips curved into an amused smile, though his tone indicated no such thing when he spoke.
"We'll see about that."
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"It'll get cold soon, Frey. Once the sun drops over those mountains …"
It had been just under two more hours since you'd taken Gaz out, and things had mostly been silent. Neither of you wanted to outright give away your locations by something as easily avoidable as not remaining silent, so for the most part you had, only responding to Price quickly when he provided time updates.
"If you're worried about a little cold you could always forfeit, Ghost."
The laugh that rumbled in him came through even lower through a microphone like the one you wore now, and while the sound still set all of your nerves ablaze, you wished you could hear it in person. It was a ridiculous offer - Simon Riley had never forfeited in his life and he wouldn't start now, even if it meant sleeping beneath a layer of snow tonight. It was something about him that pulled you in like a magnet, his proven results time and time again securing your unspoken feelings for him.
Feelings you now couldn't afford to focus on with bragging rights of this size at stake. You were well aware of the possibility that Ghost had an eye on you through a scope - he could already be tracking your every move. You were certain that, knowing him, he would be close - he wouldn't allow his last remaining enemy to stray too far.
You still hoped to use that to your advantage, opting to ignore the cockiness in his words.
"Not a chance."
It was only an hour later that the sun was no longer offering any amount of warmth, the last of its gold and orange hues diluted by the beginnings of the night sky.
"Price did say if we're out past sundown we're out for the night."
"You sound scared, Frey. Don't tell me you're afraid of the dark?"
"Not a chance."
Really, you weren't…not now, anyway with every inch of your body burning with the desire to win. You echoed his earlier words to initiate a playful banter the two of you ever really enjoyed alone, inviting him in to another game with the reminder that now, only the two of you remained on the line. Thankfully he took the bait, catching on quickly to what you silently offered.
"You should be…never know what's lurking about…hiding behind a tree, in the shadows."
To his own internal pleasure, the quiet laugh that he allowed to rumble through his chest was joined with your own, the soft sound sending a rush of warmth through his body. Though he'd never admitted aloud - maybe not even fully to himself mentally, in truth - he craved moments like this with you, where your laugh and your casual tone fell easily on his ears like the chirp of birds in the morning.
Instead, he enjoyed his time with you selfishly, the need he felt within him to enjoy more of you buried inside where it would never see the light.
"Could say the same to you, big guy. What's lurking in the shadows around you?"
There was something in your voice that made the hair on his neck stand, something to the tone that piqued his interest further. You were almost purring - he was starting to wonder if Price's request not to play with food was directed entirely at you now. As he focused on your tone, on his surroundings, on taking in the trees around him and desperately trying to ignore the new tightness in his pants, your eyes were on the finish line.
You had slipped free of your boots and socks again, suffering through the cold ground in an effort to quiet yourself further as you stalked your way to him slowly under the cover of darkness. When you could begin to make out details - the pockets on his jacket and pants, the glimmer of zippers as they caught the remaining light, every curve his silhouette offered…you stilled, enjoying the moment.
His breath was visible - heavier than usual. You couldn't help the rush of pride that filled you at even the slightest hint that you had his nerves alight. How many people could say that about Simon Riley? It was a feeling so fulfilling you were almost tempted to bask in it longer, to savor every microsecond it lasted.
But the promise of his reaction was far too enticing to stay hidden for too long, a fact you succumbed to as you silently took more steps toward him.
"Hey, Simon?"
"Hmm?"
"Boo."
Fortunately the ground was soft enough to aid in the jump you sprung into to wrap your legs around his waist from behind, your arms wrapping around his neck and giving the slightest squeeze to accentuate your point. He'd lost.
"Fuck."
"Concede."
When the order was not immediately fulfilled you squeezed ever so slightly harder, only enough to drive it home. This was a fair win. One you'd earned.
But he wasn't hesitating to find a way out…he'd taken an intentional moment to allow you time to bask in your glory - at least, that was better than admitting he just wanted to feel you closer for a moment longer…for as many moments as you'd allow. Regardless of his own wants and completely focused on what would make you happy (though he could already feel it radiating from you), he forced himself to not, a deep breath filling his lungs as you released him.
When you climbed down and he turned to face you, the grin that had spread across your face fell open. In preparation for the dark Simon had already removed his glasses, leaving his sparkling eyes bare for you to see, more of his face exposed now in his balaclava than you'd ever been treated to before.
(Though it was hardly enough. Your curiosity about what would greet you beneath the black fabric grew by the day…by the second now as you made eye contact like you'd never been able to before.)
In the depths of his eyes your own pride was matched, telling you enough about his thoughts on your win that the words could truly go unspoken. He studied you carefully, enjoying the curve to your lips as a coy smirk and how somehow still, despite the pride, a neediness flooded behind it all, something as primal and feral as the forest's inhabitants.
"How long have you been on me?"
"Right after I picked up Gaz, he was trailing you from the southeast."
The mask's fabric shifted confirming the light smile that played on his lips, his eyes burning into yours now. As intense as his gaze was (it always was, why should now be any exception?) you were lost it in, searching for a hint of what he was thinking…what he was feeling. He was an expert at this - at hiding, at interrogating, he could easily pick you apart and have the answers he wanted flowing from you with only a little more effort.
With you, however, it required no intimidation to coax what he wanted from you.
"You could've caught up before sundown, then," it was a simple statement, his eyes not leaving yours as he took a knee on his sleeping pack before you, digging in his bag for a small towel and a fresh pair of socks. He motioned for you to take a seat on the rock he'd set up camp next to, nodding in appreciation when you adhered. "Your pace is faster than that."
You hadn't known him very long - you weren't even technically part of the task force as it stood. It has been almost a year, however…nearly twelve months of knowing the man who now knelt before you, carefully wiping mud from your feet and handling you like you would shatter if he wasn't softer than a hummingbird's feather. You didn't know what to expect of physical contact from him…but this degree of gentleness was certainly not it until this moment.
You thanked him for his delicacy by ensuring your eyes never left his face, eager to meet his gaze again whenever his found you again.
"Could've, yeah," you confirmed when he started to slip the warm socks onto your feet, his attention now nearly fully returned to maintaining eye contact with you. You were aware that with each passing moment your heart was beating faster…even more aware that you couldn't stop it even if you tried. "You could've tried to track me."
"Could've done."
"Why didn't you?"
He was still on his knees in front of you - in fact, there was no sign he intended to move now.
"Wanted to see how long it took you to find me. Wanted to see how you'd approach."
You'd never heard his voice like this - so quiet it offered no disruption to the peaceful mountains around you. Not quiet like he normally was to avoid an enemy, quiet to pinpoint that the words were only for you. As if you needed another reason to be attracted to him - as if the very definition of perfection could get any better.
"Did you find my methods satisfactory?"
The longer his eyes burned into yours the easier it was to ignore the dropping temperatures in the air around you.
"I did."
His praise - even just that was enough to be considered such - struck you to your core. You found yourself speechless, your face burning. Unaware for a moment as one of his hands rested against your knee, uncaring that you probably looked foolish as all you could do now was stare. He was willing to hold your gaze for as long as you offered it - a dangerous fact.
"If you're trying to prove yourself to Price, you don't need t' put yourself at more a risk of injury to do it. Proper footwear is important."
"I'm not proving myself to Price. I'm proving myself to you."
He'd been choosing to ignore the signs from you - opting for the safety of denying what was transpiring between the two of you now for the security it provided. It seemed those days were gone - even the air around you seemed to be pushing the two of you together.
Still, this was a territory he'd convinced himself was forbidden, and in his internal fight as to how to move forward it allowed you a moment of doubt. It was you who spoke again before he got the chance, eager to explain your actions further.
Not that you owed it or he expected it…you needed it now to fill the silence.
"I wanted to hear it from you…that I bested you," he could hear the doubt blossoming on the back of your words - it wasn't like you to share like this, it was much safer to keep things to yourself. But if you did that forever, he would as well…and the reality was, you were more willing to break the unspoken rule with yourself before he was. "I wanted to hear the pride in your voice. To see it in your eyes."
His eyes found yours again as he reached a hand toward your face, hesitating for a moment just centimeters away to give you the chance to slap his hand away, waiting for any action from you that confirmed the doubts ever-present in the back of his mind. Instead, ever so subtly your head leaned closer to his hand, inviting the distance to be closed.
All the signs were there, and now he just had to read them.
He grasped your chin between his fingers and held you gently as he drew closer to you, his free hand reaching up to push the bottom half of his mask up. His lips were more inviting than any you'd seen before - it was a cruelty that he covered them, a gift at the same time to your focus.
(For the record - you'd gladly sacrifice your focus if it meant watching his tongue run across his bottom lip. A momentary lapse of your attention was well worth witnessing the way he invited you in now.)
"Who knew you could be so needy?" he questioned, his tongue swiping across his lips again, finger tapping your chin playfully. That alone sent you clenching around nothing - just that taunting question was enough to fully spiral you into desire. "Why don't you tell me why you kept us out here after dark first?"
Your face was burning - every inch of you was burning. Simon was an intelligent man - your plan to string the game along longer hardly a secret now. It was your turn to concede - he'd found you out. Somehow, you couldn't even begin to remotely care.
"For this. This moment alone."
He had come so close now that the distance between your lips could hardly be considered decent. With the smallest movement either of you could have closed it - a kiss both of you had long awaited in silence a promise now.
"Are you hoping for a reward?"
Your mouth had never been this dry and you could only nod, savoring the way his free hand now ran up your side, urging you forward slightly. He began to lean closer, slower than you'd ever seen him move before, to demonstrate where he intended to go, hoping you would follow his lead - hoping you could be the one to initiate what was to come.
"Use your words."
"Yes."
Like a flock of birds startled by a sound too loud cracking in the night like thunder you came crashing together like lightning, his lips finding yours like they'd already done so a thousand times before now. With his strength he had you on your feet and against a tree in the time it took for a gasp to fall from your mouth. He paused, dark gaze softening briefly as he waited for you to give any sort of show that you wanted him to stop. When you didn't, his lips finally claimed yours as your hands pulled him in firmer by grasping his collar.
It was heated - both of you had waited for this moment while simultaneously avoiding it since you'd met, but now that it was here it demanded everything from you - the kiss itself was all-consuming. As your lips and tongues danced together both of you allowed your hands to explore under shirts as best you could. His hands engulfed you - any part of you he grabbed was with as much as he could possibly get his hands on, noticeably holding himself back from grasping tighter in an effort to spare you from bruises.
Until your nails ran down his abs hard enough to leave red trails in their place and he took the unsaid words as further permission, his finger tips digger into your hips harder as he leaned more of his weight against you, truly pinning you to the tree. He gave you a moment to breathe - your vision blurred as you blinked up at him, eager to see the swirls of color in his eyes this close but still hopelessly wanton for his mouth on you some more.
A light smirk played on his lips at your expression - pupils and eyes wide and your already swollen lips remained parted, desperate and shallow breaths falling from your lips. He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth before trailing his lips to your jaw, dragging them back until he reached your ear with a gentle nip at the lobe.
"'s this what you wanted, dove?"
You could hear the desire fueling his words and could only whimper and nod in response as his lips connected to your neck, one of his hands releasing its hold on your hip to unhook the button of your pants. His lips reached lower, beneath where a collar would normally sit on you to suck a spot that raised goosebumps all across your skin as your zipper was undone. You realized you'd yet to give him the verbal response he probably required and it came from your chest as a broken moan as his hand slipped into your pants, pushing your underwear to the side.
"Y-yes, sir."
It was his turn to groan now, his fingers spreading your folds to spread the slick that had already started to leak from you. He bit into the spot he'd been paying attention to, uncaring if it left a mark for others to see in more casual settings, savoring the gasp and moan that fell from your lips and the way your hands desperately clawed at his sides to hold you to earth as your hips bucked forward, his fingers teasing your entrance as they did.
"Fuckin' soaked already, eh, love?" his taunt was directly below your ear followed by a loving swipe of his tongue, uncaring of the sweat that had gathered on your skin throughout the day and cherishing everything you had to offer. His fingers traced your hole slowly, teasing you with the slightest entrance several times before he continued. "I've barely touched you, y'filthy girl…"
You could once again only whimper as two of his fingers slipped inside of you with a quiet 'tsktsktsk' sounding against his teeth, his muttered words of praise and degradation muddled by your hazy mind as he stretched you open. He was well attuned to what your body responded to, pumping the thick digits into your tight sex with the perfect speed, rubbing against the most sensitive and velvet part of your walls perfectly each time to pull more moans from you.
His lips found yours again when he was satisfied you'd finally caught your breath enough to meet you in another bruising kiss, his hand that wasn't focused on fucking your cunt reaching to work his own pants partially down his thighs, freeing his throbbing cock with a grunt. You could tell by the speed to which his fingers entering you picked up and the rough grasp on one of your hands that he needed you just as desperately, guiding your hand to his cock and groaning again into your mouth as you wrapped your hand around his thick shaft, stroking his length tenderly.
As you continued to ensure your hand paid attention to every inch of him available he worked your pants down, making sure to quietly ask you if you were too cold in doing so and rewarding you with a gentler kiss and pressing closer to you when you shook your head. You could feel an orgasm building in you heavily and he picked up on the cues your body provided like it was something he'd been doing for a long time already, pumping his fingers faster as he continued to relentlessly kiss you.
"Go on, then," he coaxed against your lips, still not pulling away enough to give you a chance to suck in a full breath. You were dizzy, vision blurred already as every cell in your body focused on finding release. "Get nice and messy for me to fuck you."
It was that promise that sent you over the edge, the first wave of euphoria crashing over you and blinding your vision as you gushed around his fingers, the sloppy sounds of them entering your spasming repeatedly bringing a smile to his lips. He gave you the chance to breathe finally, releasing you from his kiss as his fingers abandoned your white hot core, hands grasping your hips to lift you upward. You realized your hand had fallen away from his cock as you'd worked through the initial hit of your orgasm and reached for it again, guiding it between the folds of your pussy and guiding it back and worth as he situated you between him and the tree, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist.
You were closer to his face now and could see the emotions in his eyes more - the hunger and need that filled him pouring from his expression and accentuated by a groan as your slick was spread over his cock. His words were barely more than a growl - the conflict deep behind each one only evident because you understood him. "Shouldn't…fuck you raw, dove. Such a bad fuckin' idea…"
You whined to communicate your dissatisfaction, already desperate to feel every inch of him buried in you and logic chased from your mind this soon after one orgasm had rushed through you. You reached between your bodies to rub your thumb over the pre-cum leaking from his swollen cock, grinding against him more. He was coated in your slick already - the fact he could slip into you with enough aid from just that unfocusing his mind.
"Need you, Simon…"
Of course it was his name on your lips that silenced his worries - that completely erased them. He adjusted quickly and with one swift movement his cock was stretching you, splitting you open on inch after inch as his lips found yours again. It was a fact that his length was too much for you to take in full, one you ignored happily and in a moderate state of drunken bliss until he'd bottomed out in you, tip pushing against your cervix. One of his hands remained attached to your hip and the other reached to press against your stomach and the bulge, adding to the pressure seated in your core so much you already started seeing stars again.
"Y'okay, princess?"
Any other time you'd have snipped at him not to call you that, but now as he muttered it in a slightly higher pitch, his whisper desperate and light against your lips you couldn't bring yourself to mind the name - with his cock buried in you you only nodded in response. His eyes met yours again before he leaned his forehead against yours, giving you a moment to focus on the feeling of his pulling his cock out from your velvet walls slowly.
He waited for a moment, teasing you with a delicate kiss to your bottom lip before he sheathed himself into you fully again with one swift thrust, hand pressing down against your stomach again. The sound of your pussy accepting him in with a squelch combined with the moan that ripped from your chest was pornographic and addicting, and he immediately entered a bruising pace to repeat it as much as he could - greedily working for another release from you.
You were thankful that his resolve had completed melted away as he got lost in the feeling of your cunt squeezing his cock on each entry, moans and grunts repeatedly falling from his lips as he fucked into you. While most of his hand stayed pressed against his own bulge inside you he reached his thumb down to your clit to rub the swollen nub, eagerly claiming your mouth again with his tongue when a moan erupted from it.
He continued his efforts relentlessly but gave you another break to breathe to lower his head to your neck again, kissing a trail down to your collarbone where he nibbled lightly, testing how the added stimulation would effect you. Despite the repeated moans and whimpers falling from your lips - it wasn't enough from him, the need to push you over the edge and prove to you the months of this building was worth it fueling his movements with primal need.
His hold on your hip became harder as his speed increased, thrusting into you desperately and rough. Distantly you could hear him praising you repeatedly as your walls began to squeeze his length tighter, mumbling quiet words of appreciation into your skin interchangeably between biting and licking and sucking. When your legs began to shake around him, he knew you were close and while he could've continued on just how he was he pressed for more, fucking into your harder with bruising thrusts into you.
(In the morning you'd remark that he could've taken it easier on you considering you had a hell of a hike back to camp and it would only be worse with a bruised cervix and hips. He'd only offer you a smirk as he remarked the pain would be good for you.
But he'd carry you for however long you asked him to if it was too much.)
"That's it, dove," he cooed, adjusting to look into your face again. "Want you to cum on my cock…want to see how messy we can make you, yeah?"
You nodded, vision blurred as you met his eyes again, eager to see the gaze of adoration he was now offering to you. His lips twisted into a smirk at the sight of your mouth hanging open, a bit of drool running down your chin - something you hadn't noticed and would've felt embarrassed over if he hadn't leaned forward and greedily swiped at it with his tongue, kissing you deeply again.
It was then that a second orgasm was pulled from you - but between the stimulation of the head of his cock rubbing against the perfect spot inside you, his thumb circling your clit, and his lips kissing you as though it was life sustaining this time your release squirted from you, your release coating his cock, waist, and thighs. A low groan rumbled in his chest and his speed picked up again, savoring the feeling of your walls clenching around him and milking his own release from him.
He opened his mouth to try to warn you it was coming - a lost cause when you abandoned his kiss to attach your lips to his neck and jaw, lightly nipping and licking at several sensitive spots that were typically covered to the world. He grasped your hip tighter and stilled his movements otherwise as he filled you with his release, his hot seed creating such a large load that it was already leaking from you around him.
You continued to kiss on his jaw as you both came down again, Simon waiting until he was certain you wouldn't fall before he removed his length from you, gently lowering you back to the ground. His eyes remained transfixed on your combined releases leaking down your thighs for a moment, conflicting emotions once again flooding his expression as he gazed at you. Just as you opened your mouth to ask if he was okay he dropped to his knees, using one hand pressed against your stomach to pin you to the tree again as the other lifted one of your legs over his shoulder.
He leaned forward to lick each of your thighs clean - you wished he'd removed his mask briefly so you could tangle your fingers in his hair, the thought was abandoned when he leaned forward fully to connect his flattened tongue to your folds, licking a slow stripe through them gently. You gasped and grasped at what you could, landing on holding the hand over your stomach and the back of his head, anchoring him to you.
He was happy to accept the way you pulled his head forward, burying it into your cunt more until his nose was pressed to your clit. His tongue found your hole and fucked into it, greedily slurping in as much of your releases as he could. It was entirely too much the way he swirled his tongue and sucked against you hungrily, but you still couldn't silence the loud cry of disappointment when his mouth abandoned you only to stand and kiss you again, silencing your whine with his tongue sharing what he hadn't swallowed for himself already.
When he released you again he leaned his forehead against yours, a lazy smirk spread across his lips that matched the smug energy radiating from him. With a shaking voice you quipped at him, unashamed of what he'd reduced you to and completely pleased with how your plan had come to fruition.
"Price told us not to play with our food."
The way his laugh huffed from him in his breathless state was intoxicating, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip briefly catching your gaze and transfixing you again.
"What Price doesn't know won't hurt him.
masterlist. call of duty masterlist.
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xo-adeline · 2 months ago
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"People have the strangest ways of meeting..."
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⋆°• ☁︎ - Blue Lock Boys x Impractical Jokers. Feat. Karasu Tabito, Otoya Eita, and Yukimiya Kenyu AN - I believe I saw one that was like this and just used different characters, I couldn't find it at the time of writing that but all credit to that author for this idea!! (I would so be open to writing about this for any other characters if you guys had anyone you'd like for me to do!)
(Link to part 2)
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Karasu Tabito
Both Otoya and Yukimiya could only laugh at the face Karasu made as you stepped into the elevator with him. A pretty girl and he has to do and say everything his idiotic friends say through the earpiece. “Oooo a girl” “I doubt he’ll do anything we ask” They both laughed as Karasu had to hold back a groan. “Karasu, I want you to turn to her and just ask her if she sees the stain on your pants” He turned over his shoulder and glared at the camera behind him, as you turned over to look at him “You okay?” “Uh, Yeah.. I just..” “Say it! Ask her if she sees the stain on your pants”
“Do ya’... do ya’ see the stain on my pants..?” He turned his face away from her and covered his face, trying to seem like he wasn’t there as you slightly laughed at the question “No, no I don’t” Both the boys over the earpiece could only laugh as well, not at the fact that you had checked, but the fact that their friend was so embarrassed that he started turning away from you. “Now, ask her if she looked really close because you know it’s there” “Ask her if she could smell it!” Karasu could only curse under his breath a “fuck you” before he turned back over towards the girl in the elevator with him, he could only groan when he realized that you were on one of the higher floors. “So.. I know ya’ said that ya’ couldn’t see it but can ya’..” He stopped, and just let it sit for a second, trying to convince himself to just go out and say it “Can ya’.. Ya’ know what no.” He looked at you as you looked back at him confused “Me and my friends we have this show, and you’re on it..” To which both Yukimiya and Otoya started “come on”ing him from in his ear. You nodded as you started to understand what was happening, it was coming up on your floor soon and you spoke up just before the door opened “So you never had a stain on your pants, did you?” You question, slightly teasing him “No” He said with a slight smirk “I didn’t” He was just gonna let it go and take the loss but before the door closed you reached back out with your phone. “You're funny. My number.” Your phone was open to your contacts and had your contact pulled up for him to read off it and transfer it to his own phone. He could only pull out his phone and put it in before you headed off back to your place. “Karasu, by the way. Just so you can put a name to a face when I text you.” You nodded. “(Name)..” The elevator doors shut and he rode back down to the bottom floor where he met up with Yukimiya and Otoya who had punched him in the shoulder a few times. Telling him the same old story of “Of course, he wouldn’t do it. That girl was so his type” “Ya’ might have won the challenge, but I won her phone number. So who’s really the winner~?”
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Otoya Eita
The Wheel of Doom. A bunch of potential punishments were written down. He would compare it to a “Spin to Win”, the only issue, was there was no winning. So with a huff of his breath and closed eyes, he spun the wheel, listening to the ‘ticking’ sound as the pointer hit the spokes on the wheel. After a couple of seconds, the sound faded out and was replaced with his two other friends laughing. ‘Join into a random conversation and stay there for at least 30 seconds.’ Great. So there he was. Standing out in the middle of an open park, his friend’s voices right in his ear trying to get him to approach somebody. That’s when he saw it, the perfect opportunity, a group of people walking down the way. He slowly started walking behind them and spoke up right after one of your friends. “Right, oh my gosh, like what in the world?” The person who had just spoken looked a little confused, but everybody else including yourself couldn’t help but laugh at the intrusion of the white and green-haired guy. Your friends looked unsure of how to continue so you picked it up. “Right! Like how dare she? Who does she think she is??”
“That Becca, she thinks she runs the world and can just crash anybody's party like that? She’s insane” This went on for much longer than the original 30 seconds it was supposed to go on. Karasu and Yukimiya had been long forgotten, no matter how many times he heard their voices ringing in his ear. The only thing that mattered now was the way you responded to everything he had said. The friends you had come with ended up heading out for a second, just looking at a small shop just a little way away leaving the two of you to talk. “Oh, Otoya, Otoya Eita” He said that same flirty tone he had used the second you started including him in your conversation. “(Name)” It wasn’t until your friends had come back that you even realized you had been talking about just whatever came to mind for the past 20 minutes. You offered him your phone number and a quick text before waving and headed back with your friends “Wanna hang out later this week? x”
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Yukimiya Kenyu
“Mhm… I don’t know if I would get that one if I were you..” The first words you heard from a male voice behind you. You turn around a see a guy: brown hair, glasses, and lord have mercy, gorgeous. “Oh?” You looked down at the item you had in your hand “And.. Why not?”
“It has umm.. Because..:” You looked a little bit confused at him when he started stumbling over his words, and an even more confused look when he almost started bursting out laughing. “...Because… It attracts..” He sighed, picking up his glasses slightly to rub the bridge of his nose “...mutant chicken nuggets…” You couldn’t help but laugh at the idea. Some random grocery store product somehow was able to attract mutant chicken nuggets?? “Right” You said through your laughter “And I now attract knights in shining armor who can protect me from said ‘mutant chicken nugget” You placed the item in your cart, before starting to walk away “I wouldn’t mind protecting you from them..” The same voice spoke up again “Hmm.. Then maybe I’ll invite you over to dinner the day I make it. Just in case” He laughed a little bit, before offering you his phone number, which you accepted almost immediately. He might have sounded like an absolute fool trying to get you to put something back because of mutant chicken nuggets, but it was so worth it in his mind to get a date with you.
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sweet-honey-fruit · 8 months ago
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Wanted
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Boothill x reader
Synopsis: Boothill has a wanted poster with your face on it
This is a snippet from what I was going to do. I might turn this into a series.
Warnings: boothill typical violence, cussing, boothill’s substitute cuss words, use of guns, mentions of splattered brains (but doesnt happen)
Masterlists: xxx
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Out of bullets. Out of backup. Shit shit shit. You’re normally better than this. You are better than this. You wouldn’t have secured a job to personally work beside the Ten Stonehearts if you sucked at it. So why now? When it truly mattered, why start losing grip now?
The hallway on the space station was long and agonizing. It’s slim but somehow you still feel like prey in an open field. The grip you have on your gun is tight despite the blasphemous thing being out of ammo. How the metal is digging into the palm of your hand is the only thing keeping you grounded and focused. Focused on making it to the safe room. Focused on sending out that distress signal. Focused on the little hope you have left. Just focus.
The distant sound of gunshots urges you to run faster. Each round of shots fuels not only your need to escape but your overwhelming guilt as well. Normally you stay back and handle the threat. You stay back to help your agents and get them to safety. That's what you wanted to do. Yet the sight of seeing bodies upon bodies being thrown to the side by him, you started to, selfishly, second guess if you should.
What pushed you to get out was Jade's voice speaking through your earpiece. She specifically ordered you to run and to get to the safe room. She all but hinted that this was surely a fight you couldn’t win and you needed to get out now. She's normally calm and collected, tactical and calculating. Jade isn't one to order you to retreat for she has trust in your abilities. So when she told you to run, you ran like hell was after you.
For once, you prayed to the Amber Lord. Praying that your colleagues will make it out alive. Although, you doubted that.
The weight of your conscious is almost enough to weigh down your speed but once the familiar doors of the safe room enter your sight, all weight is washed away and it’s replaced with relief.
Finally, after minutes of running and dodging bullets, you’ve made it. You take deep breaths to calm your breathing as a shaky hand swipes your keycard over the mechanical padlock. With a loud beep that makes you internally cuss it out, you slip into the room. The moment the door shuts you collapse to your knees.
“Holy fuck.” You mumble, letting out a nervous laugh. Your gun clatters to the floor beside you as your hand loses the strength to continue the death grip. You run your hand over your uniform to try and soothe the ache that replaces the cold metal. What a shit show.
You have faced an astronomical amount of enemies throughout your line of work. Anywhere from the Anti-Matter Legion to Galaxy Rangers. All of them were a pain to deal with, sure, but this? This is something different. You have never seen someone so precise, so quick with a gun, and so cocky. Recalling everything just made your blood boil. It’s not even because he ambushed your crew. It was more of the fact that he was moonwalking while doing so. Honestly, who acts so casually in a fight?
Pass it off with humor all you want, but you know exactly why you’re left shaken. This was the work of one individual. The same individual that made eye contact with you in the lobby. His grin widened when you locked eyes, and his bullseye pupils seemed to have made you the target. It was chilling. The way your body tensed and the hairs on the back of your neck stood was foreign to you. You’re normally the hunter but in the moment you felt like prey. That feeling was followed up by Jade's command and it felt too much like an omen. Like all of this was for you. All of this was because of you.
You shake your head to get rid of those thoughts. No. There’s no reason why you should dwell on the situation. Only doing so will drag you down. With weakened legs you stand, stumbling over to the command terminal to send a distress signal out. You hesitate for a moment as you stare down at the screen. The blinking red of the button haunted your memory.
The bodies of your coworkers. The blood of the agents you were supposed to watch over on Jade's behalf. The screams of pain and terror as they tried to take down the threat that snuck onboard. No matter how hard you try, you can't push down that culpability. Your mind races at a million miles per hour, from one thought to the next, all about your irresponsibility. You tried to save who you could. You tried to take down the threat yourself. You shot so, so many bullets all for naught. Then he looked at you. Made a beeline for you. Was he here for you? Was this all your fault? Where did you go wrong? Why didn't you try harder to save the agents that were trusted to your care? Are you even worthy of saving?
Your breath hitches at the last question.
'Am I worth saving?'
Even so, that decision isn't up to you. It's up to the Ten Stonehearts. With reluctance, you press the button. There's a gentle ping that was supposed to reassure you that the distress signal was successfully sent. But all it did was make your gut twist with anguish. It shouldn't only be you in this room.
Your sorrowful eyes stare out the window with a glaze. In all of your times of need, it has always been the stars that brought you comfort. Always a shining, shimmering light in the dreadful place of your mind. For the first time since this morning, your mind goes quiet as you imagine yourself walking among the stars. You enjoy the tranquility of the safe room, taking the opportunity to worship the silence. No screaming, no commands, no gunshots.
Wait.
.
.
.
No gunshots.
Your moment of peace is ripped out of your hands and replaced with your heart dropping. Your breathing stops and slowly, ever so, you turn your head to look behind you.
Oh fuck.
There he is in all of his cowboy glory. The barrel of his gun is pointed right between your eyes and there isn’t a hint of hesitation on his face.
“Don’t tell me ya hidin’ from my welcome party.” His thick southern accent lays on thick at the realization of it all; you haven’t been fucked like this in a long time. Your gun is left on the floor. Even if it is out of ammo, you still could’ve potentially used it as an empty threat. You quite literally backed up against a wall. Alone. The only exit is being blocked by the blood-thirsty cyborg man in front of you. There’s no one left to provide backup.
That feeling creeps up your spine again as his eye pierces through you, just itching to pull the trigger on you.
"Is this what they consider southern hospitality?" You sarcastically ask, a glare settling into your eyes in hopes of masking that premonition deep within your bones.
There's a skip of a beat in your heart when there’s silence. A thick, heavy silence that only grows louder the longer you stare down the barrel of the pistol. It’s only broken by his boisterous laugh. A laugh that feels mocking. A laugh that makes you feel offended that you opened your mouth. You go from scared, to confused.
“Oh shucks! You got me gatherin’ tears in my eye! Holy fudgin shirt on a rag! It’s been a while since I had someone tell me a one-liner like that. You’re a hoot and a holler!”
He finds this humorous. He has a gun pointed between your eyes, eager to splatter your brains across the window behind you, and he finds this funny. You go from scared, to livid.
“Are you fucking serious?”
“Ha! At least one of us can say it-“
“Are you fucking serious? You murdered my coworkers, you’re threatening me, and you’re laughing?”
“Don’t go actin’ all high and mighty now, you IPC scum.” His mood switch gave you whiplash. What was once a lighthearted tone was turned into a low growl. He took one step forward, then another, and another until his chest was pressed up against yours. His breath fans over your face. Your back presses up against the command terminal. The soft red blinking of the distress button reflects off the shiny metal of the gun as he presses it against your forehead. Even so, the indignation coursing through your body is enough to fuel a stellaron.
“You shouldn’t be acting all righteous either. Wanted criminals don’t deserve to act so pompous.” You snap back, huffing out a breath.
“So ya know who I am?”
“Unfortunately.”
Boothill might as well be a cursed name among the IPC. A name that brings both fear and a migraine. You never had the courtesy to meet him until now. His wanted poster has been sitting on your desk for a while along with his list of crimes. The stack was so big that his crimes were used as a paperweight for a while. While he was annoying, the Ten Stonehearts put you on missions that were ‘more important.’ His information served more as a warning rather than a task.
Now you regret not going after him when you got the chance.
“It appears my ruckus has paid off.” He whispers, lowering the gun. You had a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, that that was a sign he was leaving. That the distress signal wasn’t needed after all. He only allowed you enough relief to let out a shaky sigh.
The tip of the gun is pressed under your chin, tilting your head back to fully look up at his smug smirk.
“It’s a shame your wanted poster says wanted alive.”
Your eyes widen in his swift movements. With harsh movements, he slams the grip against your temple. There’s a burning, aching pain that spreads throughout your head and down the back of your neck. Your body falls to the floor with a harsh thud. You couldn’t help but think this is what you deserved for failing them all.
‘Am I worth saving?’ It appears the universe made that decision before your higher-ups.
Boothill kneels beside you, placing his gun back into his holster.
“Don’t ya worry. Ima take good care of ya.”
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fathomlessgaze · 1 year ago
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perfect: zayne takes solace in hearing the heartbeats of those he loves deeply, which now includes one more little one
all fluff dw, husband!zayne/reader, ~.9k
warnings: reader is pregnant + called a mother, maybe not canon compliant but spoilers about mc's lore and allusions to zayne's lore (mainly myths story + maybe that dawnbreaker anecdote), zayne being a doctor + lots of heartbeat ments but i didnt research so maybe medically inaccurate, i believe in (future) girldad!zayne
an: i haven't written ff in 5ever + didn't edit on top of this so my apologies LOL im just really downbad for this ice man n wanted to write smthn rq
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the soft, muffled clinking of keys and the creaking of the front door ruffle your slumber, your eyes slowly fluttering and flickering to the entryway where, sure enough, your husband steps inside. as he catches a glimpse of your, supposedly, sleeping form, a soft grin takes over his features and you think, maybe, you’d like to see where this goes. 
he puts his bag down by the console table and takes off his shoes and you steady your breath, hoping he hasn’t noticed your lingering gaze under your lowered lids. fishing out his stethoscope, he hangs it around his neck as he takes cautious steps towards you, tip toeing to avoid all the creaky spots of the hardwood floors. he’s slow as he lowers himself on the couch, taking a moment to admire your curve of your jaw and the pout of your lips before putting in the earpieces.
zayne really was trying to be careful. he’d taken the metal between the fabric of his jacket, an attempt to reduce the jarring difference between its chill and your warmth, and moved as slowly and quietly as he could as he sat next to your snoozing figure on the sofa.
he watches carefully before his stethoscope finds your heart and its rhythmic beating fills his head. while it isn’t new news, the reminder that the organ that keeps you alive is perfectly well and healthy always brings ease to his own, this time given a physical form through a quiet exhale falling from his lips. clear and strong, not a single hint or vibration of the fragments that used to plague your being, your heart beats in time with his, he’d like to think. he allows his eyes to get misty, a faint smile and chuckle escaping as he tries to wipe the tear that threatens to fall with his free hand. 
he stays like that for a minute more, simply relishing in how far you’ve both come. he remembers that surgery like it was yesterday, with how demanding and long it was, the aches settling in his muscles and bones by the end of it, only to jump head first into the delicate, intensive recovery you needed and he helped you through. and he would do it again and again, if that’s what it would take. 
oh, how your fingers itch to brush the side of his face, cup his cheek in your palm and brush the stray hairs behind his ear. you can always tell when he starts reminiscing, how a moist sheen covers his beautiful eyes, furthering just how precious they are. but before you can move your arm from where it rests on your leg, he’s taking back the chest piece into his palms, holding it gingerly.
with one hand, he gently runs his fingers along your stomach until he finds a spot that causes his eyebrows to raise for the slightest moment, before the stoic expression returns to his face. the now cool metal in his other hand replaces his other hand, and, if it weren’t for the quirk of his lips, the soft smile and endeared look in his eyes, you would’ve been none the wiser to what had happened. he takes in the rhythmic beating in his ears. that’s…your baby, well and healthy and all he could ask for. a small sigh escapes his lips. he could stay here and listen to it for forever. 
maybe you should cut the act.
fluttering your eyes open fully, you meet his tinted cheeks with a coy grin. “what’re you doing?” you ask, feigning innocence. 
he brings his hand to his neck, scratching slightly at the pink-tinged skin before clearing his throat. “i–uh–i thought it would just be nice to see if we could hear her heartbeat yet.” 
you lean forward, biting your lip to stop the knowing smile from escaping as you rest a hand on his shoulder and rub his cheek with your knuckles. “and do you?”
he nods, his rare beam coming to the surface before he kisses your forehead, letting his lips linger. “it’s beautiful and strong, just like her mother.”
before you can reply, he’s removing the ear pieces and fitting the stethoscope around your head, the quiet rhythm now taking over your senses. it’s gentle, delicate, but definitely there and determined. 
“that’s our baby,” you murmur. suddenly emotion washes over you and you rub your eyes with your sleeves. “oh, zayne, it’s lovely.”
he bobs his head, taking one of your hands in his to hold the metal still against you so he can now use his free hands to brush the droplets from your cheeks and wrap you in his arms, snug in his embrace. with a gentle kiss to your temple, he lets out a shuddering breath, not daring to speak before he can stabilize the shakiness in his throat. “it’s perfect.”  
“y’know,” you start, a small laugh escaping as you try to not cry into zayne’s button-up, “this is all i could’ve ever wanted, i think. if you told me when we met as kids this would be my life, i don’t think i would’ve believed you, but this is perfect, just as it is, you, me and her.”
he nuzzles his head against your neck, a quiet agreement taking form as a faint kiss on your shoulder. “this is the life i’ve waited years, forever, for.” he squeezes your frame slightly, holding your closer. “it’s so perfect.”
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salvationrepair · 8 days ago
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How to Apply New Earpiece Speaker Adhesive in Your Google Pixel Fold
Duration: 45 minutes Steps: 5 Steps Hey there, techie! This step-by-step guide is here to help you out. It’s all thanks to the Salvation Repair team. If you get stuck, you can always schedule a repair. This guide is here to help you tackle the replacement of the earpiece speaker adhesive in your Pixel Fold. Just follow these steps to smoothly remove the earpiece speaker if you haven’t done that…
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polakina · 2 years ago
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intensified senses
pairing: miguel o'hara x reader
rating: explicit
outline: being highly recommended by his lieutenants, miguel decided to recruit you into the spider society. wary of you at first, he kept a distance. but you were persistent on getting through the cracks of his stony exterior
warnings: cursing, fluff, eventual smut, miguel being a sarcastic bitch, pining, flirting, masturbation (male), blindfolding, sensory deprivation, blowjobs, unprotected sex, riding
requests are open! hope you enjoy, petals <3
masterlist
II
He watched you from afar at first. Crouched from a high tower, dressed in inconspicuous clothing and hiding in plain sight. You came highly recommended. Jess and Ben spoke rather fondly of you, of your loyalty, bravery. You took care of your neighbourhood, of your city. And you were damn fucking good at it.
Miguel didn’t see it. He looked at you with a rather cold stare as you perched from a rooftop, your headpiece laid beside you as you looked out towards the streets. You crouched there with a bagel in one hand, iced coffee in the other. Your suit was all yellow, like the sun. The spider on your chest a deep orange. The sunset made it shine brightly. A pretty amber in the light. Miguel just sort of scowled at you. 
“What do you think, O’Hara?” Jess came through on his earpiece, crackly, but clear enough to understand.
“She’s…you think that she could join the society?” He asked incredulously. “She’s a kid!”
“She’s actually similar in age to you, just with a better skin care routine,” he heard her chuckle lightly.
“That’s funny,” he responded coolly. Sarcastically. As he usually did. But he trusted Ben and Jess’ judgement, and to be fair, he was trying to expand the spider society further. So perhaps you would be an ample addition, in his eyes.
-
You knew someone had been watching you for a while. You felt eyes on the back of your head. For what reason, you weren’t sure, but they didn’t pose a threatening feel. So you let them be.
It wasn’t until you felt their presence behind you that you felt that something needed to be done about it. You heard his footsteps quite a fair distance behind you, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up straight. He was big. Very big. Putting your headpiece back on, you stood up straight and kept looking ahead of you. It was only when you felt him get a little closer that you sent your webs in his direction. You heard him grunt as he was webbed to the rooftop door, stuck in place. 
That’s when you turned around to face him. Glad that your face was covered, he wasn’t able to see the look of surprise on your face. The way your eyebrows raised or your mouth fell slightly open. Goddamn. He wasn’t exactly what you had expected to be following you all these weeks.
Dark curly hair. Reddish eyes. A waistline that would put any model to shame. The man was built like a brick wall, but with a face carved from a God or something. You blinked back into focus, not letting him distract you right now.
“Who are you?” You asked, trying to conjure a sort of authoritative voice to not seem so young. Or small. Which you were in comparison right now.
“That isn’t important right now,” he said, struggling against your webbing. “I need you to come with me. I’m recruiting you. That’s the reason I’ve come to find you. Not so we can chitchat and braid eachother’s hair.”
You laughed a little. Miguel ignored how his heart leapt a little at how pretty it sounded. “Wow you’re really good with your people skills. Has anyone ever told you that?” You walked a little closer to him, still hesitant. “Unless you tell me exactly who you are, and exactly what you’re doing in my city, I’m not going anywhere. And by the time that webbing’s structure decomposes enough for you to break free, you won’t find me again.”
He just sighed at you, rolling his eyes out of impatience. “Okay, I’m over this.” talons protruded from his hands in replacement for his fingers, and he sliced through your webbing. Shit, you put so much effort into that webbing too. He sauntered towards you, hips swaying as he looked down at you with a deeply disinterested glare. You backed up until your legs hit the edge of the rooftop, pinning you between him and the ground below. You could have just jumped. Leaned back until you fell from the roof and swung through the streets, far away from him. But you couldn’t. It was like you were frozen in place. “You’re coming with me. One way or another.”
You stepped up onto the ledge, almost as tall as he was now. “As much as I’d love to come back to what I assume is a cute little lair, I’m going to have to pass.” You fell backwards off the ledge and watched his eyes widen as he went to reach for you, but he wasn’t quick enough. Clearly his spidey senses weren’t kicking in today.
You fell, looking towards the ground as it got closer and closer to you. 
But you never did reach it.
It was a blur, a flash of coloured lights blinded you for a few moments. There was a pressure on the back of your neck, as though someone had grabbed you harshly, penetrating skin from the pain it inflicted.
Instead your body collided with a solid stone floor. Hard. you felt somethin crunch as your body hit the ground, sending shooting pains through your entire arm. Blinking your eyes a few times, you adjusted to the bright fluorescent lighting around you. Screens were put up on every wall, a large computer sat atop a much larger desk was raised above you.
“What the fuck?” You whispered, pushing yourself off the ground. Turning slowly in a circle, you tried to gauge where you were, until you came face to face with him again. “You! Where the fuck have you brought me?” You started swinging at him. You don’t really know why. It was a defense mechanism, you guessed? But you swung at him nonetheless. Pointless as it was, it made you feel better.
He just huffed and shook his head, batting away your hands and feet as they came at him, as though they weren’t even hurting him. It wasn’t until he grabbed your wrist which you injured, feeling the dislocation in the bone. You hissed in pain, trying to pull away, to no avail. He said nothing, just snapping it back into place and your cry echoed throughout the room. 
“Asshole!” You cried out, turning away.
“You’re welcome.”
“I wouldn’t have even been hurt if you hadn’t have kidnapped me!”
“I told you I was recruiting you for something.” His voice was so plain, so boring, so calm. Not a smidge of emotion or humanity in it.
“You could have asked nicely! Maybe explained the situation before…teleporting me to your shitty office,” you breathed heavily.
“You didn’t give me a chance. This was the only way.” He turned towards the desk, making his way up to it. You followed, rolling your wrist to alleviate the pain. 
“So why am I here? And who exactly are you?” You walked to the desk, taking a seat in the chair and spinning in it until his face became blurry. You came to a sudden stop when his hands fell hard onto the arm rests, his face inexplicably close to yours. You held your breath as he scowled down at you.
“Get. Off. My. Chair.”
“Who. Are. You.”
He rolled his eyes. But it wasn’t he who answered your question. It was a woman. “Miguel, you’re back! And you brought company. So this is the Lemon Spider? I expected something…different.”
“Lemon Spider? That is not my name,” you chuckled, looking over to see a blonde woman on the screens.
“Well, LYLA is my name. And Lemon Spider suits you, so Lemon Spider is your name.” She smiled, her grin was big and bright.
“And you’re Miguel? I’m glad someone finally told me.”
Eventually Miguel explained why he’d brought you to him. The Spider Society. Hundreds of spiders from hundreds of different alternate realities protecting the canon events and ensuring nothing disrupted them. His lieutenants had recommended you after close observation of how you handled situations within your own universe. You were small but quick, good at getting in and out of places that others couldn’t fit. You had heart. You never acted out of anger, or revenge. Only when someone needed you, needed your help.
It was a noble cause. One that, of course, you would have signed up for yourself if Miguel hadn’t first brought you here against your will. The man really needed to work on his people skills.
-
Months later, you had worked your way up the ranks. A valued member of the society. Even Miguel was impressed. Not that he ever showed it. You’d even met some other spiders. Pav and Hobie being the ones you were closest with whenever you got a chance to see them.
But Miguel was always the one you wanted to see the most, but you tried to keep that your own little secret.
“So…how ya been?” You asked, spinning on the desk chair once again as he leaned over the desk beside you. He rolled his eyes once again, but his mean demeanour had slightly softened with you around over time. Even LYLA had noticed it, once asking him if he did in fact begin to soften towards you. She earned a low growl in response and never spoke of it again. 
“Busy.”
“As always,” you huffed, looking at the same thing he was, a screen with a lot of maps and circles and colours…you understood none of it.
“Shouldn’t you be working? Doing spidey stuff?” He asked, looking over at you, his eyes softening at the way you looked up at him. He brushed it off quickly though.
“My canon events are safe,” you assured. “Besides, I’ll be notified if anything canon related or otherwise is affected or in jeopardy. So until that happens, I have a clear schedule.”
He just looked away, scanning activity on the screen. “Well, that’s great,” he mumbled under his breath, sarcasm lacing his tone.
“Come on, I’m great company,” you smiled up at him.
“Uh huh.”
You sighed, leaning back in the chair, putting your feet up on the desk. “Well, you’d prefer me over Hobie, at least.”
He grunted, pushing himself off the desk and turning towards you. Grabbing both your ankles, he yanked them off the desk, pulling you closer to him, your legs either side of his body as the wheely chair rolled swiftly towards him. “Look, as much as I love the cute little attitude you seem to have,” he leaned closer towards you, his cologne filling your senses. “I have work to do. And you’re a distraction. So either be quiet, or go elsewhere, okay?”
Words escaped you. And Miguel realised exactly what he’d just said. He also realised he’d essentially caged his body between your thighs. You gazed up at him, he noted a little surprise in your eyes, as well as something else. But he couldn’t put his finger on it. Letting go of your ankles, he stepped away. You stood from your chair.
“Well, I wouldn’t want to be a distraction now, would I, O’Hara?” You asked, a little smirk playing at your lips. You patted his chest and walked away.
He hated that he watched you leave, completely ensnared by you as you left the room. 
-
You stayed at the base that night, knowing that Miguel had his room set up there, a few doors down from the meeting room. You planned to go back to your own dimension, but it was quite boring back there right now. So you hung out in the meeting room, suspended upside down from the ceiling. Tracking the activity of your own city, you were met with absolutely fuck all. No activity. No spikes in crime or anything altered on your own timeline.
Sighing, you dropped down to the floor, preparing to go back to your own timeline. You would have said goodbye to Miguel, but you weren’t exactly sure he wanted to talk to you right now.
Just as you were about to leave, you heard something. Your ears perked and the hairs on your arms stood up. It was coming from Miguel’s room. You shouldn’t have inspected, it wasn’t your place. But your feet took you there anyway. Outside his door, you pressed your ear up against it, listening intently. At first you thought he was communicating with someone. LYLA, perhaps. Until you heard something else. Groaning? Grunting, maybe. But then you heard moaning. And he was saying something. Your name. Your hand covered your mouth so that he wouldn’t hear you. But he sure as hell would have sensed your presence. Wouldn’t he?
You stepped back, knocking into the wall behind you. His noises halted almost immediately. Hearing his footsteps approach the door, you backed away quickly, but he opened the door before you were completely out of sight. His pupils were blown wide, his shirt discarded and his chest glistening slightly with sweat.
“I thought you’d left,” he said, his voice low, gruff.
“I stuck around, kept an eye on the screens for a little while,” you admitted. It wasn’t a lie, for the most part. “Thought you would have heard me, or known I was still here.”
He cocked his head in confusion. 
“Spidey senses? I always know when someone’s around,” you smiled. But he shook his head in disagreement.
“I don’t have those. Wasn’t bitten by a spider, you see,” he revealed, and your eyebrow quirked. “How long have you been stood out here?”
Your heart dropped. “Um…not long. Was just about to leave anyway, so you get back to…whatever it is you were doing. I’ll see you around, O’Hara.”
You turned to leave until his voice stopped you. “Or you could…stay?” You didn’t turn around at first, but you felt him come up behind you. Close. Very fucking close. His heat radiated onto your back. “I’ve been cold towards you, I know that. I haven’t meant to be.”
“So why have you been?” You spun on your heel, almost stumbling as you came into contact with his bare chest. But his hand on your waist caught you.
“If I let myself enjoy your company as much as I do, I’ll become distracted from my life’s work,” he let his head drop.
Confidence suddenly overtook you and you placed a hand on his cheek, tilting his head back up to look at you. “Sometimes a distraction is what you need to be able to do your job.”
He chuckled. The first time you’d ever seen him do that. “You saying I do my job wrong?”
“I said sometimes, O’Hara,” you smiled. “But maybe a distraction is what you need right now.” Taking his hand, you led him back to his room. You expected him to pull away, but he didn’t, he followed. Miguel shut the door behind him and your eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room, the only light source coming from his desk light. His hands found your waist from behind you, his breath on your neck.
“A distraction sounds pretty good right about now,” he purred in your ear, kissing your neck softly. You melted into his touch, your legs becoming a puddle. He kissed down your neck to your shoulder and you turned your head, letting your lips meet his in a gentle kiss. 
This was the gentlest you’d ever seen him. Usually his walls were up, and he was cold and distant from everyone. But here…here he was entirely exposed. To you. You walked him slowly to the couch in the corner of the room, the backs of his knees hitting it before he sat down, his hands pulling you closer.
“You said you don’t have spidey senses, right?” You asked, standing before him. He looked up at you expectantly. 
“What are you getting at here, princesa?”
“Just something I want to try.” You pulled the thick ribbon from your hair that tied it up in a bun whenever you were out of your suit. Your hair fell down to your shoulders, falling in front of your face.
“Oh, we’re trying things? So early on?” He joked, a small smile in his voice.
“Oh shush, I think you’ll like it,” you held the ribbon in front of him and he realised what you wanted to do. He nodded, his trust put in you. Covering his eyes, you tied it around the back of his head. “Just have a little faith.”
“In you, I do.”
You knelt before him, so thankful he was just in sweatpants. You weren’t very good at handling belts. Wrapping your fingers around the waistband of his sweatpants, you felt him tense up lightly. “Easy, O’Hara. Just relax, okay?”
You looked up to see him nod. Smiling, you continued, pulling his sweatpants down to his ankles. He’d opted to go commando under those pants, and you stifled a gasp at what awaited you beneath the fabric. 
Shit. you knew he was a big guy…but you didn’t expect him to be that big of a guy. Miguel’s cock sprang out of its confinement, hard, long and thick. For a moment you worried yourself that you wouldn’t be able to take all of him. Or even…most of him. But you were too pent up and needy for him that you pushed past it.
Wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, Miguel shuddered at your touch. He didn’t want to admit it, but it had been a while for him. Having only his own hand to work with, he couldn’t fathom how good it felt to be your hand instead.
But fuck, the second he felt your mouth envelope his dick, he couldn’t stop the moan that escaped his throat. You loved it, the raw feeling behind his groaning and whimpering. Taking him further in your mouth, you sucked slowly, deeply, your tongue circling the tip so his legs tightened under your hand where it laid, resting on his thigh.
You felt his hand travel to your head, fingers entangling in your hair and gripping it with a firm hold. He didn’t push, he just held you there. The more of him you took, the tighter his grip got. His panting and moaning was like music to your ears.
“Shit…shit…” he breathed, raising his hips up off the couch, his dick pushing deeper down your throat. He was about to come, on the verge of it, you could feel it. His head fell back against the top of the couch, his teeth gritted against each other as he felt the precipice of his orgasm fast approaching. “Wait, wait, wait.” He spoke quickly, racing through his words.
You did stop. Pulling away and looking up at him. “Are you okay?” You asked, worried you’d gone too far, too fast.
“I’m fine,” he panted, head tipped towards the ceiling. “But…” Miguel pulled down his blindfold so it hung loosely around his neck. He gazed at you, his eyes coated in a thin sheen, glossed over. “I’m not gonna be the only one who gets to feel this good though.” He pulled you up and onto his lap. You felt his dick twitch beneath you as your face was ever so close to his, inches away from one another. “So now it’s your turn, princesa.”
Miguel smirked, his hand sliding down the front of your pants, gliding under your panties and came into contact with your bare skin. Your breath shortened as his fingers drifted down to your pussy, already soaked from the moments previously, and he smirked at the wetness he felt there. “Already this wet, hmm? Guess it’s not going to take long for you to be able to take me, huh?” He was so smug. So confident. In any other instance you’d find it annoying, but right now you couldn’t have found it more attractive. All you could muster up was a quiet, desperate please.
He smiled, pushing a finger deep inside you and pulling a soft moan from you. God, he could listen to that on repeat for the rest of his life. Moving his finger in and out at a quickened pace, curving his fingertip to hit that sweet spot you could never reach yourself, he felt you clench around him, your eyes begging for more when your mouth couldn’t form the words. He happily obliged, adding a second finger. The palm of his hand grinding against your clit with the added pressure of his fingers fucking you was driving you to the edge quicker than you thought possible. 
He knew it too. Your eyes rolling back, your hips shifting to rock with the rhythm of his fingers inside you. You were close. 
“You want to come, angelita?” He asked, his words dripping with want, with need. For you. He watched you nod frantically. But he slowed his fingers, his other hand gripping your jaw gently, but firmly. “On my fingers, or on my cock, hmm?” He saw the way your eyes lit up at that proposal. “Oh, honey. I think I already know what you want.”
He didn’t even try and take off your pants, he tore right through them instead, his talons scraping against your skin, but never breaking your skin. Throwing your torn clothes across the room, he lifted you up so you hovered above him. Miguel grabbed his cock by the base, running it along your pussy, soaking the tip with your wetness. 
Words escaped you and your mind went numb when he first pushed his cock into you. At first it felt overwhelming, the size of him frying your senses and fogging your head. Only at about half way in, Miguel started to feel resistance, and the look of shock and the overwhelmed tint in your eyes showed him why. “Just relax, conejita. You’re taking me so well,” he whispered, one hand on your thigh and the wrapped around your back.
His praise and encouragement cleared your clouded thoughts. You nodded, taking your time and sinking lower and lower until you reached the base. Letting out a deep breath, you gave yourself a few moments to adjust. Miguel smiled up at you. “Atta girl,” he mumbled, a smirk on his lips. He shifted his hips, rising up into you, purposefully grinding his dick up into your soaking pussy. Fuck, he loved the way you bit your lip to stifle your noises as to not make too much noise. Not that anyone else was here anyway. He wanted to hear you. 
You started rocking back and forth on his dick, the tip hitting something devastatingly sweet every time and it sent shockwaves through your entire body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, nails scratching into his back, digging crescent shaped indents into his skin as you rolled your hips quicker and quicker. Miguel’s hands both found their way to your hips, guiding your movements and controlling your speed. His head dipped down as he kissed your neck, taking your skin between his teeth and biting gently, sucking deep marks into your neck. 
His lips trailed down, passing your collar bones, down your sternum to your breasts. His tongue circled your perked nipple before he sucked identical purple marks into your breasts, kissing along to the other breast as he did, giving the same treatment to both. 
Mumbles and whimpers fell from your lips, flooding the room with your desperation for Miguel’s touch, for Miguel’s praises, for Miguel’s hands all over you. His fingers dug tighter into your hips, grinding you against him hard, his cock reaching the perfect places inside you to make you squirm, to make you cry out his name. 
“You gonna come for me, princesa? Hmm?” He asked, a smidge of cockiness in his tone. He was good. And he knew he was good. You couldn’t deny it, not knowing that even though you were already so overwhelmed by the size of him, mixtures of pleasure and pain that balanced one another out perfectly, you couldn’t deny that you weren’t already craving more of him. 
But the second he started raising his hips to meet yours, you lost it. Your head fell against his shoulder, and his lips attacked your neck, pressing soft kisses there, biting gently. His hand drifted between your bodies, putting pressure against your clit with his thumb. That’s when your body began to unravel, your senses skyrocketed. You gripped the back of his neck so tightly as you felt your orgasm growing closer, your thighs shaking and your movements started to falter in both speed and momentum. 
Miguel sensed it it too, his hands on your hips becoming the sole thing after a point, that kept you grinding on his cock. He was close too. But he held out with all of his focus. Wanting you to come for him first. Needing you to. “Come on, honey,” he purred in your ear, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Be a good girl and come for me.”
You couldn’t hold it in anymore. You let out a small cry, Miguel’s name playing on your tongue. Your orgasm washed over you. It wasn’t gentle either, like it usually was whenever you touched yourself. This was powerful. This was like a tsunami. It tore through you, electrifying your veins and causing you to clench hard. Your thighs caged him, closing tighter around his body as you clung to him. You bit into Miguel’s shoulder, hard enough to draw blood, but it didn’t stop him from fucking up into you. He didn’t stop. Not until your orgasm had finally satisfied the both of you. Your body collapsed against him, your chest heaving as you tried to regain all of your breath, filling your lungs to their capacity.
“You okay, conejita?” He asked, raking his fingers up and down your spine, kissing the side of your head. He chuckled lightly as you just nodded, a quiet groan all you could muster up at an attempt for words.
You lifted your head, leaning back to look at him. A gasp escaped your throat as he shifted beneath you once more, his cock twitching. “You didn’t…” Your words trailed off as you looked fown for a split second.
Miguel shook his head. “No.”
“Why not?” You asked, a mixture of curiosity and a little embarrassment lacing your tone. 
He smiled, leaning back, running his hands up and down your thighs. “You think I can only last one round, honey? I’m offended,” he laughed jokingly. Your eeys widened a little, and you were slightly concerned you wouldn’t be able to handle more right now. Not if it was as good as that. “Don’t look so afraid, baby,” he whispered, lifting you and your legs wrapped around his waist. He carried you to the bed on the other side of the room, laying your down gently, your head settling comfortably into the pillows as he climbed on top of you, his body between your thighs. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”
You huffed a soft laugh. “Miguel, I don’t think you know the meaning of gentle.”
He matched your soft laugh with one of his own. Rolling his eyes, he leaned even closer to you, your lips almost touching. “I’ll try to be gentle. At first.” His eyes darkened in the dimmed room and your heart beat just a little faster. “But don’t think it’ll take me more than five minutes to fuck you into this bed until all you can do is scream my name.”
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fuckyeahgoodomens · 1 year ago
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Ooh! A wonderful interview with Rich Keeble who played Mr. Arnold (the one with the Doctor Who Annual :)) in S2! :)❤
Q: In Good Omens 2 you play Mr. Arnold, who runs the music shop on Whickber Street. Were you a fan of Good Omens before joining the cast, and is it challenging to take on such an iconic story which is already loved by a huge fanbase?
A: “There’s always pressure if you’re working on something with an existing fanbase and people might have an idea already as to how you should be approaching something. To be honest I was aware of the show but I hadn’t actually seen it before I was asked to get involved. I knew it was something special though! I remember talking to Tim Downie [Mr. Brown] about how when you tape for certain things you know if something’s a “good one”. Of course by the time I was on set I’d watched Season 1 and read the book. 
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I had an interesting route into the show actually: I was asked at the last minute to read the stage directions at the tableread on Zoom, and Douglas [Mackinnon] the director called me up to discuss pronunciations of the character names etc. To prepare further I quickly watched the first episode on Prime Video, and I was very quickly drawn into it. A couple of hours later I was on a Zoom call with David [Tennant], Michael [Sheen] (with his bleached hair), Neil [Gaiman], Douglas and the whole team, including Suzanne [Smith] and Glenda [Mariani] in casting. After that readthrough I asked my agent to try and see if she could shoehorn me in and she came back with a tape for Mr. Arnold saying “you play the piano don’t you…?” They wanted me to demonstrate my musical playing ability, so I rented a rehearsal studio room in Brixton for an hour and filmed myself playing piano (and drums just in case), then I did my scenes a couple of different ways and I guess it wasn’t too terrible!”
Q: During episode five you mimed to music written by series composer David Arnold alongside a real string quartet – this must have been very immersive! How did it feel to work with David, and bring the ball to life?
A: “I actually didn’t meet David Arnold sadly, but I did work with Catherine Grimes, the music supervisor who is lovely. David was at the London screening but I missed an opportunity to go and say hello to him which I kicked myself about. 
I remember before I was in Scotland there was a bit of uncertainty as to whether I would need to play anything for real or not, so I practised every day playing loads of Bach and other music I thought was era-appropriate just in case they asked me to do anything on the fly. So yes, it was very immersive as you say! They sent me three pieces of music to learn which I practised in my Edinburgh apartment on a portable folding keyboard thing I bought. They introduced me to the string quartet (John, Sarah, Alison and Stephanie) and I tried to hang out with them when I could. On the day we all had earpieces to mime to. I had to mime while listening out for a cue from Nina [Sosanya] from across the room, then deliver my dialogue and carry on playing, which was tricky! The quartet and I helped each other out actually: Douglas would say something like “let’s go from a minute into the second piece of music”, I’d look at the sheet music and whisper “where the hell is that?” and one of the quartet would say “we think that’s bar 90” or something. Here’s a little bit of trivia: the shooting overran and the string quartet couldn’t make the last day, so they found some incredible lookalikes to replace them for the scene when we get lead out of the bookshop through all the demons, although I think they also kept them deliberately off camera.” 
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Q: What did you think of your music shop when you first saw the set? Did you have a favourite poster or prop?
A: “I thought it was incredible! It could’ve been an actual music shop with all the instruments hanging up with the “Arnold’s” price tags on. The attention to detail was incredible, well IS incredible as I understand it’s all still there. It’s hard to pick a favourite to be honest. I did a little video walkaround on my phone at the time so maybe I’ll post that if I won’t get in trouble. Interestingly the shop interior itself was elsewhere on the set to the shop entrance you see from the street. You walk out of Aziraphale’s shop, over the road, through the door of the music shop and… there’s nothing.” 
Q: Mr. Arnold is tempted into the ball by a Doctor Who Annual and is playing the theme in the music shop scene – are you a fan of Doctor Who in real life? And what was it like making those jokes and references in front of the Tenth Doctor David Tennant?
A: “I’ve always dipped in and out of Doctor Who over the years since Sylvestor McCoy, who was doing it when I first became aware of it when I was growing up. Even if you’re not a fan it’s one of those shows you can’t really get away from, so doing that particular scene in front of David was really fun, and of course Douglas had directed Doctor Who as well. Apart from the amusing situation of two supposed Doctor Who fans talking about Doctor Who without realising they’re in the company of a Doctor Who, I also seem to remember Michael being the one to suggest that he would deliver his “due to problems at the BBC” line directly to David.
Oh, and I think it was actually my idea to grab the annual off the harpsichord before joining the queue behind Crowley at the end of the ballroom scene (which we’d shot weeks earlier at this point). When we were blocking it out and rehearsing I knew I had to leave my position and get to the front for my “surrender the angle” line, and then later it just felt like I wouldn’t leave without the annual so I ran back through everyone to grab it. Nobody seemed to have a problem with me doing that so I just carried on doing it when we shot it! I do remember it being a fun set with Douglas and the team being very open to suggestions.”
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Q: How did you balance filming both Good Omens and BBC Ghosts at the same time?
A: “Luckily both shows were a joy to work on, and everyone seems to know about both of them. We were shooting them in early 2022 and I also had a little part in an ITV drama called ‘Stonehouse’, starring Matthew Macfadyen. I usually never know when I’m working next so to have three great TV jobs at once was very unusual. There was all this date juggling and I actually almost had to turn down Ghosts due to clashes. Luckily both shows had to move some dates so it worked out. But yes, I spent two weeks up in Scotland shooting all that Good Omens ballroom stuff, then I came back down to London to do Ghosts, knowing I’d be back up to shoot my scenes in the music shop in a couple of weeks. Now, when I found out who was playing my wife in Ghosts I couldn’t believe it: Caroline Sheen – Michael Sheen’s cousin! She was amazing and that was another great set in general. I say “set”, but it’s all filmed in that house which surprised me. I’d worked with Kiell [Smith-Bynoe] and Jim [Howick] before, and Charlotte [Ritchie] was in the Good Omens radio play a few years ago and a big fan of the book. Charlotte’s very musical of course and we got talking about my folding keyboard I had for practising my Good Omens stuff, and she ended up setting it up in the house for us to have a play on!
Now, when we’d shot all our internal scenes there was this big storm forecast, and our external scenes were scheduled for the day of the storm, so that had to be moved into the next week. It meant I ended up shooting those scenes outside the house, then going straight back up to Scotland to shoot the Good Omens music shop scene the next day! When I mentioned to Michael I’d just worked with Caroline he said “ooh she’s in Ghosts is she!” and revealed that she’d texted him about me which was rather surreal. Then later after the Ghosts wrap party Kiell gave me a part in his Channel 4 Blap, so at the time I felt like I was killing it career wise, but the industry quietened a bit after that and my workload eased off over the year so I was in my overdraft by November.”
Q: What are your plans for the future – can we expect to see you in something else soon?
A: “This year, after a bit of a quiet start, I was very fortunate to work on a Disney+ show called Rivals which stars… David Tennant! I think I’m allowed to say my character is called Brian, and I shot five episodes so that was another really amazing job, and great to work with David again (I told him he must be my good luck charm, although I hope he’s not sick of me). That should be out at some point in late 2024. Other than that I’ve filmed a few other bits I presume will be out next year, one of which is called Truelove on Channel 4 which actually looks really good. That starts early January. Of course now Season 3 of Good Omens has been greenlit, I would love Neil and the gang to have me back on that… but I can only keep my fingers crossed!”
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crowsofdarkness · 8 days ago
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Soldat: Chapter Nine
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-gif not mine. credit to owner-
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader. Slight Steve Rogers x Female Agent! Reader
Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.
Summary: Agent Y/N has worked alongside Steve Rogers at SHIELD for some time all while keeping a dark secret from everyone. Until one day that darkness faces her head on and she's forced to make a choice. Continue fighting along side Captain America? Or find her home once again with Soldat?
Authors Note: This was originally published on my old blog as a trilogy so I will be in the slow process of adding it to this blog. This is the first of the trilogy and will take place during The Winter Soldier. If anyone is interested in being tagged, let me know.
Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx
Soldat Masterlist
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Hell. 
That would be the only word I could use to describe what we all had gone through the last hour. Natasha, Nick, and Maria were all in their positions while Steve, Sam, and I had fought our way through the Strike team. I had opted out of using my powers, choosing to use my other ways to fight. Thankfully nothing had triggered me to use them. 
Steve had gone on the intercom to let everyone know the truth about Shield and Hydra, revealing that Pierce was behind all of it. His speech caused a rift between everyone in the building, some taking sides with Hydra because they were too afraid of the consequences while the others chose the side to stand up against Hydra and follow Steve. 
His speech also pushed Hydra to move their launch to happen in the next ten minutes. Which is where we were right now. 
“They’re initiating launch,” Maria’s voice came through our earpieces.
Sam and I followed Steve to the roof of the building, our feet taking us towards the helicarriers that had started rising from the water below us. 
“Hey Cap, how do we know the good guys from the bad?” Sam questioned. 
“If they’re shooting at you, they’re bad.” Steve called from over his shoulder.
He reached for my hand and after I slipped my fingers with his, we watched Sam release his metal wings before jumping off the edge of the building and taking flight. Steve wrapped his arm that was clutching tight to his shield around my side, pulling me into his chest. 
“Hang on,” he breathed into my ear before we both jumped off the building. 
Bullets rained down around us as we landed on our feet, hiding behind a few storage containers. Members of the Strike team had found us, causing us to fight back to back just like we had done many times before. 
“Hey Cap, I found those bad guys you were talking about.” 
I bit my lip at Sam’s voice that came through my ear to stop from laughing and asked if he was alright. 
“I’m not dead. Yet.” 
“Be careful,” I demanded with a smirk. 
Once we had fought our way through the Strike team, us standing tall, we started after the helicarrier that we were in charge of disabling. 
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” I asked Steve, peaking over his shoulder. 
My body was pressed up against his back, trying to see exactly what he was doing because they had come up with this entire part of the plan while I was held captive at Hydra’s base.
He let out a quiet scoff as he took out one of the memory cards that we needed to replace with our copy that would immediately shut down the helicarrier. 
“Have a little faith,” Steve smirked. 
“Do you think she’s really going to do it?” I questioned, trying to keep the silence from taking over. 
“Who, Nat?” Steve asked, giving me his full attention only for a moment. “It’s the only way for us to let everyone know about Hydra.” 
I nodded. “I know but that just means all of our past is going to be out there, online, for everyone to see.” 
“But I already know about your past so you don’t have to be worried about what I will think. I’m still going to be by your side, no matter what.” Steve declared, letting the facade of Captain America slip away only for a second. 
All I could do was give him my best smile before nodding, letting him know that we should get moving. 
It was true; Steve did know about my past but there was one day, almost two years ago, that I forced myself to bury so deep in my subconscious because I didn't want anyone to find out. It was only between Soldat and I, no one else was around and knowing what I know now about Hydra wiping his memory, I didn’t have to worry about Soldat telling anyone. That moment of my life was the absolute lowest I had ever felt. It took me a very long time to feel like myself again. If it hadn’t been for SHIELD hiring me and working with Steve, I would have been dead. 
After disabling the helicarrier, we made our way towards the last and final helicarrier but the voice that came through our earpieces caused my feet to come to a sudden halt. 
“Guys, he’s here.” 
Sam’s words echoed in my mind and Steve reached for my hand, giving it a squeeze. “You alright?” 
Blinking twice, I nodded. “I knew we were going to run into him eventually so I don’t know why I’m so afraid to face him.” 
The fear of not knowing who we were about to face had my palms sweating and my heart hammering in my chest. Did they wipe him again after they found out I escaped? Or would he remember letting me leave?
“I’ll be right here.” 
Putting all the fighting and bullet noises on mute, I leaned up towards Steve and pressed my lips against his in a hurried but passionate kiss, one that he had no problem returning. 
“Thank you,” I muttered against them. 
“C’mon,” he urged me along.
We reached outside on the main launch pad in seconds as we tried our best to maneuver and block shots from the Strike team. Steve had called in Sam for a ride after catching his flying shield.
“Wait, we’re not doing what I think we’re doing?” I questioned while slicing my knife alongside someone's face. 
“Trust me, Y/N.” 
“There’s no way he’s going to be able to lift both of us, Steve!” I pulled him to a stop once we were both in the clear. “You go. I’ll find another way up to you.”
“This isn’t up for debate,” Steve demanded. 
I didn’t have a chance to fight back because he had me wrapped in arms once again, jumping off the ledge while a bomb went off behind us. 
Screams clawed their way out of my throat as we fell hundreds of feet down to the ground below. The wind blew around us as we flipped around a few times before I felt some sort of tug, causing us to halt our fall to the ground below. 
“He’s got us,” Steve cooed in my ear. 
Daring to open my eyes, I peaked and breathed a long sigh of relief when I saw Sam flying us back to the landing above us. 
I resisted the urge to kiss the pavement once Sam had let us down on the ground and walked between the two men. 
“You know, you’re a lot heavier than you look,” Sam joked towards Steve. 
“I had a big breakfast,” Steve shrugged with a laugh. 
We weren’t able to bask in the second of happiness because Steve had been knocked off of the landing strip, my screams vibrating off the metal of the ships. 
“STEVE!” 
Looking to my left, my heart hammered in my chest as I saw a metal arm reach towards Sam’s wings as he tried to fly after Steve, and watched in horror as he went flying towards the other end of the landing. 
Suddenly, only for a moment, it was just the two of us; me and Soldat. 
Our eyes locked as I tried to search for any hint of remembrance from him. 
“Soldat,” I breathed. 
His face twitched slightly at the softness of my voice. 
“You don’t have to do this.” I tried to reach for him. “You remember me, I know you do.”
Gun fire erupted from behind me causing me to seek solace behind a plane that had yet to take off. 
“Y/N, are you alright?” Sam’s voice came through my com. 
“I’m fine. Where is Steve?” I asked, not daring to peek around the corner as the bullets continued to rain down around me. 
“I’m still on the helicarrier. Don’t worry about me, I’ll stop the last one. Y/N, stay with Sam.”
Steve’s voice came through the com and deciding not to argue with him, I peaked around the plane and saw Soldat fighting with Sam, both throwing punches left and right. Letting out a shaky breath, I ran up behind Soldat and kicked him behind the knee, him falling to the ground. I tried my best to ignore the pain I would feel in my body when Sam and I continued to fight with Soldat, both taking turns throwing punches and kicks. 
He turned towards me and I felt the wind get knocked out of my lungs when his booted foot met with my stomach, causing me to fly back, landing on my back. 
“That’s going to leave a mark,” I groaned as I felt blood coming from my lips. 
“Five minutes, guys.”
Maria’s voice came through the coms, letting us know that we were getting too close to the window and I wasn’t sure where Steve was at this point. 
Trying my best, I rose to my knees and watched in slight horror as Soldat ripped Sam from the sky, breaking off one of the wings from the Falcon suit. My body was frozen, unable to help him as Soldat kicked Sam off of the helicarrier, him flying blind down towards the ground.
“Sam, are you alright?” I asked, fear laced my words. 
It was silent for a few moments before his voice came through. “Cap! Cap, come in. Are you okay?”
 “I’m still on the helicarrier. Where are you guys?” 
“I’m grounded. The suit’s down. Sorry, Cap.” 
“Y/N, where are you?” Steve’s worried voice wondered. 
Before I could answer, hands wrapped into my hair and yanked me to my feet. My eyes met with the blank ones of Soldat’s and as we stood staring at each other, I felt something deep in my veins, something that I hadn’t felt in a long time with him. 
Fear. 
“If you’re going to kill me, why don’t you do it already.” I sputtered, the kick from earlier causing more problems on my lungs than I had thought. 
“Why are you here?” He questioned. 
I winced at the pain of his metal hand still entangled in my hair. “To stop Hydra.”
The sounds of yelling and gun fire started getting closer towards us, unsure if it was Hydra or SHIELD. 
“I know him,” Soldat’s voice was hushed but I could still hear it. 
“Yes. And you know me. We trained together for months back in Russia. Berge held me captive there; I was your student.” 
His grip on my skull seized and I let out a small breath of relief. “Soldat, I know you remember. No matter how many times they wipe you, you always remember.” 
Raising my hand, I hesitated only for a moment before cupping his cheek hoping that the feeling of my skin on his would bring it all back. Soldat’s body tensed under my hand, his eyes growing. Feelings of love, pain, happiness, and heartbreak engulfed around us, creating this bubble of just the two of us. I could feel Soldat’s pain from all those years as The Winter Soldier and the heartbreak of never seeing his family and friends again. All of his loved ones were taken from him because of Dr. Zola’s plan to make a better soldier; Hydra’s weapon. 
I could also feel the love and happiness from his memories with Steve, back in Brooklyn before the war. The love he had for his mom and sister and how he would do anything to protect them; Steve as well. 
What broke my heart, however, was feeling his pain from what Hydra did to him. They made him a super soldier, like Steve, which is how he survived the fall from the train. They cut off his arm and replaced it with a metal one. Hydra would wipe his memory and put him on ice after every single mission because they didn’t want him to remember anything or anyone.
“You have to remember us. We can save you, Soldat.” I whispered. 
Before he could say a word, members of SHIELD came from behind the plan we were standing next to, guns drawn towards Soldat. 
“Agent Y/N, are you alright?” One of the men asked. 
“I’m fine.” I spoke, not taking my eyes off of Soldat. 
Only having a few seconds to make this decision, I let out a very nervous breath knowing that what I was about to do would have serious consequences for us. 
“He’s on the last helicarrier. I’ll give you a way out.” 
His brows rose in confusion but I ignored his silent question, letting the warmth fill my veins and spreading towards my finger tips. 
“I don’t know how long I can hold them off for. Go. NOW!” I bellowed. 
Fire shot from my hands as I threw fire balls all around me towards the men with guns drawn, allowing Soldat to run towards the helicarrier.
There was a part of me that regretted allowing him to walk away and towards Steve, not knowing what would actually happen between them. But the other part knew I had to let him leave. If there was any chance for him to remember who he was, Steve would be the one to do it. 
The heat from the flames could be felt from miles away as I continued to shoot fire towards the men, trying not to actually hit them. I only wanted them to back away, to allow myself some time to run towards the helicarrier.  
“Agent Y/L/N, on orders from SHIELD we demand that you put your hands behind your back and come with us!” One of the men shouted. 
“There is no more SHIELD!” I bellowed back, the tone of my voice raising a few very high octaves. 
The men dropped their weapons and covered their ears as the sound of my screams. It caused the ground below to shake under our feet. The fire in my hands extinguished and I balled them up into fists. 
“I don’t want to hurt anyone, especially the good guys. So please, let me do what I have to do.” 
When no one objected, I silently thanked them with a small nod before I ran towards the last helicarrier. I had no clue if Steve was able to stop the last one or if Soldat had come in at the perfect time to stop him. 
“Steve, are you there? I’m headed to you.” I spoke into the coms but was met with silence. “Does anyone have any word on Steve?” 
“He did it!” Hill’s voice came through. 
“Fire now,” Steve’s soft voice came through the coms next as I continued to run towards the helicarrier. 
“Steve, no! You have to get off!” I demanded. “You and Soldat need to make it off before we do-.”
“DO IT, NOW!” 
My heart thumped in my chest as I ran faster towards him, hoping he was smart and was able to get off before Maria could finish the last part of our mission; I was wrong. 
I came to a sudden halt and looked up above in horror as the three hellicarries started firing at each other, explosion and debris falling all around me. They slowly started falling down to the ground, one of them crashing directly into SHIELD headquarters. 
Sam’s voice came through, saying he needed some sort of ride, but it was all but white noise to me. I tried my best to avoid the falling debris as I looked for any sign that they were alright. Another helicarrier fell into the river below, leaving the last one slowly falling towards what was left of headquarters. 
“Y/N, stay where you are! We’re coming to pick you up!” Nat’s voice spoke through the com this time. 
“No! Not without them!” I yelled back. 
“That’s not an option! The ship is falling towards you!” Sam’s voice came through again. 
My eyes looked up, however, what caught my gaze wasn't the falling ship. It was the body flying slowly through the air, down towards the river; a body dressed in red, white, and blue. 
“STEVE!” 
Screams erupted from my throat and without giving it a second thought, I jumped off of the landing strip, down towards the river. I mentally prepared myself for the long jump but what I hadn’t prepared for was a piece of the ship crashing into me from behind as I jumped, knocking me unconscious for the way down. 
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Awaking with a startling cough, I felt the air creep back into my lungs as I rolled from my back to my knees, trying to gain my surroundings. Dirt and rocks were underneath my palms and my feet were getting drenched with water. 
Water. 
Looking over my shoulder, I saw someone pulling a body from the river and it suddenly came back. I jumped into the river to save Steve but how did I make it to shore? 
Steve’s body was laid down next to me but before I could see who saved him, I placed my hand on his chest to make sure he was alive. 
“He’s alive.” 
The sun blinded my vision but I knew from the voice who had saved us. 
“Why’d you save us?” I questioned. 
Soldat ignored me then went to turn to walk away but I stood and reached for his hand. “Where are you going?” 
“I don’t know.” He answered with a shrug. 
I noticed his non metal arm was hurt from the fight with Steve. Giving a quick glance over to Steve, I breathed a sigh of relief when I noticed he had turned to his side but was still unconscious. 
Turning back to Sodalt, I was simply shocked he was still here. “You can’t go back to Hydra. Pierce is dead. You can be free, Soldat.” 
“I don’t even know where I would go,” he bit his lip, hoping I wouldn’t see the way it trembled with the fear of the unknown. 
I did. 
He had only known Hydra and was the Winter Soldier. It terrified him to find out who he was; who he truly was before becoming this. Back to being Bucky Barnes. 
Looking back at Steve, it was at that moment that I had made a decision, one I knew my team would not be happy with or would understand. Steve and I had made a promise that once this was all over, we would finally take the next step in our relationship but Soldat needed someone; he needed me. 
“I know a place where you can lay low for a bit.” I stated. 
He shook his head. “I don’t need your help.” 
Ignoring the rudeness in his tone, I knelt down towards Steve and placed a soft kiss on his forehead, bidding him goodbye. Blinking away the tears, I turned back to Soldat and sighed. 
“I’m not letting you leave on your own. You need somewhere to lay low; we both do.” 
He hesitated for a second before nodding. 
We both started walking into the woods and away from the carnage that we helped create trying to take down Hydra. I knew that Steve and the team wouldn’t understand why I was leaving with Soldat, only I could understand. I could only hope that they could forgive me one day. 
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aismoker · 9 months ago
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Only a few weeks ago, the nerd had been brought by his former friends from the chess club to Marlboro Bros. After some initial dificulties, he was now quickly falling in line. Gone were his thoughts about chess, replaced by knowledge about lifting weights and by the bliss of Marlboro.
He was still in the training phase, so he had to wear his ear piece 24/7, but he didn't mind it. His thoughts had already alligned with the messages that were always playing in his ears. Soon, however, his mind would be completely rewired and he wouldn't need the earpiece anymore. The he could go out with his fellow Bros to pick up normies and show them the bliss of Marlboro.
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psycho-pills · 1 month ago
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A Second Life for Strays! ฅ (•˕ •マ.ᐟ sylus x reader fanfic // next
౨ৎ⭑˚ RATING; 18+ (minors do not interact)
౨ৎ⭑˚ PAIRING; sylus x afab!reader (not the mc)
౨ৎ⭑˚ SYNOPSIS; you are a soldier reincarnated into the world of love and deepspace, except you’re not the mc. she still exists. despite looking exactly like her, you don’t sound or act the same. and to make things stranger, cats follow you everywhere.
౨ৎ⭑˚ GENRE/WARNING; angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn, (mutual?) pining, eventual fluff, eventual romance, eventual smut, cursing, graphic descriptions of violence, blood, mental breakdowns, ptsd, death, isekai, reincarnation, cats/cat puns, mc is named serenophe to avoid confusion/reader is not mc
౨ৎ⭑˚ AUTHOR'S NOTE; this is written in third-person limited with she/her pronouns. only the prologue is written in second-person. i use the terms [name] [surname] instead of (y/n) (y/ln) because it's easier for me to write. also, this chapter is basically the synopsis but fleshed out. you can skip the prologue and go to the first chapter, and you won't miss much. anyway, please take all of this into consideration before continuing. besides that, enjoy. uwu
౨ৎ⭑˚ LINKS; ao3 // masterpost // story inspo
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prologue — eight lives later! ౨ৎ⭑˚ word count; >1k
You died.
You feel the impact before you hear the gunshot. A sharp, searing pain tears through your chest like fire spreading through your body. The chaos of modern warfare surrounds you—vibrating explosions, the rumbling of rifles, and the constant murmur of drones. You’re one of thousands. A faceless statistic in a war of shifting fronts and political ambitions. Merely a soldier sent to fight for a cause you barely understand. After your death, your country will replace you ten times over and then ten times more. Each body a cog in an unfeeling machine.
The moment feels weird, as if it has been pulled from the pages of a dream, except you know—you know—this is the end. You lie dying on a grassy field, far from the main warzone. It hasn’t been the ‘enemy’ that caused you to run across the open streets. It wasn’t the orders barking through your earpiece or the desperate cries of your comrades. 
No. It was a cat.
Your final act of rebellion was focused solely on rescuing the tiny bit of humanity left in the desecrated city. In a world that has taken so much from you, perhaps it was time to give this small creature the chance you never got. The kitten is small, dirty, and terrified. Its tiny frame trembles as it meows helplessly in the chaos. Artillery pounds the earth, drones buzz like mechanical insects, and gunfire split echoes in your ears. With rapid shots tearing through the streets and your radio spitting orders to regroup, your legs move on instinct. You dart past the ruins of cars, decaying walls, and flying shrapnel. Like a drug, adrenaline pumps through your veins as you scoop up the cat and cradle it in your arms.
As you dash through the ruined landscape, you feel hands grasping at your feet. Soldiers, either too wounded or mindfucked, cry out for salvation that you can’t offer. You run past them, their voices heavy on your soul. But you keep running—towards the outskirts, where the fighting isn’t as intense—where there’s a chance the kitten can escape the horrors of humankind. However, just as you think you’ve made it, you feel it—the bullet tearing through your body.
Your knees buckle as the force sends you crashing, the kitten still cradled in your arms. The world around you spins. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears, faster and faster, as the warmth of your blood soaks into your uniform and spreads across the grass beneath you. You gasp for air, but it won’t come. The pain in your chest is unbearable, burning with every shallow breath.
You try to move, try to keep going, but your body is failing you. Rolling onto your back, your eyes gaze upon the strikingly blue sky. It’s strangely devoid of clouds and fighter jets. By now, the gunfire and explosions are faint. A vague memory, even. It’s like the war itself is retreating from you. Yet, you can still hear it. Bated screams in the distance, clashing with the rustling of leaves and the soft meows of the kitten.
The last feeling—the last sensation of kindness you feel before drifting off to an eternal slumber is the soft brush of fur nudging your tear-strained cheek. Then, just before everything goes dark, you hear it—a voice, delicate and clear.
“Thank you,” the kitten says—or does it? Perhaps it’s a hallucination brought on by your fading consciousness. But no, you feel sure, if only for that single instant.
Then, there’s nothing. Your final breath leaves you with the warmth of the cat’s nuzzle lingering on your cheek. You died.
Or so you thought.
When your eyes open again, you aren’t greeted with the battlefield. Your body isn’t lying on the cold, blood-stained grass. You’re in a hospital bed. It's clean. Sterile. The sharp beeping of monitors replaces the din of war, and the scent of antiseptic fills your nostrils. You blink, disoriented, and that’s when you see him. A man—tall, composed, and black-haired. He holds a file in one hand and a pen in the other as he stands at your bedside. His name tag glistens in the fluorescent light. Zayne. When he notices you stirring alive, his face dances between surprise and something else. Something hard to decipher.
“You’re awake.” Zayne glances at your file. He squints to confirm your identity. “I’m Dr. Zayne, and you’ll be under my care for the foreseeable future,” he finishes.
The room around you is strange yet familiar. You try to make sense of it—the stark white walls, the quiet thrum of machines, the feathery sensation of your body. You were on the battlefield. You had died. And yet, you’re still here. Alive. In some new reality where the boundaries of love and deepspace collide.
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ao3 // masterpost // next
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