#USUALLY THE *EXACT SAME BULLSHIT AS LAST TIME*

[thetardisisnotourdivision]

The villain of my first book seems really clever and calculating at first. But I know the rest of the series. And it immediately becomes obvious once you know the plot of like books two and three that this woman has ONE move. And somehow it ALWAYS FUCKING WORKS.

[endless-ineffabilities]

The Bolter (part nine) (18+)

Steve Rogers x f!reader / Bucky Barnes x f!reader

synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?

in this chapter : Sam, Bucky, and you head to Madripoor with an unlikely ally. Steve says goodbye to Peggy, then travels in time to where he truly belongs.

themes/warnings : language, even more pining, even more smut!, Zemo being Zemo, Sharon cutting through our bullshit

word count : 5.8k

main masterlist ▪︎ series masterlist

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The 1950s, seven months after Steve’s arrival

Steve sits by the window, watching the fading sunlight pour into the room. For the first time in months, he feels calm—an eerie, unnatural calm, like the eye of a storm. He has come to accept the truth, bitter as might be: this was never his home, and soon, it won’t exist at all.

Mobius had warned him. When he goes back to his timeline, it will be as if none of this ever happened. This branch, this brief stolen life with Peggy, will be pruned. She will never know what they had here. Steve will fade from this time, and she will move on, be with the man she was always meant to be with, and have the children she was destined to have. She will live the life she was always supposed to.

But he will remember everything. He will carry the ache of knowing that none of this was ever really his to keep. 

And deep down, Steve knows it’s the right choice. His normal, whatever semblance of it he can grasp, is always going to be with you. It has always been you with whom he belonged. With his friends. With Bucky. 

His very being is meant for the picket line and not a picket fence.

“Are you ready?” Peggy’s voice breaks the silence, and Steve turns to find her standing in the doorway, looking at him with those sharp, knowing eyes. She has accepted it, just as he has. There���s no anger, no confusion. They’ve had too many talks in the past week about this—about how something always felt off for both of them, like an invisible weight pressing against their happiness. 

“I am,” Steve answers. 

“It didn’t feel right, did it?” she says quietly. 

“No… it didn’t.” He hesitates, the truth weighing heavy. “But I think I know why.”

She steps closer, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. “You don’t belong here, Steve,” she says gently, her voice unwavering. “You belong with them. You belong with the one who truly holds your heart.”

When he lifts his eyes, there’s something new in them. Certainty. “Yeah. I do. But I’m glad we had this. Even if it was never meant to last.”

Peggy’s smile is bittersweet as he presses her hand to his lips. “Me too.” 

Steve nods, his throat tight as he steps away. Hunter pads over, his loyal companion waiting patiently by the door. Mobius and Loki wait in the other room, the quiet harbingers of the life he’s meant to return to.

“Goodbye, Peggy,” he says, for one final time. 

“Goodbye, Steve,” Peggy says, her voice filled with quiet grace. “Go get your girl.”

A shiver runs down his spine. You had said the exact same words when he left you. But it didn’t stick, because he was too stupid to realise that you had always been his girl. He can picture it so well, picture you, and the thought of seeing you again soon inspires an overwhelming happiness in him.

“Ready?” Mobius asks, his usual lighthearted demeanour replaced by something more solemn.

“Yeah,” Steve says quietly. “I’m ready.”

Loki taps the device, and with a flash, Steve’s world shifts.

And just like that, he’s on his way home.

2024, seven months after Steve’s departure

Your first encounter with the Flag Smashers did not go as expected. Or maybe it did. Fighting a bunch of serum-powered radicals – kids, practically – on top of cargo trucks moving at high speed was perhaps the likeliest outcome of this whole thing. After everything you’ve been through, in your decade and a half as the Huntress and all your run-ins with the Big 3, this is just another afternoon, just another mission.

Except the appearance of John Walker threw you in for a loop. Captain America, he calls himself, but there is no chance of you ever addressing him by that name, and you know the same goes for Bucky. John isn’t even carrying the right shield, the only shield, the one Steve brought with him. All he dons is a replica, much like he himself is one. 

Seeing that red, white, and blue paraded around almost made you forget about the kiss you shared with Bucky before the fight. Almost.

But you feel its undercurrent in every moment, you catch glimpses of it when you close your eyes, you feel him… and you know he does too.

The three of you made your way back to New York, recuperating in your apartment, and planning the next move, but what Bucky proposes seems the farthest from sensible.

“Zemo?” Sam stops mid-step. “Tell me you’re joking.”

Bucky doesn’t flinch. “He knows about the serum. More than anyone alive.”

“Yeah, and he’s also the guy who tried to tear the Avengers apart,” Sam counters. His voice is rising, filled with disbelief. “You want to break out a criminal mastermind? For what, a history lesson?”

“I’m not saying I like it,” Bucky says. “But if these Flag Smashers have the serum, then he’s our best chance at understanding what we’re up against.”

You can see Sam’s shoulders stiffen, his eyes wide with incredulity. You, though—your gut reaction is different. Zemo is dangerous, but your concern isn't for yourself or Sam. It’s for Bucky.

You meet his gaze. “Bucky… do you really think you can handle him? Zemo’s not exactly a small problem.”

He looks at you, something quiet and intense behind his eyes. “I can handle it,” he replies. “I have to.”

There’s a finality to his words, but they don’t ease the knot forming in your chest. Sam throws up his hands. “This is madness! I’m just supposed to be okay with busting a guy out of maximum security prison? You people are crazy.”

A moment of silence passes before you let out a resigned breath. “We don’t have much of a choice, Sam. If Bucky thinks this is the way forward, I trust him.”

Sam glares at both of you, then mutters under his breath, “You two have been spending way too much time together.”

The Berlin Correctional Facility is colder than you expected—both literally and figuratively. 

Sam checks his watch, then gives Bucky a sideways glance. “You know, this is the part where I remind you again that this is a bad idea.”

Bucky shrugs, his expression unreadable. “Noted.”

Sam sighs. “I just want it on record that I’m the voice of reason here.”

You smirk, leaning against the wall. “Come on, Sam. What’s life without a little danger?”

“You don’t get to say that when we’re about to break a supervillain out of prison,” Sam deadpans.

The plan, despite its insanity, goes off without a hitch. The guards are neutralized with minimal force, and the security systems go offline like clockwork. You hack into the mainframe to open Zemo’s cell, and when the door finally slides open, you see him—Helmut Zemo, calm and collected, standing there as though he’s been waiting for you all along.

He steps forward, his movements slow and deliberate, like a cat stalking prey. “I must say, I didn’t expect visitors.”

You glare at him, your hackles rising instantly. “Let’s get one thing clear. This is a means to an end. One wrong move, and you go back in.”

Zemo’s lips curl into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Of course. I wouldn’t dream of causing any trouble.”

You don’t believe him for a second.

Zemo’s private jet is the epitome of luxury—plush seats, dim lighting, the hum of the engines barely audible. Chump change compared to what Tony used to travel in, but still. It’s surreal, sitting in this polished environment, knowing you’re en route to one of the most dangerous cities in the world with one of the most dangerous men in the world.

You’re seated across the aisle from Bucky. His body is tense, his fingers twitching in his lap as if he’s holding himself back from something. You wish there was something you could say to ease the weight he’s carrying, but you know better than to push him. Not now. Not with Zemo sitting across from you, watching everything with sharp, calculating eyes.

Zemo leans back in his seat, looking far too relaxed for your liking. “I must say, I’ve always had a fondness for Madripoor. It’s a city of endless possibility, wouldn’t you agree?”

Sam glances up from across the aisle, his expression unimpressed. “Yeah, I’m sure it’s paradise for a guy like you.”

Zemo smiles, but there’s no warmth in it. “It’s a place where the lines between good and evil blur. A place where one can truly be free.”

Your grip tightens on the armrest, and you glance at Bucky. His face is turned toward the window, his jaw tight, eyes dark. You lean closer, keeping your voice low. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” he says, but you can hear the lie in his voice.

You open your mouth to press further, but Zemo speaks up again, cutting through the tension. “It’s interesting, isn’t it? The way history repeats itself.”

You glare at him, your protective instinct flaring. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Zemo’s eyes flicker between you and Bucky, his gaze too knowing for comfort. “It’s just... curious. The way you watch him. The way you stand between us.”

You feel a surge of anger rise in your chest, but you hold it back, keeping your tone steady. “You’re not part of this conversation.”

Zemo chuckles, leaning back. “No need to be defensive. I’m merely an observer. But I must say, the loyalty you show to him... it’s quite touching.”

Bucky shifts beside you, his hand balling into a fist. You place your hand on his arm, silently communicating that Zemo isn’t worth it. 

You warn lowly, “Don’t push it, Zemo.”

Madripoor is a city of lights and shadows, the streets buzzing with a kind of energy that makes your skin crawl. Zemo leads the way, his steps confident as he navigates the underworld with ease. He fits right in, and so do you. You’re not unfamiliar with the city yourself, with many of your contacts residing here. Sam picks at his flashy fur coat, having to wear the guise of the Smiling Tiger, and you have to bite back a laugh.

What you hate is Bucky’s role in this. Zemo insisted that Bucky act the part of the Winter Soldier again, and seeing him slip into that persona makes your stomach turn. You’ve fought so hard to help him leave that part of himself behind, and now he’s being forced to wear it like a mask.

You stick close to Bucky, your eyes constantly scanning the crowd for threats. Your hand brushes his occasionally, a silent reassurance. He doesn’t speak, but you can see the conflict in his eyes, the way his jaw clenches every time someone looks at him like he’s a weapon.

Zemo’s voice cuts through the noise. “Ah, here we are. The Brass Monkey Saloon. You’ll need to put on a show, Soldier.”

Your heart twists at the cold way Zemo refers to him. Soldier. Like Bucky’s nothing more than a tool, a means to an end. You step forward, putting yourself between them.

“Watch yourself,” you snap, your voice low and dangerous. 

Zemo raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by your protectiveness. “Of course. I merely meant that appearances must be kept."

The atmosphere inside the Brass Monkey Saloon is thick with tension. Zemo’s plan, of course, involves a show of force. Bucky takes on the role, fists flying, and you stand helplessly on the sidelines, watching as he dismantles anyone who stands in your way. You can see the fear in the faces of the crowd, the whispers of “Winter Soldier” passing between them.

When the chaos finally subsides, Zemo steps forward, calm and collected. “Very convincing, James,” he says, clapping Bucky on the shoulder.

You can’t help yourself. “Don’t touch him.”

Zemo leads the way to Selby’s hideout, the plan already set. You, Bucky, and Sam follow close behind, nerves taut. You can feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on you, recognizing not just the Winter Soldier, but the Huntress.

Inside Selby’s lair, things unravel faster than you can react. The exchange was supposed to be smooth—get the information on the serum, figure out who’s behind the Flag Smashers. But Selby, sly and dangerous, catches on too quickly. The words turn heated, tension thick in the air. When the situation escalates, a gunshot rings out, and Selby collapses to the floor.

Everything goes to hell. 

Selby’s guards surge forward, the entire operation blown to pieces. You don’t even have time to think before the room erupts into chaos, bullets tearing through the air. 

Bucky grabs your arm, pulling you toward the exit. “We need to move!”

The narrow alleyways of Madripoor are a maze, and no matter how fast you run, the sound of pursuit is never far behind. Your heart pounds in your chest, adrenaline surging as you push forward, leading the way through the twisting streets.

“I can’t run in these heels!” Sam yells, his voice tight with effort as he ducks behind cover.

The sound of gunfire grows louder, and just when it seems like you’re cornered, Sharon Carter appears from the shadows, her expression all business. 

“You guys really know how to make an entrance.”

The tension in Sharon Carter’s loft is thick enough to choke on. You can’t deny the relief that floods through you at her arrival—she’s saved you from the brink more than once—but the comfort quickly dissolves the second she opens her mouth. Sharon’s never been one to coddle, and it’s clear she’s ready to let you know exactly what she thinks about this whole situation.

Her apartment reflects her new life in Madripoor: sleek, stylish, and modern, with a hint of danger lurking beneath the surface. The large windows offer a panoramic view of the chaotic city below, bathed in the neon glow of a world where morality has always been in short supply. You’re reminded of who Sharon has become—the Power Broker, controlling Madripoor’s criminal underworld from behind the scenes. And yet, she’s still the woman you fought beside, the woman you trusted implicitly. Your friend. 

“You’ve made a mess of Madripoor,” Sharon says, leaning casually against the bar, one eyebrow raised as she surveys the room. Her eyes flick between you, Bucky, Sam, and Zemo, her smirk cutting. She takes a slow sip from her glass, her posture relaxed. “You’re lucky I showed up when I did.”

“Yeah, we didn’t exactly have time to send out a save-the-date,” Sam mutters, his voice dripping with sarcasm, though you can tell he’s thankful. Sharon’s saved you all from a sticky situation—again.

Her gaze shifts to you, and that smirk widens, a playful but knowing glint in her eyes. “Still running around with these boys, huh? After everything?”

There’s an edge to her words, something that cuts deeper than you expected. Sharon’s always had a way of seeing through you, right to the heart of things. But this time, her words carry an extra weight. You know what’s coming before she even says it, but it still feels like a punch to the gut when she does.

Her eyes dart to Bucky, who’s standing tense and silent beside you, his shoulders tight. Then, they come back to you, her lips curling slightly. “You and Steve were… close. And now, here you are, keeping Bucky in check.” She pauses just long enough to make it sting. “Seems like you’ve got a type.”

Your stomach twists, and you catch the slight flicker of movement from Bucky, the way his fists clench at his sides. His face remains stoic, but you know him well enough to see the storm brewing underneath. Sharon’s words have struck a nerve. 

“What?” you say, keeping your voice even, though there’s a sharpness to it. Your heart races, and you try to keep the emotion out of your voice.

"Wow," Bucky mutters dryly, "she's kind of awful now."

Sharon shrugs, feigning casualness, but her eyes gleam with amusement at you. “It’s just… interesting. You and Cap. And now Cap’s best friend. Two men who can’t escape their own shadows. You seem to have a thing for complicated.”

You bite back your immediate retort, but before you can respond, Zemo—because of course he has to chime in—speaks up, lounging against the wall with that smug, knowing look that makes you want to punch him. “Ah, the familiar,” he says, voice silky. “It’s natural to seek comfort in something... predictable. But I wonder, how much of this is about James, and how much is simply because he reminds you of your precious Captain Rogers?”

You feel the room go cold, and the weight of Zemo’s words settles like a stone in your chest. The air around Bucky shifts, his calm demeanour fracturing just enough for you to see the tension rippling beneath. His posture stiffens even more, his jaw tight, but he doesn’t speak. The silence is worse than anything he could say.

“Leave him out of this,” you snap, your voice barely above a whisper, but the threat is clear. Zemo’s eyes gleam, dark and dangerous, but he raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Of course,” Zemo says, his smile widening. “But… leave who out of it? Which one?”

Sharon watches you closely, her smirk fading slightly as she steps closer. For the first time since she spoke, her gaze softens. She knows you—really knows you. The unspoken history between you feels heavy in the air. She tilts her head, studying you with a sharpness that you’ve come to expect from her.

“Can I have a word?” Sharon asks, her voice quieter now, almost gentle.

You nod, barely noticing the others as Sharon gestures for you to follow her into a more private corner of the apartment, away from the tense stares of Bucky and Zemo. Once you’re out of earshot, Sharon leans against the wall, crossing her arms. The playful glint is still in her eyes, but there’s a seriousness there too.

“You know I don’t mean to be harsh,” she says, her voice quieter, more personal. “But you and I... we’ve always been able to call it like it is.”

You exhale, your shoulders sagging slightly. “Yeah, well, some things are harder to call than others.”

Sharon watches you for a long moment, her gaze searching your face. “It’s been a long time since Steve left. I get it. I do. But you and Bucky...” She trails off, her eyes flicking back toward him. “You’re not fooling anyone. Least of all me.”

You swallow, unsure how to respond. You’ve spent so long trying to navigate your own emotions, keeping them at bay. But here, it feels impossible to ignore any longer.

Sharon takes a step closer, her expression softening. “He’s not Steve. And I know you know that. But Bucky—he’s been through hell too. And I see the way you look at him. The way he looks at you.”

Your throat tightens, and for a moment, you can’t speak. Sharon does have a way of cutting through the bullshit, of seeing things for what they really are. 

“I’m not—” you start, but Sharon cuts you off with a small, knowing smile.

“I’m not saying it’s the same as what you had with Steve,” she says. “But maybe that’s a good thing. Bucky’s different. And maybe that’s what you need.”

You glance back toward Bucky, who’s still standing with his back to you, his shoulders tense, his hands curled into fists at his sides. You can feel the weight of his emotions, the way Zemo’s and Sharon’s comments have hit him harder than he’s letting on. You want to go to him, to tell him it’s okay. That he doesn’t have to be Steve. That you don’t want him to be.

But there’s a part of you that’s still tangled up in the past—in Steve’s shadow.

Sharon places a hand on your arm, pulling your attention back to her. “Listen,” she says, her voice gentle but firm. “Whatever this is with Bucky... don’t let it slip away because you’re still holding onto something that’s gone. Steve’s not coming back. But you’ve still got a chance—with him.”

You take a deep breath, nodding slightly, but the knot in your chest doesn’t loosen. Sharon squeezes your arm, offering a small smile before she steps back, her smirk returning as she glances toward the others.

“All right,” she says, her voice louder now, more playful. “Enough emotional introspection for one night. Let’s figure out how to get you out of Madripoor before you make an even bigger mess.”

Zemo, lounging against the wall with a glass in his hand, raises an eyebrow as you sit down beside Bucky. He doesn’t say anything, but his smirk is enough to get under your skin. It’s like he can feel the emotional turbulence swirling around you.

Sharon saunters back into the room, her heels clicking against the polished floor, a confident ease in her step. “Well, now that we’ve aired out some of that dirty laundry, maybe we can focus on the job at hand?”

Sam, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet through all of this, gives Sharon a look. “Yeah, and maybe we can talk about why you didn’t feel the need to mention how deep you are in Madripoor’s criminal scene, huh?”

Sharon doesn’t miss a beat, throwing him a cocky grin. “I’m an opportunist, Sam. Madripoor offers a lot of opportunities.”

Sam mutters something under his breath, clearly not satisfied with that answer, but it’s clear Sharon has no intention of explaining herself further. And you don’t push her on it either, even though you’re the only one here who knows exactly what her role is in this city. You’ve never questioned her decisions before—everyone has to survive somehow—but seeing her now, it’s hard not to wonder if she’s lost herself in the shadows.

“I trust you’ll all stay out of trouble until I arrange our next move?” Sharon says, her eyes flicking back to you, a knowing glint in her gaze. It’s subtle, but you can tell she’s still watching you closely, assessing everything—especially your unspoken bond with Bucky.

Before anyone can respond, she turns and walks out of the room.

After escaping the chaos and making it back to Zemo’s safe house in Riga, the adrenaline finally starts to fade. It’s well past midnight when you make your way into your designated bedroom. You drop onto the bed, your heart still racing, trying to calm the storm of emotions churning inside you.

Sleep never comes easy to you—a side effect of your chosen life. One of high stakes and adrenaline. A lot more losses than wins, if any of your successful missions can even be considered wins at all.

After an hour of staring up at the ceiling, your eyes tracing the curves of the rosettes, Bucky enters your room, as noiseless as a cat. You raise your head sharply on instinct, but relax as soon as you see his figure. His shoulders are slumped as if the weight of the world rests upon them. He glances at you, and you can see the struggle etched across his face.

“Can’t sleep?” you ask, sitting up and patting the space beside you on the bed.

He purses his lips, not saying anything for a moment. After a while, and with a resounding sigh, he settles at the foot of the bed, his back to you.

“What you saw back there…” he starts, his voice low. “That wasn’t me. I’m not the Winter Soldier anymore.”

“I know,” you say softly, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder soothingly. “I’ve always known. You’re just Bucky.”

“I don’t… I don’t want to ever lose control,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

“You won’t,” you say firmly, shuffling closer to him. “You have me.”

Bucky turns halfway, meeting your gaze. “I want to prove to you that I’m not him,” he says, his voice thick with conviction. 

Your throat suddenly feels dry. You don’t know anymore if he’s referring to the Winter Soldier or Steve. You can tell that Sharon’s comments rattled him. You’re familiar with her humour, so you know that she didn’t mean anything negative by what she said, but Bucky might have easily taken them to heart.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” you whisper. 

His gaze softens, and then he’s leaning in, capturing your lips with his. There is no goddamn way you’re falling asleep now, with the fire he’s igniting within you. You pull him closer, your hands threading through his hair as he deepens the kiss. 

“Are you sure?” you whisper against his lips, breathless. A roll in the hay at the height of a high-risk mission is not beneath you, especially with someone like Bucky. With these things, a heated release of pent-up tension might be just what you need. But you want to be sure that he needs it too. That he needs you. 

He nods, eyes searching yours. “I want this. I want you.”

In one fluid motion, he takes your lips again, this kiss softer, more deliberate. He relishes in you, taking his sweet time, his tongue raking the outline of your lips. You melt against him, feeling the warmth of his body pressing against yours, as well as the cool of his left arm wrapping around your torso. 

“Bucky,” you breathe, breaking the kiss momentarily.

“Just Bucky,” he replies, his voice thick with emotion.

He tugs you against him, the two of you moving in a slow, sensual dance. You feel the weight of everything—the mission, the past, the chaos—slipping away as you lose yourselves in each other. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer, as you taste the sweetness of his tongue.

“I want you,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “I want to show you how much you mean to me.”

You shiver at his words, the sincerity behind them sending a rush of heat coursing through your veins. “Then show me,” you whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.

The world tilts slightly as he lays you back against the soft sheets. He hovers above you, his expression a mix of desire and reverence, as if he’s afraid to touch something so precious.

“You’re so beautiful, doll,” he breathes, his gaze travelling over you as if memorising every detail, and you suddenly forget how to speak. 

You’ve never considered yourself meek by any means, always able to stand your ground. The last time you’ve actually felt shy, and felt blood rush to your face at the attention of an admirer was with….

You shake Steve out of your thoughts.

“It’s just me,” you say, mirroring his earlier words.

His lips curve into a soft smile, and you can see the flicker of warmth behind the shadows that often cloud his expression. “Just you is everything,” he replies, his voice dropping to a whisper.

His hands slide under your shirt, fingers brushing against your skin, igniting every nerve ending. The sensation is overwhelming, and you gasp against his mouth, the heat pooling low in your belly.

“So perfect,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck, kissing a path along your collarbone. Each soft touch leaves a trail of fire, and you can’t help but arch into him, your body instinctively seeking more.

“Bucky,” you gasp, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as if you can fuse your bodies into one. “Please.”

His response is immediate. He pushes your shirt up, baring your torso to him, and you feel exposed yet completely alive under his gaze. Then he leans down to press soft kisses along your midriff. The sensation is electric, maddening even, as he drifts ever lower. 

Bucky lifts his head, meeting your gaze with a burning intensity. “Let’s make this moment last,” he murmurs, his eyes darkening with desire as he shifts his weight, settling between your legs. His hands find the hem of your pants, his fingers grazing your skin as he slowly pushes them down your legs, along with your underwear, revealing you completely to him.

“Bucky,” you moan, when he kisses a trail along your inner thigh. “Patience, doll,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine. You watch him as he continues his exploration, his kisses drifting higher until he reaches your core, and the breath hitches in your throat when he sucks at your aching bud.

The heat builds, swirling around you as he loses himself in you, the world outside fading away completely. You can feel the tension tightening in your belly, a delicious coil that threatens to snap.

“I’m getting close,” you breathe after a long while, the words almost lost amidst a long bout of incoherent moaning. You reach down and roughly push his face into your pussy, wantonly craving more as his tongue laps at your juices. 

Bucky responds with a growl, his hands gripping your hips as he pushes you closer to the edge. “Let go,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with desire. “I’ve got you.”

With those words, you explode, pleasure crashing over you in waves as you cry out his name. He holds you tightly, a steady anchor as you ride the waves of ecstasy, feeling more alive than ever.

As the pleasure subsides, you gasp for breath, your heart racing as you come down from the high. “You okay?” Bucky asks, hovering over you and brushing a stray hair from your face.

You nod, your body still buzzing from the aftermath. “Better than okay,” you reply, a smile creeping across your lips.

He chuckles, the sound resonating deep within his chest, a rich, warm sound that makes your heart swell. For all his worries about falling back into the darkness, you find that he is slowly becoming your source of light. 

“I want you to know,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, “that was only the beginning.”

“Oh really?” you tease, raising an eyebrow, letting your fingers trace along the contours of his vibranium arm.

“Yeah, babydoll,” He grins wolfishly, and you’re glad to see this playful side of him resurfacing. 

You roll on your side, pressing a playful kiss to his lips. “Well, I’m all for that.”

He undresses in a haste, his motions careless and frantic that his black shirt gets stuck around his head, earning a giggle from you. His groans are muffled when he protests, “It’s not funny.”

You reach up to help him out of it. “It’s kinda funny.”

When he’s finally free of the confines of cotton, his hair is all mussed. He looks downright adorable that you could just melt at the sight. But then he frees himself of his trousers too, his thick cock bobbing erect from his boxers, the vein running down its side angry and swollen. 

He’s not just adorable; he’s sensual, virile, erotic.

And you want him so fucking badly.

But he beats you to that admission. “You drive me crazy,” he rasps, his hands massaging your sides. “In the best way possible.”

“I could say the same about you.” There’s a teasing glint in your eyes as you lean back slightly, letting your fingers wander down his chest, tracing the solid lines of his body, each muscle taut and inviting. He groans softly at your touch, his head dropping slightly as his control wavers. 

He positions himself just right, teasing at first, his breath ragged as he enters you slowly, inch by inch. The stretch is exquisite, your body tightening around him as a disjointed gasp escapes your lips. His jaw clenches, eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment as he savours the sensation.

“You feel so good, doll,” he groans, his voice hoarse with restraint. There’s a primal hunger in the way he looks at you—like he’s claiming you, and that realisation ignites something deep within you.

You meet his thrusts, your hands gripping his back, nails biting into his skin as he starts to move. His rhythm is slow at first, deliberate, as though he’s drawing out every moment of pleasure, letting it pool deep inside you. Each thrust pushes deeper, more intense, as he slams his pelvis into you.

“You’re mine,” he growls, his voice dripping with possessiveness, his lips brushing against your neck before he bites down softly, enough to make you moan his name.

“Fffuck, yes, Bucky—”

“You’re so tight,” he gasps, his voice thick with need as he watches your reactions, the way your body responds to him. “God, you feel incredible.”

Before you can respond, he shifts his angle, driving into you harder, deeper. Your knees are pressed together, pointed to one side as he lifts your hips slightly. Every time he ruts into you, he hits that fleshy, sweet spot in your cunt. 

“Yes, Buck!” you gasp. “Just like that.”

“Look at me,” he demands, his voice barely above a growl. “I want you to remember this every time you think of him.” His words are punctuated with a dangerous tinge that almost makes them sound like a threat. A warning. 

“Want you to fall apart around me, doll. Go on. Cum on me,” he commands. His movements grow frenzied, his body shaking with intense pleasure as he drives his cock mercilessly into your core.

You practically scream out hoarsely, the sound mingling with his as he follows you into bliss, his hot seed filling you completely.

Bucky collapses beside you, panting, and you turn to face him, a blissful smile breaking across your lips.

“That was fucking incredible,” you whisper. 

He catches his breath, his fingers trailing along your cheek, his gaze softening. “You have no idea how much I needed that,” he admits. 

“I can kind of tell,” you tease lightly. 

He smiles, a wicked glint in his eyes as he leans in, brushing his lips against yours again. “You’re amazing.”

You smile back, despite the pang of wistfulness in your heart. Because even as his memory lingers, you can feel yourself falling deeper for Bucky. 

“Thank you,” you say sincerely, “So are you, Buck.” You take a breath, the words caught in your throat, as you desperately attempt to address whatever it is that needs to be addressed, but he sees the turmoil in your eyes, and gently cradles your face with one hand.

“I’m sorry, I don’t… I don’t know…” you mumble. 

“Hey,” he says, offering a soft smile, “it’s okay, it’s okay.” You feel hopeless—it should be you consoling him. About whatever this is, and how the memory of Steve continues to complicate everything. Perhaps it always will. But here he is, carrying that burden for the both of you.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, a gesture carrying nothing but tenderness. 

Maybe even love.

“I’m with you, doll,” he promises. “Until the end of the line.”

taglist (let me know in the comments if you wish to be added!) : @vicmc624 @littleliyah16 @babezawa @klammykayla @justsebstan @blue--ingenue @numblytemporary @bradshawass @delicious-xx @mrsevans90 @heartarianagran @tinystarfishgalaxy @mochibochinochi @spngingerbread21 @zbeez-outlet @rena15 @raging-panda @marveldaydreamer @integers @imthebadguyyy @iidear @blackhawkfanatic @smhnxdiii @nommingonfood @loki-laufeyson68 @queenofshinigamis @samkickikc @utterlyhopeful-fics @mthealy @angelbabyyy99 @rabbitrabbit12321 @cloudroomblog @haruvalentine4321 @pommblog @yujyujj @thetorturedbuckydepartment @sanoorie1 @cjand10 @micasaessakusa @croftyspock90 @froobaloob @mavrellover91 @dexter99 @barnes70stark @ordelixx @radiantdanvers @chaotic-wanda @mrsnikstan @otterlycanadian @baw1066 (continued in comments...)

Some notes in the margins:

I'm kinda rushing through the events of tfatws, but I want to reach a certain point in time for Steve to make his entrance!

Writing this made me really, really feel for Bucky. My allegiance sways every week. I don't know what to do 😫🥲

oh, and the header images have been updated to include our Buck! As always, I am keen to know what yous think about this chapter 💙💙💙

[salemlunaa]

I might just be overthinking this but (this is lengthy, I wanted to explain as best I could)

I’ve been procrastinating the void for three years now it’s crazy. I haven’t got insane yet, but I have this terrible routine of going throughout the day wanting to enter the void but when I come home and it’s time for bedtime and all that suddenly want to enter leaves this magical third-party force making me do this. It’s a conscious choice. I just don’t get why I keep setting myself up for this disappointment every single day. 

Ive gone through all the reasonings. Even tho this current life makes me nothing but unhappy, tired, and I constantly feel like a shell of myself but it’s what I’m used to another thing I’ve noticed is I only want to enter the void when I’m actively doing something I don’t like like I’m at work or I’m at school or I’m doing homework but when I’m laying down in my bed I guess I’m not inconvenience so I guess I just tell myself all is OK even though there’s this voice deep down screaming at me to just enter the void because I know I’m gonna be disappointed and irritated myself next morning if I don’t, and I always just ignore it.

I don’t know if it’s because I prefer to imagine my dream life at a safe distance in just my head as insane as that sounds. I used to think I was afraid of change, but it’s not that cause I’ve always adapted to it. Well, I guess it was just usually not really my choice I had to. I’ve come to terms with the fact that there’s no way for me to prepare for a life. I haven’t experienced. I’m over that. I know. I deserve to live an stress-free fun life after the bullshit I’ve gone through. I mean, clearly I don’t want enough but at the same time I clearly do because I keep screaming at myself to just do it. I don’t know why my procrastination or laziness or stubbornness. I don’t know why I let it overpower that

Four years probably since I don’t know at least fifth or sixth grade I believe that somehow someway they’re just has to be away I can get the dream life I’ve been dreaming of. I don’t know why, but I just feel like something can do it for me like there’s no way I’m destined to live this shitty ass life, and now that I found the power to do so now I just keep pushing it back. Oh I’ll do it later even though I’m wanted this for years since I was probably 11, im 20 now, I found out about his whole community when I was 17 on a Saturday evening binge eating fruit snacks.

Im just so frustrated with myself, how I can allow myself to keep making my own suffering at this point, I know all the why but I don’t understand the why. Why I keep doing this to myself and how to stop it, I try to think and understand it everyday. I want to enter the void and get the life I deserve and I don’t plan on giving up ever.

Ik this is super long so thank you so much for answering if you do. can I be your 🌶️🥒 (spicy dill) anon, if that’s still a thing?

hi love🌶️🥒

you have the exact same problem that majority of this community has so please don’t feel lonely. A lot of people spend their days doing nothing at all and wait for the last second to apply.

you are not destined to live a shitty life, you get to craft your own life and i know it can be comforting imagining that from afar, but if you really want it you have to lock in, like really, you actually have to try.

I don’t want you to waste any more years like this so some advice i will give you is whenever you have any free time include the void, try and if it “fails” go back to what you know is true, relaxation and detachment and try again.

This is such a common problem in the community and your story will resonate with so many people, so to everyone reading this go an apply, stop killing time 💋💋

[tan1shere]

can you PLAHESE make more Eva x fem!reader i don’t have like an idea but im thinking one of evas therapy sessions get a lil freaky

(idk this my first time asking for something lol, if you cant thats cool)

You're No Good For Me

Eva x female reader !

A/n: Oh gurl I just had the PERFECT idea for one, yes it's inspired by the song slightly 😇

Summary: you and Eva have known eachother for awhile, you go and spend your break at the place she lives, when you were in the therapy room together, things turn into something else. Something more.

Warnings: smut smut and more smut ! Scissoring guys 🤭 fingering, soft dom Eva, sub reader - and I think that's about it, enjoy !!!

Masterlist

You had to clear your mind, so this was the exact place to do that. Eva was an old friend who you had known for years, the both of you were texting one day when she suggested you come down for a long weekend to set your mind at ease. You never exactly knew what she did but you agreed nonetheless. Once you got there you head up to the door, knocking on it. And there she was. "Eva." You smile, going to hug her. "Hey you." She kindly leaves a kiss on your cheek. "Missed you." She finishes. Pulling back to place her hands on your face. "You look good." She grins. You smile again. "Too kind, but so do you my goodness!"

She lets you into the house helping you with your luggage. "I'll put them in the room you'll be sleeping in." You thank her, looking around the beautiful house. You saw some other girls wandering around. It made you think what she actually did, it was probably time you asked her. As she came back, she began to show you around. There was so much to the house, many rooms, big spaces. It was very beautiful. "I've been meaning to ask - out of curiosity." You then pipe up, making her look at you. "What do you even do? What is this place?" She smiles that intoxicating smile. Maybe you had, had a crush on her when you were younger. Is that feeling still there?

Because that just sent a shiver down your spine. "We run a female empowerment group. Just me and the girls that live here." She turns back around to continue the tour. But something felt off, was that fully the truth? Why did you get the feeling it was so much more than that. You knew Eva, and she seemed a little bit different. Especially with how she acted with the others. Although she didn't seem to do that with you. She knew how you saw her from all those years ago, she didn't want to blow anything and scare you. But if anything you were just more intrigued.

It had been a few days, you got to know some of the girls that lived there, doing little activities with them. You eventually started piecing it together on what was really happening. You were currently just drinking a tea, while sitting on a small sofa in the living room. When Eva comes in. "Join me?" Your head pops up from out of your book. "What for?" You asked. "Just come with me, ok?" You reluctantly get up, following her. "You're not gunna kill me are you?" You then say, half joking. For the first time Eva showed more emotion in her features while looking at you. "What are you on about?" You laugh a tiny bit. "Nuthinn." She still looks at you bewildered. You then reach a room, it was quite dark in there.

The only source of light was coming from the circular window on the wall. She sits down on a small pillow, encouraging you to do the same with the other that's infront of her. You slowly do. "I usually do therapy lessons but I feel like we haven't spoken much over the last few days. Gives us a chance to in here, away from everything." You nod at her statement. When a silence was being cascaded across the dimly lit room. "Are you going to tell me what this place really is?" She just looks at you. "I told you babe, female-"

"That's bullshit." You cut her off.

"Eva, just tell me." - "You aren't going to brainwash me are you?" You laugh a tiny bit. She knew how smart you were and that you caught onto what this place truly was. "I've known you since we were kids. And this is only for a weekend. Plus I don't brainwash I persuade." Your eyebrow raises. "Y/n it's me, just trust that." You take a moment, but you always trusted her, you knew she wasn't going to force you to stay with any kind of words. But she also knew you'd willingly come back to see her. Ever since you were younger there was something between the two of you. She knew that your friendship would last a long time, so she had no worries.

"I don't need to tell you then. Your smart-ass figured it out." She tilts her head forward slightly, having a tiny smirk on her face. Her head then tilts to the side as she leans forward. "You know I think about you often." She admits. "That so?" You ask intrigued, a small grin plastered on your own face. "Well I mean I'm sure the feelings mutual." She then adds, making your eyebrow raise again. "Says who?" Her smirk widens. "Well you did have a crush on me as teens." For some reason that makes your body stiffen. You never thought she actually had suspicions about it. "I don't know what-" But her face gets impossibly close.

"Don't even finish that sentence, because we both know I'm telling the truth." You were, silenced. "Still know how to zip it when told. Noted." You stare into her eyes. The perfect ocean blue. Except they had something more taunting in them now. Almost challenging. "So what if I did." You then speak. She looks down at your lips. "Yeah?" Silence. Her eyes meet your own. "Feelings mutual baby." As soon as she uttered those words you grabbed her face and kissed her, it was hasty. Feverish. Her hands move to place them on your thighs, getting you to lay back on the floor. You then pull away. "Won't someone come in-?"

Your worried expression just makes her grin. "Nah, rules are no one comes in here til I come back out. Even if they need me for something." You breathe out a relieved sigh. When her lips are back on yours in an instant. "To be honest-" You began as she kissed your neck. You always were a blabber. "I don't even know why-" your words cut short as she bit down, causing a small noise to come out of you. But nonetheless you continued. "-I liked you.. you were kind of bitchy to me- teen years." You breathe as her face comes in view with your own.

"Really huh? Bitchy?" You shrugged. "Ever think that was my way of saying, 'hey you're so fucking hot I just have to have you?'" Her eyebrows raise in question. Your face goes totally still. "That shut you up." Once again her smirk returns. Her soft lips returned to your neck, leaving a small mark. Your eyes flutter close. Was this really happening right now? "Ever since those years you've invaded my mind." Her hands move to pull the straps down on your dress, surprised you had no bra on. But she was definitely not complaining.

Her hands make contact with your tits, kneading gently. You gasp a tiny bit, still having your eyes closed. A small whimper leaves you as her lips travel down to them. She takes her sweet time, worshiping every sliver of skin around your breast. She was soft, but definitely firm with her intentions. "We-" You gulp back a moan, causing her to look up at you. "What? Dont think we should be doing this?" You nod ever so slightly, just a tad worried. She grabs your jaw getting you to open your eyes and look at her. "I promise. It's just you. And me." Her eyes stare into your own, and for some reason you just trust her by that single look.

Grabbing her face again and bringing her down to kiss you. Maybe you did still have a crush on her, maybe that feeling was still lingering. Her hands make their way down your body. Her fingers teased the thin fabric that laid under your summer dress. "Please.." You breathe, just wanting it to finally happen. "Eva please." You grew needier when she wouldn't budge. But that only causes your eyes to open again, looking to see her staring down at you. "Patience." She then says as your eyes meet. It was a warning. She was making clear that she was in control here. You whine with annoyance until you feel her hands back on your jaw.

"Uh uh, don't do that. You'll get what you want." Her fingers danced around your face delicately, moving down to your neck. "With time.." She finishes. "Being sooo good for me though." You swallowed at her tone, God she was even more mesmerizing than years ago. Her hands move under your dress, pulling your underwear off, letting out a satisfied hum. "Haven't even touched you and you're sopping." Her fingers go to touch. "Was it my words? My voice?" You're in a daze when you hear her fingers snap. Causing your attention to be back on her. "You wanna answer me pretty girl?" Your eyes meet. "Y-yes.. your voice.." Her face shone with admiration. "Your touch..." You carry on. As you soon feel her fingers sliding into you, you're gone.

Head back, arching just slightly to feel more. The worry of someone walking in fading away. "Keep going, know you can. Tell me." Her voice was like a drug. Her fingers curl inside you, feeling your gummy walls suck her in. You gasp at the feeling. "Come on, just want to hear it. Unless you want me to stop, is that it?" A fake concerned, pitty look is on her face. You swallow hard. "N-no please don't." She hums lightly. "What, else." - "Y- your eyes.. and-" Your lids screw shut as she suddenly adds another finger, making you stretch like crazy. "Fuck!" But her hand is quickly over your mouth.

"Quiet angel, not too loud." Her hand slowly moves but you grab it. "And.. your lips." You continue, grabbing her finger lazily. Sticking it in your mouth and sucking. She's impressed with all your sudden obedience. "That's better. Good, girl." Your eyes roll back as her pace quickens once again and you feel it. It gets harder for her to move before she pulls them out. You let out a whiny cry around her finger.

"I know my girl I know." She soothes. But Eva truly meant that, she wanted you to cum. But she needed it. To be against her. "You're being so incredibly good I just need to do something ok?" She pulls her finger out of your mouth as your face is tired, pouty. "Awww." She bites her lip at your face currently, it was too precious for words. "You're just so sweet."

"Just like all those years ago." She began, standing up to take the layers of clothes she was wearing. You watch intently. "Always nose deep in those books, not giving a care in the world. Style is still the same. Always made me want to rip those dresses off your beautiful body." Your head falls back as you couldn't keep it up any longer. "Eva-" You were about to say something else when you felt something warm and so soft on your cunt. Causing a moan to escape you. "And i get to fuck her raw." She breathes the words out. Your eyes open so quick.

Looking down at where you two were connected, her pussy against your own, making your mouth hang open. They fit perfectly together, your wetness making it easy for her to grind against you, the pleasure building up again for the both of you. "What if I told you I craved you." She then says, her velvety voice making you ache for her to speed up. A tiny whimper leaving you in the process. Your eyes shut again.

Focusing on the pleasure she's giving you. But she was teasing, causing you to whine. You just needed it. Her. But she needed to hear you say it, beg for her. "Please fuck me." You moan out, having your eyes closed. "What was that?" You let out an annoyed whimper. But you open your eyes to be in line with hers, they were full of adrenaline, lust. "Speak." - "Please just fuck me Eva please!" And so she does, more intensly fucking against your cunt. The feeling was everything, she felt way too good against you. "Mmm Eva." You whine out, going to grip her arms.

She leans over you, your breasts touching one another's as she grinds harder against you. Her head rests in your neck, kissing, biting sucking. "I'm so close don't stop!" You blab as if she was going to do that. She was enjoying this too much. As she ruts against you a moan of her own is let past her lips, against your neck and ringing in your ears. It was so hot you might cum from that alone. She balances on her hands still hovering above you. Face, to face.

"Cum against me, know you can." She breathes, out of breath herself, matching your ragged breathing, chest rising and falling fast. The eye contact increases every sensation you were both feeling. "Fuck, you really are an angel.. look at you.." She moans. "Eva- i-" She nods. "With me, come on baby." She says when you both shortly after cum against the other. The feeling was even better than you had anticipated. Your head falling back completely against the hardwood floor. Catching your breath and so was she. Until you make eye contact again, no words. No nothing. Just a beautiful silence.

Maybe she was brainwashing you. But at the same time she wasn't. You were just so intoxicated by her and you had to stay.

"Do you think we'll be inlove?"

"I count on it."

[tkaulitzlvr]

hii I absolutely adore ur writing and I was wondering if maybe you could write something where like tom attempts to do no nut November but fails and it ends with smut??? Thank youuu💗

CAN’T RESIST - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: wierdly, tom is determined to get through the entire month of november with zero sex, having failed within the first few days for the past five years you have been together. you have other ideas, focused on getting him to crack, becoming desperate yourself.

content: smut

a/n: omg i loveeee this idea thanku sm for the request!! the way u sent this at like the start of november and i’m only just posting it i’m so sorry - i’ve had like the first paragraph written for a couple weeks😭also tom would def fail nnn on november 1st at 00:01am he is not lasting a second…

“oh my god.” tom pants, pulling out of me and climbing off of my limp frame, rolling to lay beside me, his chest heaving up and down as beads of sweat line the soft skin. “don’t know how i’m gonna last a whole month without this schatz.”

his confession doesn’t come as a surprise, in fact it is the exact opposite. tom is the horniest person i have ever met, and usually, he can’t go a day without sex - whether it be something rushed and desperate in public, or a long night of raw passion between the sheets, he can’t live without sex, which is why i am so surprised that he is attempting to go through with this whole ‘no nut november’ bullshit. he won’t last a second, and deep down i think he knows that too. though after the hours that he has spent inside of me, deciding to use the entirety of today - october 31st, the day before he had to give up his uncontrollable desires - fucking me just about anywhere he could, stating that it will ‘make up for the lost time’ and ‘make it a little easier for him’, i don’t see how he could even have the energy to do anything remotely sexual for the next month, his body spent and exhausted as it collapses beside me.

“i can’t believe you’re actually doing this.” a small giggle leaves my lips amidst the shaky breaths, hands pulling the sheets upward and over my naked body before snuggling into his frame, wrapping my arm loosely across his chest. “you know that you won’t even last a day, right?”

“this means no sex for you too you know.” his eyebrow raises, eyes tiredly meeting mine with a hint of mischief, thinking that he has caught me out, though he doesn’t realise that i can handle my needs in other ways, it is him that is totally restricted.

“i don’t need your help to cum baby. cute of you to assume i do.” i smirk, kissing his cheek lazily before rolling out of bed, grabbing my panties from the soft carpet, sensing his eyes burning into me from behind. i pay no attention, flashing him a teasing smile as a reminder that i have won, slowly walking into the bathroom to freshen up, his own steps soon following.

“the fuck do you mean you don’t need my help? i can still help you cum, i just can’t fuck you, which don’t get me wrong is the worst part, but nothing says that i can’t touch you. you know i’ll go insane if i can’t even do that.” he already sounds frustrated, a small smile tugging along my lips at the realisation that he really won’t last two seconds, his desperation embarrassingly clear despite the challenge not even starting yet.

“we’ll see. you just focus on getting yourself through this dumb challenge of yours baby.” i chuckle, that same knowing grin on my face once i palm him through his boxers, his mouth falling open at the sensation. though it doesn’t last long, my hand pulling away firmly to adjust the straps of my bra as i put it back on, leaving tom shocked as i walk away, the realisation that i don’t intend to make this easy for him soon becoming real.

and i stick to my plans - set on making this the most painful month of his life, certain that he will never consider doing this challenge again.

if only he knew what he was getting himself into.

“baby?” my voice sounds throughout the quiet house, loud enough for tom to pick up on it from downstairs. i smile to myself, turning to the mirror and adjusting the strap of the bra that i had bought earlier on, whilst tom had been at practice. the black lace - a colour which tom had never been able to control himself when ever i wore it - tightly cupped my breasts, pushing them upward and highlighting my cleavage in the most tempting way possible. small silver jewels line the lace of my thongs, matching perfectly with my upper half, leaving little to the imagination - though far too much that tom wouldn’t be able to touch, a task which would seem impossible the second he laid his eyes on mine.

“yeah?”

“can you come here for a second?” my question is nothing short of innocent, calm with a slight hint of mischief, though it is clearly not enough for him to pick up on as he shouts a quick ‘sure’, the rhythmic sound of his feet trudging up the stairs signalling that he is close, and clearly not expecting anything like this. but it has been two days- fourty eight hours of no sex, no touching, not even an implicit complaint of needing anything sexual from tom. he has been strangely okay with not fucking me, a task which any other time, would be next to impossible. and i feel it - i feel the difference in his actions. he is restricted, almost holding back just in case his impulses get the better of him. but right now, his mind has no choice, my own doing the thinking for him as he is walking blindly into my carefully calculated trap.

“is everything okay-” his calm question is soon cut off by the short curses that spill from his lips when his eyes make contact with my body, not bothering to hide the way they rake down my figure, drinking in the prominent cleavage, moving downward to my curves, finally landing on the slightly transparent panties.

“jesus christ schatz you’re gonna fucking kill me.” he mutters, walking toward me and attacking his hands to my waist, the pads of his fingers tracing the bare skin of my stomach, one slipping teasingly into my panties. his lips are inches away from my own, about to lean in and seal them in a heated kiss, though i pull away, leaving him dumbfounded.

“you like?” i ask innocently, doing a quick twirl as his eyes quickly glue to my ass, soon looking upward once i face him once again. he is in some sort of trance, mouth hanging open slightly, eyes dark and lustful, though the most noticeable difference is the tent that has formed through his sweatpants, a tinge of satisfaction in my veins at the realisation that my plan has worked. despite this, i keep the naive act up, acting as if i do not notice his change in demeanour. “i bought it from victoria’s secret today. it was on sale, and this was the last one in my size. what do you think?”

“you know what i think.” he states frustratedly, his hands doing the talking as they trail down to my ass, giving the bare flesh a rough squeeze, his lips ghosting over my own. “you’re so sexy schatz, so beautiful.”

his lips attach to my own, an indisputable hunger evident as he kisses me, his free hand latching onto the loose curls that fall to my upper waist, running through them harshly. he groans lowly into my mouth, pressing his hips against my own, silently drawing my attention to the hardness between his thighs.

“look what you’re doing to me baby.” he breathes out, seeming a little angry that i have managed to get to him so easily. though he doesn’t kiss me again, instead he holds back, pressing his forehead against mine whilst his hands continue to rest on my lower back, bringing our bodies closer together. “fuck you’re making this so hard…you know that?”

“you gonna give up already?” my voice is seductive, a torturous mix of sympathetic and lustful, lips moving to rest just below his ear, kissing the skin as his eyes flutter shut, a loud sigh leaving his parted mouth, the grip on my waist simultaneously becoming tighter when my kisses speed up. “if you want me…i’m right here.”

“jesus fucking christ.” he trails off, his eyes now squeezing shut as my lips work against his neck, his mind visibly contemplating on whether he should give in. i am right in front of him, my body a blank canvas, willing to give myself up, to allow myself to be used as he pleases, in exchange for the pathetic remainder of his pride - the two days that he has gone without me going down the drain if he decides to act on the desire that is so clearly eating him up.

his visible indecisiveness isn’t enough for me. i need him to give up, to no longer care about holding back anymore, my hand moving underneath his sweatpants as i run my fingers along his length through his boxers, a loud groan leaving his lips in response. he doesn’t object, instead he seems to lean into my touch, confirmation of his defeat on the tip of his tongue, just about to be uttered, my eyes wide open as i wait for him to finally say it.

a loud buzzing sound resonating from his pocket soon takes his attention, totally destroying the moment as i remove my hand from his pants, his eyes shooting open as he takes his phone, the source of the noise, eyes slightly widening once he sees the who is calling, their name lighting up the screen. bill.

“i have to take this baby. you look beautiful by the way, and, nice try.” he says, shooting me a wink and placing a quick kiss on my lips before adjusting himself, clearing his throat and disappearing out of the room. pretty fucking convenient.

i groan in frustration, collapsing backward onto the bed, completely infuriated at the fact that he was so close to letting go, knowing that right now he could be inside of me if it weren’t for that phone call - quickly realising that this is going to be much harder than i had thought.

my eyes make direct contact with the fresh towel folded neatly on the bathroom counter, scrambling quickly to hide it in the cupboard below as i step out of the shower, hands twisting the tap as the fast flow of water soon stops. i smile to myself when i hear the faint sound of a guitar from our bedroom, signalling that tom is in there, this key to my plan. nine days - nine whole days and he hadn’t cracked, not even close to wanting to fuck, the quick make out sessions and ability to still touch me as he pleases seeming to be sufficient. and whilst his mouth and fingers feel good, i need more, desperate to feel him inside of me, willing to go to any lengths to make him crack.

my fingers rake hurriedly through my freshly washed hair in an attempt to make it look somewhat neater, whilst my body remains completely naked, dripping with water. i take one final look at myself through the fogged up mirror, certain that my plan will work this time, figuring that if it doesn’t, then literally nothing else will.

i open the door that leads directly into our bedroom, acting totally nonchalant and squeezing any last droplets of water from my hair. i walk over to the closet, pretending to scan the shelves for towels, knowing that there aren’t any in here, my entire body on display for him. the gentle strumming of the guitar soon comes to a stop, signalling that i have gotten tom’s attention almost immediately, as i had expected.

“baby have you seen the towels? i can’t find any fresh ones anywhere.” i sigh obliviously, eyes finally landing on his own, only his are fixed on my figure, clearly not paying attention to a word that i am saying. his lips are parted, eyes shifting downward as they slowly take in each inch of skin, nothing at all left to his imagination which, despite his silence, clearly offers him no thoughts deemed holy.

“hm?” he mutters, moving his guitar from where it had been resting in his lap and setting it beside him on the bed. he gets up quickly, walking toward me, the awestruck expression plastered on his face now replaced with one unable to be mistaken for anything else besides pure lust. and when his hands find my waist, running up and down it softly, tongue dipping in and out of his mouth to play with the piercing there whilst his lips are curved into a smirk, i know that i have him right where i want him.

“i said do you know where the towels are. i can’t find any and i need to get dry.” his eyes look everywhere but my face, the only thing i get in response being a subtle nod. instead, his hands move upward, cupping my breasts, whilst his head finally tilts, eyes tearing away from where his hands now roam, lips nearing closer and closer, until they roughly collide with my own.

and i waste no time kissing back, silently thanking his almost non-existent willpower, channelling my pent up sexual frustration into the kiss as my lips mould with his, sighing loudly when his teeth sink into the plush of my bottom lip. he presses himself against me, the tent in his jeans more obvious than ever, one that he won’t be able to ignore as easily as he had done last time - one that i know he has to fix, meaning that this time, he won’t leave me totally desperate. his tongue slips into my mouth when i moan slightly, the kiss more messier than before, totally unrecognisable to the soft ones we had shared up until this moment, because this time, they show that he wants this just as badly as i do.

“jump.” he mutters almost inaudibly against my lips, soon reconnecting them once he breathes in shakily, his hands grabbing the flesh under my thighs once i hoist myself upward, wrapping them around his waist. he guides us toward the bed, using the steady hold he has on my hips to grind me against his, the sensation making it harder for him to kiss back, soon reminding me that this is the first sexual contact he has had in over a week. my back collides harshly with the soft sheets as he climbs above me, reconnecting our lips and slowly spreading my legs apart. he hurriedly scrambles to take his shirt off, throwing the material carelessly across the room, revealing his bare torso.

my hands run down the skin, trailing the muscle of his abs, watching how his eyes fall shut as i move lower and lower, stopping just above the waistband of his jeans. his eyes open when i hesitate, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. he quickly places his hand on top of mine, now guiding my movements as he forces my fingers to slip below the denim, moving below the cotton of his boxers.

“what about your challenge?” i ask, just before my fingers make contact with his dick, eyes widening when he groans in frustration, rolling his eyes at my question.

“fuck the challenge.” he mumbles, forcing my hand to wrap around his dick, his head falling backward the second that the pads of my fingers trace his length, soon running up and down at a slow pace.

“oh jesus christ.” he whispers, eyes half-lidded as he fights to keep them open, desperate to watch my movements, no matter how lethargic they are. because though i have gotten what i wanted, managing to divert his attention from the ridiculous challenge onto me, i want him to be in control, opposed to me doing all the work. and somehow, he seems to read my mind, removing my hand from underneath his pants despite the unmistakable satisfaction etched upon his face. his movements are fast as he removes his jeans, boxers soon following in a messy heap of clothing on the floor.

being naked already works in my favour, allowing tom to line his tip at my entrance, hand pumping his dick lazily a few times before slowly sliding in. as he does so, the tip slips in and out of my folds ever so slightly as i whine in frustration, the stimulation not enough as it reminds me of everything that i have within arms reach, tom holding back only agitating me even more. he picks up on my impatience, my anger buying him time to savour this moment, to tease me just a little more, having me under his mercy just as i had him last time i had gotten close to making him surrender. and i am not willing to have him ripped away again, to be taunted beyond belief, instead willing to beg for him.

“stop playing around and just fuck me.” i sigh through pathetic moans, hands reaching to his neck, pulling it downward so our foreheads our inches apart. and surprisingly, he puts me out of my misery, slowly sliding into me in one smooth snap of his hips. my mouth falls open, a high-pitched moan leaving it when he bottoms out, his tip brushing against my g-spot perfectly, hands raking down his back.

and though my nails dig into the skin with enough force to draw blood, he uses the pain to build up the speed of his thrusts, teeth gritting together as he winces lowly, somewhat used to the feeling, knowing that his pace warranted the strength of my fingers dragging down his back. despite the stinging pain, he maintains a soft smirk, knowing that the soft red marks are nothing more than evidence of the pleasure that only he can provide me with. desperate to feel him just a little closer, my legs hook around his waist, drawing him even deeper inside me, so deep that i swear i can feel him in my stomach.

“you knew what you were doing.” he breathes out between soft groans, so quiet they are almost inaudible. “knew that i’d give in, didn’t you?”

whilst he can speak somewhat coherently, i had lost that ability the second his dick had entered me, any sound that i make an embarrassing mix of moans and whines - nowhere near a properly understandable sentence. though tom wants more, using one hand to grab hold of my cheeks firmly, though not enough to hurt me, forcing my eyes to make contact with his own, prompting me to answer his question.

“mhm…” i manage to mumble, eyes rolling to the back of my head when his tip repeatedly hits the soft spot inside of me, soft curses now pouring from tom’s lips as i clench around him, knowing the reaction that such movements usually encourage out of him, recognising that this time is no different.

“fuck- it’s worth it though schatz. you feel so good, taking me so well.” his words of encouragement are all i need to attach my lips to his neck, placing messy, open-mouthed kisses to the soft skin, noticing the way his lips part, quiet and almost restricted moans escaping them. it isn’t enough for me, feeling somewhat frustrated that he holds back, wanting nothing more for him to cry out in pleasure as i already am, craving for him to mirror my own ecstasy.

“i wanna hear you…” i whine quietly, clenching around him as he curses once again before mumbling a low ‘okay baby’, his lips falling open as rough moans now sound from the back of his throat, getting louder when he drills into me at a certain angle, far deeper than he has ever been before.

and when that familiar knot begins to build within my stomach, i don’t need to ask tom if he is close to, his dick beginning to twitch faintly inside of me. his teeth sink into his bottom lip, thrusts becoming slow and deep, no longer rough and fast as they had been moments ago. now i can really feel him, every inch of his dick slowly pushing inside of me, stopping for a second when he bottoms out, soft grunts leaving his lips as quiet moans escape my own, feeling him closer than i ever had before.

“gonna cum baby. do it with me, yeah?” he whispers, head dipping downward to place messy kisses across my face, starting at my forehead, trailing downward to my nose and cheeks, before ending at my lips, capturing them in yet another rough kiss, nothing like the slow and deep movements of his hips as he continues to push in and out of me.

when his lips falter, no longer able to kiss me with such force as they had when they had initiated it, i know that he can’t hold on anymore, his head tilting backward as a loud moan escapes his mouth, followed with hot spurts of cum that coat my walls, his hips rocking back and forth tiredly as he releases. the pressure of his own climax soon triggers my own, his name spilling from my lips over and over again, high off the feeling of his dick as it continues to thrust into me, fucking his seed deeper, riding both our highs.

his hold on my waist becomes softer, slight red marks in place of his fingers, our breathing loud and heavy as it envelops the room, thick with the smell of sex. he pulls out of me, sighing loudly as a mix of our juices seeps out, his hands lazily grabbing some tissue to wipe it away.

tiredly, he moves upward, his body collapsing on top of me, lips pecking my own a few times. my own arms wrap around his back, fingers tracing the skin softly in an attempt to ease the stinging pain my nails had left whilst his own hands run along my trembling frame, lips pressing sweet kisses into my hair.

“you okay?” his voice is hoarse as he speaks, attempting to appear as unbothered as possible, though i can tell he is totally worn out. i manage a quick ‘mhm’, lips turning to kiss just above his shoulder, noticing him smile weakly against me.

“are you upset about the challenge?” i ask tiredly, eyes on the verge of closing, ears barely picking up the soft chuckle that leaves his lips, his fingers squeezing the flesh of my hips as he kisses me softly, shaking his head.

“fuck the challenge.” he stretches out, bringing my body closer to his. “sex is just too good, plus it’s hard when my girlfriend walks around naked in front of me, what kind of guy ignores that shit? i don’t care if someone paid me, i’d never pass up on a chance like that. especially when you look this good.”

“you’re so romantic.” i scoff sarcastically, shaking my head at his impulsiveness, feeling him smile against me, his head lifting up to look into my eyes.

“what, i’m not allowed to say you’re beautiful?” he smirks, hands trailing my body once again, eyes visibly lighting up with that same look i had seen just minutes ago, knowing exactly what it means. “i mean, i could show you that you’re beautiful instead, if you want me to…”

though the grin on his face says otherwise, i know that he is serious about it, his actions proving so if my instincts weren’t enough. his hands trail upward knowingly, fingers running across my breasts as his lips makes content with them, placing harsh kisses onto the skin, his teeth digging in every few seconds. my head falls backward, back arching to allow him better access, silently accepting his proposal. he stops momentarily, looking into my eyes.

“we’ve got nine days of lost time to make up for schatz. i think now seems like a good time to start, don’t you?”

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[februarybluues]

enemies with benefits. || 1. - p.u.n.k boy!

warnings: swearing, fighting, you and hobie hating each other, reader gets slightly injured but nothing that bad, horrible british (i'm very sorry🙏 )

part 2 - wounded.

You were bold, abrasive, honest, and never afraid to fight for what was right. He was the exact same - if not even worse. Logically, it was obvious for people to assume you’d be best friends. But, they couldn’t be further from the truth.

You heard a lot about Hobie. Mostly from Gwen and Miles rambling about ‘how awesome he was’. They told you about his cool style, his badass attitude, how caring he was, and pretty much everything there was to know about him. When they said he was a great guy, you almost believed them. But, your opinion quickly changed when you met him for the first time.

Miguel had called you to see him immediately, without giving any context as to why. Logically, you were confused and quite frankly, a bit scared. Did something happen? Were you in trouble? Needless to say you rushed over to him as quickly as you could.

“Y/n. New mission for you. There’s an anomaly that’s broken free and it’s jumping from dimension to dimension, wreaking havoc. I need you to stop it from corrupting anything, alright?” his face remained stoic as he spoke in a low, orderly tone. You smiled. It was no secret to anyone that you loved to fight. Whether it be fighting a villain as spider-woman, or fighting a sexist scum as y/n. You loved to make the world a better place. And you looked sick as you did it.

“Got it. Just send me the location and consider it done.” you responded, eagerly. Miguel cleared his throat, which caught your attention. “No, no, no. This is way more dangerous than your usual anomaly. You can’t do this on your own. Which is why I've assigned Hobart to be your partner.” You looked at him, confused. “Hobart? Who the fuck is that?” Without missing a beat, you heard the sound of rustling behind you. “M’right here.” you turned around, only to be met with a cocky smile, and a thick english accent. You quickly examined him. He was your stereotypical punk; tight jeans, combat boots, a sleeveless vest that was littered in pins and patches, and a guitar on his back. Everything about him screamed asshole. It was then that you realised he matched Gwen and Miles’ descriptions. There was no denying it, you were looking at the infamous Hobie Brown.

“You must be Hobie.” you held your hand out to him for a handshake. But he pressed a kiss to it instead. “The one and only.” he winked at you. You pulled your hand back, rolling your eyes at him. ‘Great.’ you thought to yourself. ‘He’s one of those people. A selfish, self-absorbed, cocky flirt.’ your head already jumped to conclusions, despite not knowing him for more than five minutes. You hadn’t realised you had been staring at him until he spoke up again. “Take a picture. It’ll last longer.” you scoffed at him, turning to talk to Miguel instead. “You can’t be serious. You know I work alone. I always work alone. I can handle this by myself.” Miguel shook his head, not wanting to hear your complaints. “I know. But, this is a job for two people. And, I firmly believe that you guys will work together greatly.” As much as you wanted to fight alone, you knew Miguel was right. You sighed. Hobie opened his mouth to speak again, but you cut him off before he could spew another snarky comment. “If you-” “Shut up with your elitist bullshit. All of you punks are the same.” You turned around yet again to look at his face. He immediately perked up with slight anger. You were testing his patience. “Aye. I’m no elitist! I don’t believe in’at crap! I don’t believe in labels!” your smile got smaller, but it stayed there nonetheless. “Yeah well I don't believe that you’re as cool as they say you are. Bet you’re just all bark and no bite.” his lips quirked up into a slight smile, completely disregarding what you had to say. “They? Who’s they?” his eyebrow raised, which made you notice his abundance of piercings. You'd be lying if you said they didn’t suit him. “Miles and Gwen.” you answered, the tone of your voice was slightly annoyed. He lit up slightly at the mention of their names. “You know Gwendy ‘n Miles?” “So what if I do?” His eyes grew wide, you could see the cogs whirring in his head as he put the pieces together. “Wait. A’you tha’ badass that kicked the teeth in o’that group o’knobheads?” Ah. So, gwen and Miles must’ve talked about you as much as they did him. Fucking hell his accent was almost incomprehensible. “So what if I am?” you crossed your arms at him. He scoffed. “And here I thought you’d be nicer.” you rolled your eyes and focused your attention on the portal you opened up. “Come on, we can finish this up later - after we’ve beat this bastard.” You spoke, pointing inside the portal. For a split second you both shared a smile. “Right behind you, mate.” And with that, you walked into the portal, mockingly mumbling his accent as you did so. “mate.” 

You landed in the alternate earth with grace, quickly scanning the area to make sure no one was there. And then Hobie arrived. His chest bashed against your back, which caused you to almost fall forward. “Whoops. Sorry about tha’'.' he smiled, but he wasn’t sorry. His voice was laced with a teasing venom. You turned your head to look at him. “You did that on purpose, prick.” you scowled at him, and his smirk got wider; cockier. “Yeah, I did.” he admitted. You couldn’t believe him. “We don’t have time for this. Let’s just get this over with.” you put your mask on and looked around for the anomaly, swinging your webs from building to building as you flew around. It was then that you spotted it; a big, scaly monster. Its skin resembled that of tar; sticky and black. Accompanied by a menacingly sharp smile, its fangs were almost as big as you were. Your eyes widened with subtle fear as you watched it engulf its surroundings. You signalled Hobie over to you, careful as to not make any noise. He followed, his once-teasing demeanour gone without a trace. He was much more focused on taking down the anomaly now. “Fuckin’ ‘ell. That’s a big one.” he stated, looking at it before attempting to jump at it. but, you grabbed onto his arm to prevent him from doing so. “Are you crazy?” you whispered. “You can’t just spring into battle without a plan!” he groaned impatiently, you quickly shushed him as to not catch the creature’s attention. “Right then, what’s your plan then, missy?” he crouched down next to you, looking down at the enemy from the rooftop. The spikes on his mask shimmered from the sunlight, almost distracting you. Almost.

You snapped back to reality and shared your plan with him. He listened intently to everything you had to say - for debatably the first time ever. He had no snarky comments to share. You almost thanked him for his maturity. Once you finished telling him, it was time to initiate the plan. “Lead the way.” he said as he watched you walk towards the edge of the rooftop. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for what was to come. Without any delay, you jumped forward, latching your web onto the nearest building and springing into the creature's field of view. Once it saw you, it instantly began to attack; sending a few of its tentacle-like arms(?) in your direction. You dodged each of its attacks, cutting off one of the arms in the process with a powerful kick. Hobie remained on the rooftop, waiting for your signal. He watched as you fought. Soon finding himself lost in his thoughts. You fought the creature with expertise, swiftly gliding through the air as you dodged each attack flawlessly. He was in awe. He had underestimated how strong you were. But, there’s no way he was admiring you, right? He was just caught off-guard. Definitely. Which meant, it was his turn to show off. He wanted to impress you. And soon enough, his time came. You gave him the signal and he quickly sprung into action. He pulled the guitar from his back, holding it from the neck as if it were a weapon. 

The two of you worked together to take the anomaly down. Although you hated to admit it, you made a great team. Miguel knew that, which is why he put you together in the first place. But, before you managed to successfully beat the monster, you got distracted. You watched as hobie ripped tentacle after tentacle from it and didn’t notice the one that was flying right at you. It lashed you right in the chest, making you grunt in pain as you fell backwards. Hobie must’ve seen this happening because before you made contact with the rough concrete, a familiar web enveloped you, lifting you back up. “Careful, love. Wouldn’t want ya ruinin’ that pretty face o’yours.” You ripped his web off of you, and smiled through your mask. - grateful that he couldn’t see it. “I didn’t need your help!” you yelled at him, jumping back into battle. He laughed, which annoyed you even more. Successfully fuelling the energy you needed to knock the anomaly out. You delivered the final blow; kicking it right in its eye, which was apparently its weak spot. “Whew..” you let out, landing on your feet as you looked at it. Hobie landed next to you, placing his arm on your shoulder. “Nice one,” he said. He sounded sincere. You nodded before going back to work, informing Miguel that you had successfully taken it down. Hobie’s hand stayed on your shoulder, tightly but not enough to hurt. 

Although he was an asshole, he was starting to grow on you.

“How ‘bout we get some dinner - on you, aye? it’s the least you could do considering i saved y’life.”

“Get a grip, Hobie.”

Nevermind.

[applestorms]

ok, well. if last time i talked about parallels between near & light, i guess it’s only fair that this time i talk about parallels between mello & misa. yap central on this blog lately.

the main thing that stands out the most about mello & misa, and the reason why i will forever Defend them and their place in the story, is that in my mind they both function in a similar way on a narrative level: namely, both of them are incredibly active wild-card characters that keep the action going and the story moving forward when the other main characters like light, L, & near start getting too passive.

notably, while i often see this trait praised in mello, usually in the context of a comparative criticism of near for his overly-abundant passivity, i have also seen it used as a criticism of misa's character, that she breaks up the status quo of DN too significantly and thereby makes the story feel less realistic. this last point in particular is an odd argument to make imo, as if anything misa's presence only increases the realism of DN by adding some extra luck/random chance into the story in a way that is ultimately still character-motivated and thus easier for the audience to go along with-- something DN in general is very good at, often introducing elements through pure chance but keeping them grounded in characters enough that you almost don't even notice.

take light meeting naomi misora, for example: the only reason he runs across her at all is because he offers to run an errand for his mom on a bored laundry day, literally stumbling across her right at the exact moment she is divulging important insights she is literally the only person capable of making about kira. yet this moment does not stand out as particularly aggravating or out of place in the story, as ultimately the only reason why light is able to get out of that situation is his own quick thinking and ability to calm himself while under immense pressure, squeezing his way out of a potentially run-ending situation he didn't even know existed moments prior.

(not a fan of that big joel video, if you couldn't tell. lmao.)

point is, mello & misa both fulfill about the same narrative function in the story by being so aggressive in their actions, catching the others off guard even if their plans aren't as well thought out or careful as they could otherwise be. they're both incredibly passionate, dedicated characters as well, tough enough to take the hit when it inevitably comes, and in my opinion neither of them are nearly as stupid as the other MCs like to make them out to be. to some degree, i think both of them are aware of the fact that they can't win at the Mind Game Cold War Bullshit the others are inclined to get involved in, so they instead choose to carve out their own place in the story through sheer perseverance alone.

which, speaking of passion: one of the most interesting parallels i think you can make between mello & misa is the ways in which they idolize their respective heroes, misa's obviously being light while mello's is L. allow me to elaborate.

as this post points out, DN has some very interesting use of its religious imagery & theming, and in particular its use of christian/catholic gothic imagery in its story and especially its art. however, as op notes, a lot of this is quite superficial, ascribing to an aesthetic of "kitschy Catholicism," that was characteristic of a lot of early 2000s japanese goth style. yet, while i admit that a more serious consideration of religious elements in the art & story could add some interesting flavor to the story, i also think that, regardless of intention, the superficiality of DN's religious elements works really well in the context of this particular story. as i stated in my tags on that post: light is a superficial god. he is a fake, a scam, some idiot human that stumbled across the powers of a real shinigami and got his head up his ass about it. and a lot of the arcs of other characters in DN is about their reaction to light's claims-- whether they choose to follow him (e.g. misa, mikami), follow somebody else (e.g. mello), or follow nobody at all (e.g. near, also kinda soichiro?), and the implications that has for their lives and personalities.

this is all to say that while you can, on a surface level, connect misa & mello pretty easily as the two aggressive, fashionable blondes of the series, i also think that these somewhat superficial traits betray a greater connection between the two of them. if we understand the christian/catholic elements of misa & mello's fashion as a demonstration of their connection to not just a higher power but a lie, a superficial deity simply reflecting the sunlight of powers greater than himself, then i think we have great insight into another key element of both their characters.

do not forget: in the world of DN, heaven & hell do not exist. at least in the context of death itself, the realm & lore of the shinigami reign supreme, a point which the DN musical makes even more overt: "Isn't it a laugh? / Isn't it a shame? / Thinking there is someone in heaven to blame?" and "Going through the motions / as if there will be a reward / Oh, while we stay eternally bored!" (BEST SONGGG.) everyone is destined for the same fate of MU, the same void of nothingness awaits all. no reward, no punishment, no greater deity looking down upon us than the bored, slothful shinigami, lazing about in their realm and picking people off only when necessary (for the most part).

misa & mello are thus dedicating themselves to false idols, and we can see the negative effects this has on them in almost every facet of their character-- particularly for mello, who is perhaps more self-aware and has more of a mixed emotional outlook on his idol, but maybe even to a more extreme degree for misa. i keep going back to this idea of equating boredom with depression in DN, but where light/L/near are all "bored" in a very quiet, passive, stewing-in-bed late at night kinda way, misa & mello are characteristically a lot more aggressive and intense about it-- while neither of them are super overtly suicidal, necessarily, their actions still betray a distinct lack of care for their own safety or lives, expressing the same thematic sentiment as the others. even if they still don't straight up say it, through their actions they're a lot louder about not liking themselves, and seem to take the problems they see in the world more personally, shouldering the blame as a failure within themselves instead of projecting it outward like the others: e.g. light taking his unhappiness at the emptiness of his life at the start of the story & placing the blame on the world for "going to shit" & humanity's moral failings, versus misa being willing to literally & figuratively give up her life for KIRA the second he demands it, whether that be in the form of shinigami eyes or killing her own friends w/o second thought-- all because he was the only thing to bring justice to her own parents' deaths, an almost undoubtedly traumatizing/horrible experience for her considering how much value she places on KIRA/light afterwards.

to clarify, this is not to say that all of these characters are actually and literally depressed and/or suicidal, though you could certainly make that argument for some/all of them-- this is just one way that i think you could interpret their roles in the plot, and their thematic attachment to the story. even if DN isn't all that interested in considering the True Moral Answer to ethics/the justice system/human society/etc, it definitely takes at least some interest in the emotional viewpoints of characters in relation to those concepts, so i think this is a fair enough approach to take. or to say this another way, it's less about justifying the claim that "the world is shit," and more about trying to understand the emotional motivation & experience of feeling like the world is shit, if that makes sense.

that being said...speaking more on the whole "not liking themselves," thing: even if she doesn't say it aloud often, if ever, i think that misa is deeply aware of the fact that she was not supposed to live this long, that her existence at all is a pure stroke of luck that let her live on past her destined date. she dedicates herself to light so fully, not even necessarily expecting reciprocation (though she at least reserves herself the possibility of such), because being a disciple to her god at least gives her life some kind of purpose. similarly, i think mello is also aware of just how out of reach the one thing he wants is, how his desperation in and of itself is ironically the one thing keeping him from surpassing near and truly being #1. it's important to note that pre-time skip misa & post-skip mello are almost exactly the same age, around 20 years old at the time of their main arcs. they're immature, and in the case of mello especially, are lashing out at the world in whatever way they can because they know they don't quite fit into it in the way that they want to or should. regardless of the intent behind it, mello & misa both still make the conscious decision to kill with the DN-- perhaps in a way that still keeps their humanity, at least following near's logic, but it's a decision to end a human life either way.

anyways, going back to my previous point, this "worshiping of false idols," idea has some interesting implications-- for misa & mello yes, but also for L and the ways in which he contrasts again light, as under this logic mello's treatment kind of inherently gives L a similar status as a sort of false god/idol. which-- actually makes a lot of sense? or at the very least, viewing wammy's house as a kind of mystery cult a la the eleusinian mysteries is a neat approach to take. L & light's mutual alienation from humanity fits them both filling a false god status, anyway. also there's another thread of analysis you could follow here where near is instead fit into the role of the person mello is fixated on which AAAAAAAAA has interesting implications but jesus fucking christ, this post is long. some thoughts for another time, i suppose.

[chvoswxtch]

court, you’re the only person i can think of that would understand this on the level i do…

jessica and elektra fighting for readers attention and just end up both having their way with r after realizing they can (competitively) share

that’s all..🩵

I don't think i've ever written something so fast

I got carried away (as usual) but I have a feeling you're not going to mind at all

happy valentine's day from me to you <3

warning: swearing, explicit sexual content (minors please dni), word count 2.3k

sharing.

At first it was confusing. You couldn’t comprehend why two of the hottest women in New York, two of the hottest women you had ever seen period, seemed to want to spend so much time around you. Jessica Jones, who never wanted unsolicited advice or help from anyone, seemed to want your opinion on every case she was working on lately, claiming she needed an extra pair of eyes. And Elektra Natchios, who could have anyone out of the countless people throwing themselves at her feet, was constantly needing a last minute plus one to lavish galas and decadent events, and you were the company she chose.

You didn’t think much of it. Alias Investigations was only composed of three people, and Jess had been taking on a lot more clients lately. She knew you had a strong interest in investigative work, and she enjoyed your fresh perspective. Ellie told you the tenuous small talk was easier with you at her side, and she had said the events would be a great networking opportunity for you to make influential connections in your chosen career path; to which she hadn’t been wrong. 

On the surface, it seemed like they were both just being really good, yet unexpected, friends.

However, when Jessica and Elektra crossed paths in your company, you noticed something strange.

In the rare instances the three of you happened to all be in a room together, there was an undeniable tension between Jess and Ellie. Initially you thought it was just because the two were so starkly different. Jessica was a brute force to be reckoned with that had an affinity for whiskey and zero tolerance for petty bullshit. Elektra was a charming manipulator that had more money than God and could cut people down with words sharper than the blade strapped to her inner thigh. You thought it was the graphic dissonance in their personalities that made them appear to despise one another until Karen cracked the code with a knowing smirk on her pink lips.

“They’re both into you.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Oh come on, babe. You’re not that dense. Think about it.”

Ever since Karen planted that seed, it had been uncontrollably growing inside your head like wild ivy, each sprout blooming with new buds of realization. Everything began to shift into focus. Elektra sending outfits to your apartment that were elegant, but left little to the imagination, and were styles that she had specifically chosen for you. Jessica coming by your place late at night, the case she feigned needing help with long forgotten on your coffee table with each refill of your glass. Elektra looping her arm through yours every time the two of you went somewhere, like a possessive show of ownership. Jessica placing her hand on your lower back to usher you inside every time she opened the door for you, shooting anyone that dared get too close to you a menacing glare.

The hunger in both of their eyes every time they looked at you.

You couldn’t believe you had been so blind. The clues had been right there in front of your face the entire time, but you hadn’t even been aware there was a mystery to solve. It never once crossed your mind that the two women you fantasized about late at night when tides of loneliness had your hand slipping between your thighs, pretending it was one of theirs instead, that they could actually be craving the exact same thing.

Once it all clicked in your brain, you didn’t know how to act around them anymore, and you weren’t sure how to bring it up. Now when Elektra treated you to lunch and reached across the table to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, you didn’t see it as a friendly gesture anymore. That was something a lover would do. And when Jessica let herself into your office, setting an iced coffee on your desk from your favorite cafe while plopping down in the chair across from your desk to complain about her latest case, you saw it for what it really was. An excuse to see you.

Knowing they were both into you had your mind unraveling strand by strand. How could you just pick one of them? Did you have to? Would they be upset if you didn’t pick?

After overthinking it to the brink of insanity and guzzling an entire bottle of wine for liquid courage, you impulsively invited them both over to your apartment. Despite the late hour, both of them responded immediately and were at your front door in record time. 

To say they were annoyed to see each other was an understatement, but before they could get stuck in yet another passive aggressive argument, you cleared your throat to get their attention.

“I want you both.”

A crease of puzzlement furrowed in the middle of Jessica’s forehead while Elektra raised one of her perfectly arched brows in an expression of amusement complimented by a ruby painted smirk. 

“Sharing has never been my forte, darling.”

Swallowing thickly, you straightened your shoulders as you appeared to make yourself seem a little taller while crossing your arms across your chest. 

“Sharing is what you do when you care about someone, Ellie.”

Elektra let out a dark laugh, tilting her head to the side slightly as her deep brown eyes narrowed in your direction. Her ruby painted lips parted when she bared her teeth in a wolfish grin, and it sent an icy chill down your spine.

“Look how cute she is, pretending she’s in charge. Over indulged a bit and feeling brave, are we?”

Elektra motioned with her head towards the empty wine bottle lingering on the coffee table, and your lips parted as you went to speak, but nothing came out. You hadn’t really planned this out well. In your perfect scenario, the two of them would simply give in and agree to your demands, but you seemed to forget that you were dealing with two of the most headstrong people you had ever met. 

When Jessica seemed to grasp what was going on and what you were implying, her full lips tugged upwards into a devilish smirk, and she slowly peeled her leather jacket off her shoulders and down her arms.

“I think she is. You gotta admire her attempt. It’s kinda cute.”

Elektra crossed her arms over her chest, her dark eyes roaming over your entire figure, the ravenous hunger in them further amplified by the glow of the moonlight filtering in through the curtains.

“What should we do with her?”

“Why don’t we give her what she wants?”

Elektra turned her head to look at Jessica with an expression of incredulity.

“You think she’s earned it?”

Jessica took a step closer towards Elektra, staring down into her eyes intently, their noses barely an inch apart. Elektra had such a large personality and a commanding presence that you forgot she wasn’t the tallest person in the room.

“I don’t give a shit what she’s earned. I know what I want, and I’m pretty fucking tired of waiting. So, do you really wanna hold off just to teach a lesson? Or do you wanna help me fuck her senseless?”

Nothing could have prepared you for those words slipping out of Jessica’s mouth, or the way they knocked the very breath out of your lungs and made you nearly come on the spot. The way they were speaking about you like you weren’t even there should have made your blood boil, but it only aroused you further. And when Elektra turned her head to look at you with a wicked grin, you knew you were done for.

“Alright then. I suppose I could make an exception.”

And that’s how you found yourself tied up to your own bed, helplessly watching as Jessica and Elektra ate your pussy at the same time. It didn’t take much of Jessica’s strength to keep your hips pinned down to the mattress, and no matter how hard you tried to move, she wouldn’t let you budge. It was a struggle to keep your eyes open from the intensity of the pleasure, but you didn’t want to miss a second of the erotic sight in front of you.

Elektra and Jessica were both naked and nestled between your thighs, making them spread as far apart as they could go. They took turns gliding their warm tongues along your soaked cunt, lapping at your clit and suckling it between their lips. Each of them had a finger slipped inside your tight heat, pumping steadily at a synchronized rhythm that had your lower stomach contracting. When they turned their heads to lick you at the same time, your clit got caught in the tandem of their tongues tangling together, and it had you arching your back off the mattress.

“Fuck…”

A soft whimper escaped your lips when Elektra and Jessica turned their attention to each other for a moment, and you watched as they shared a sensual kiss, tasting your arousal on one another’s lips, all while fingering you still. It was the hottest sight you had ever seen, and it had you on the edge of combusting. It was absolute torture not being able to touch them or taste them in return.

“Jess…Ellie…please.”

“What is it, pretty girl?”

Jessica’s tongue darted out to swipe along her bottom lip as she looked up at you through half mooned eyes, and Elektra grinned while she leaned in to teasingly brush her lips over your clit.

“I think our pretty girl wants to come.”

Elektra wrapped her soft warm lips around your clit, flicking her tongue over it repeatedly, and Jessica took the opportunity to reach behind her to slip her other hand between Elektra’s thighs, slipping two of her fingers into her wet pussy. Elektra let out a savory moan that rippled against your clit in a way that had your thighs trembling.

“F-fuck-”

“Is that it, baby girl? You wanna come?”

“Yes…yesyesyes, please.”

Jessica sank her teeth down into her bottom lip, glancing between the look of sheer desperation on your face while you begged, watching the way Elektra devoured your soaked cunt, and then admiring the way her fingers were slowly fucking you and Elektra simultaneously.

“I bet I could make you both come at the same time. What do you think Ellie, you wanna come too?”

Elektra retracted her lips from your clit only for a moment, looking up at Jessica in pure insatiable desire as breathless pants escape her parted lips.

“I like a challenge.”

Jessica’s full lips parted into a huge grin as she leaned in closer, nipping at Elektra’s bottom lip roughly. 

“Then keep going.”

Jessica was fucking you with her fingers at a pace that was almost inhuman, curling them upwards to rub against that divine spot inside of you that made you forget your own name. Elektra was sucking on your clit ardently, and her own moans of pleasure were frantically vibrating against your sensitive nub from the way Jessica was fucking her with her fingers. Your jaw was completely slack, nothing coming out besides incoherent noises. You had never felt anything like this before, and the intensity was nearly overwhelming. The obscene sounds of Elektra slurping on your pussy, her salacious moans, the lewd squelching of Jessica’s fingers fucking both yours and Elektra’s cunts, and Jessica’s filthy praises were only pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Is this what you wanted, baby? To be fucked like a good little slut?”

“Jess-”

“Oh I wasn’t just talking to you, pretty girl. I was talking to her too. Seems like all you both needed was a little attitude adjustment.”

Jessica slipped her fingers out of Elektra’s pussy only for a second to smack her palm roughly against her ass, leaving a perfectly reddened outline of her handprint on Elektra’s skin. Elektra let out a sharp moan in response, fisting the sheets tightly in her hands when Jessica suddenly slipped her fingers back into her eager cunt without warning. Jessica let out a dry laugh when Elektra raised her ass higher in the air.

“I knew you’d like that you spoiled brat.”

You weren’t sure if it was Jessica’s fingers or Elektra’s mouth that sent you catapulting into the void of ecstasy, but your throat was raw from the scream that ripped through it as you began to convulse uncontrollably. Your entire body trembled violently from the aftershocks of such a potent explosion of gratification. The restraints around your wrists had rubbed your delicate skin sore and tender from how hard you had been tugging at them, but that pain didn’t even register in your brain at the moment. All you could focus on was how weightless you felt, as if you were floating amongst the clouds with a blissful fucked out smile on your lips.

“I think we broke her.”

Elektra’s velvet cadence was distant in your ears, but it still filled your body with a sense of warmth along with the familiar sound of Jessica’s dry laugh.

“I think she just needs a minute. Clearly her sex life has been a goddamn joke.”

“Well, while she recovers, I’d like to see just how unbreakable you are.”

“Do your worst.”

“Oh, I intend to.”

A tingle spread throughout your lower half when you felt the two of them shifting on the mattress, and you forced yourself back into a conscious state, wanting to witness the spectacle you were about to have a front row seat to.

You could definitely get used to sharing.

tags: @ninejloveb0t @firesunflamed @kmc1989 @storiesofsvu @geeksareunique

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Second Best 2

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

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

Characters: Lee Bodecker

Summary: The newly-single sheriff sets his eye on an unexpected match.

Part of the Backwoods AU

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

You stomp up the porch steps as your dad rocks in the wooden chair, in his usual meditation over a can of Molson. He grunts in his way, acknowledging your return and you shoot back a sharp, ‘hey’. Inside, your mother crochets in front of a soap opera, not looking over as she clacks her needles together. You know better than to try to start a conversation during her programs.

You go to your room behind the stairs and keep yourself from slamming the door. Greta always knows how to ruin your day. She might be right about being your only friend but maybe it’s time to make new ones. This town isn’t just the two of you.

You flop onto your bed sideways and stare at the ceiling. You can’t let her spoil the whole day off. That’s bullshit. What’s the point of spending hours caring about her nonsense. Tomorrow, you’ll be back to cleaning up hotel rooms and wishing you could just lay in bed and do nothing.

You sit up and shake off your agitation. A thorn sticks in your side but you try to ignore it. You could work on your embroidery. The Summer Solstice is coming and you might just talk yourself into sharing a booth with Hilde again. You sold quite a few patches last year.

You pull out your sewing kit and the box of half-finished patches and make a nest on the floor. You turn on the old CD player and listen to the same disc you always do. You set to work as you try to tune out the world.

You poke through the patch and jab into your fingertip. Shit. You growl as you wish you could stab Greta in her stupid little eyes. She’s such a bitch. You hope she has fun with that pig. She’ll be right back at The Horn scavenging for one night stands.

You’re not judging her, you’re judging this place. There really isn’t much to choose from. It’s the exact reason you have a vibrator hidden under your mattress. You’ve seen the men around here and you’ve talked to their girlfriends and wives.

You blow a raspberry and suck on your fingertip. There’s still a hint of vanilla on your skin. You drop your hand and lean back against the dresser.

Something’s gotta give. You’re so fucking bored of this town. There’s nothing to do. Greta just wants to drink and fuck around. If that’s what she enjoys, power to her, but you’re about to glaze over. You want something, anything to change.

🍦

You yawn as you walk up Thunder Lane towards the B&B. Another shift, another dollar. It’s minimum wage but better than nothing. You don’t have the education or the experience to demand more. Besides, the Odinsons aren’t bad employers. Usually you get a free meal or two.

You enter through the front door and greet Darcy as she droops over her coffee. She chirps as she sits up, startled by your sudden appearance. She relaxes as she realises you aren’t a guest or her employer.

You stop by the breakfast bar to grab a cup of your own before you head down to the laundry. You’ll try to catch up on the towels before check-out begins. There aren’t too many of those anyhow. Not yet. Midsommar usually draws in the tourists as a sort of novelty.

You load a washer and set it to spin as you restart a dryer left full from the day before. You give it ten minutes to fluff the towels and start folding. You sip your coffee between towels, drinking it away from the so you don’t stain the pure white.

You load up the cart with fresh towels in preparation for your daily route around the hotel. As you bend to grab some extra wash clothes, you’re started by a deep hum. You stand up straight and turn to face Thor as he looms in the doorway. Gods, he scared the piss out of you. How can a man that big sneak around like a cat?

“I heard there was a broken machine,” he drawls as he leans his elbow on the doorframe.

“Uh, yeah, that one again,” you point to the corner as you add the washcloths to the cart. You feel him watching you still.

“Ah,” he clucks, “and how are you today, lady?”

“Eh, just another day,” you shrug. “You?”

“Hm, as you said it. Another day,” he remarks, “we have a guest.”

“Oh?” You turn the cart around.

“In the Berkano suite,” he explains.

You nod, “right.” You mark the chart pinned to the handle of the cart.

“She is very demanding,” he muses, “from the city.”

“They usually are,” you give a tiny chuckle. You wish he wouldn’t stare at you like that, or that he’d at least move out of the way.

“Not like you village girls, eh?”

“I guess,” you furrow your brow.

“Mm, how’s Greta?” He winks.

“Fine, I don’t know,” you sniff and grab the handle of the cart, rolling it forward.

“My birthday’s coming up. Maybe she’d come?” He suggests.

“I don’t know,” you murmur as you stop, blocked from leaving by his burly form.

“You’re invited too, of course,” he grins and his eyes dip down for a moment, “is that a new apron?”

You have to hold back a scoff. You know better than to mess around with Thor Odinson. It’s more than just the Confucian philosophy of not shitting where you eat, it’s good sense. You’ve heard the stories. Aside from that, he’s a bit above your age range.

“Nope,” you answer flatly, “anyway, I should get started.”

“Well, are you coming? To my party?” He asks.

“I’ll see if I’m free,” you deflect.

“Bring Greta,” he slides out of the way, “and whoever you like. Any pretty girls you know.”

You bow your head to hide your disgust. You don’t think you’ll be feeding anyone to the wolves, especially not yourself. You pass through the door and feel a brush against your hip. You ignore it and roll down the hallway. You wouldn’t even hand over Greta to that beast, for more than the fact that she is excommunicated from your life.

[chrisweetheart]

apocalypse

read part 1 here

pure tooth-rotting fluff, subtle mentions of sex

the popular mean girl is failing in her classes, her teacher forces her to hire a tutor otherwise she wouldn’t make it into her dream college, what happens when she accidentally falls in love with her tutor?

1.1k

“your lips, my lips, apocalypse”

“last class finally,” i muttered to no one in particular, then proceeding to whine slightly when i remembered where i have to go straight after this. the library. my least favourite place on earth, everyone wants to be so different saying they love it, but it’s all bullshit to seem like a ‘smart kind book girl’ when in reality they are usually the spawns of satan. i never pretended to enjoy the library or reading, i would much rather go shopping or party or do something a normal teenage girl would do. the last time i remember reading was in 2nd grade when i read some book about a cat on a mat.

i silently groaned under my breathe when i recalled the reason why i was going in the first place, i’m going to be in my least favourite place, doing my least favourite thing, studying, or being tutored to be exact. great.

although i desperately didn’t want to go, i was curious to see who this mysterious boy was, i had never heard of him until today. was he a cousin to chris and nick? or was it just a coincidence that they had the same last name?

whatever, i didn’t care, i just wanted to get this shit over with and never have to do it again.

i walked slowly, dreading what was about to happen, to the library on the other side of the school.

i took a long deep breathe and forced myself to open the double doors of the building. it was quiet, too quiet almost, it made me uncomfortable. i was used to loud, chaotic places, like parties and clubs. but this was actually peaceful, i didn’t mind the silence filling the enclosed room.

the email stated that i should meet matthew at the back of the library, i huffed and trudged over there.

the only person i could see was a attractive man, i hadn’t ever seen him before so i just assumed he was in a different grade from me, he had brunette, messy, middle-parted hair, blue eyes, glasses that fit his face perfectly, pink plump lips. i had to admit he was a beautiful man.

“excuse me, do you happen to know anyone called matthew sturniolo? i was supposed to be meeting him here for tutoring,” i whispered with a small, sweet smile on my face, trying to gain the boys attention.

he stared up at me, his pupils dilating as he took in my appearance, he returned a grin at me, “yes that’s me.” he stated shyly and my eyes widened.

he was matthew sturniolo? maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“oh really? can i sit down?” i say pointing to the empty chair next to him.

“of course,” he patted the chair and pulled it out for me like a gentleman.

“hey, you don’t happen to be related to nick or chris sturniolo?” i questioned as i rested down on the seat.

“yeah, their my triplets brothers,” he laughed briefly seeming nervous to be so close to me.

“no shit!” i almost shouted, then realising i was in a library. i turned abruptly to look at him, “how come your never with them?” i asked confused.

“we aren’t very alike, i would much prefer to be sat alone reading then hang out with the cool people.” he smiled softly at me before returning to do his homework.

“how come i’ve never seen you around, not even in the hallways or anything?” i said, popping a piece of strawberry gum into my mouth, he watched as i did so.

“i don’t know, i usually go to class 10 minutes early so that’s probably why.” matt observed closely as i blew a bubble.

“ah yes, thats why.” i giggled slightly as i ran my fingers through my silky hair and gazed at him, “should we start the work then?” i said pulling out my textbook from my bag.

“o-oh yes,” he stuttered nervously, blushing, fumbling a pen from his pocket. he began teaching me about algebra and pi and other useless stuff i would never use again in life, although a subtle but noticeable tension lingered between us.

i would never usually go for a nerd like him, but something about the boy made me feel drawn to him, like i wanted to learn more about his personality. he had probably never felt the touch of a woman before, but that only made things more exciting. knowing the fact i could be the first to touch him, make him feel things no one ever has before, it turned me on more than i wanted it to.

after what felt like a lifetime of boring work, we had finally finished todays tutoring session.

“i think i’ve done more work today then i have my whole time of being in school,” i giggled with him. “it’s starting to get dark outside, i should probably start walking back now before it’s too late.” i smiled and picked my bag up off the soft carpeted floor.

“w-wait! i can drive you, i don’t want you getting kidnapped or something.” matt said, whisper-shouting to me as i began to walk away.

“are you sure? you really don’t have to i’m fine with walking.” i asked warmly, not wanting him to feel pressured to take me home.

“i’m 100% sure, it would be nice to have some company on the way home for once.” the blue-eyed boy stood up, grabbed his bag and took the lead as i followed after him.

we sat in a comfortable silence on the way home with his playlist subtly playing in the background. matt’s music taste was similar to mine, sweet, soft, and calming, with artist such as; cigarettes after sex, artic monkeys, the neighbourhood and more.

we took a left turn one final time and arrived at my home.

“thank you so much for driving me matt,” it was now pitch black outside, if i had of walked it wouldn’t of been home until approximately 10pm.

“it’s my pleasure,” matt carefully stepped out of his car and walked around to my side of the car, he opened the door and i climbed out onto the pavement opposite my house.

i smiled gratefully at the tall boy. “goodnight matt,” i commented and looked up at him innocently.

“goodnight y/n.” matt fought with everything in him to not kiss you right now, he knew it was wrong to be crushing on the most popular girl in his grade, but he couldn’t help it. he could most definitely understand why you had everyone wrapped around your finger in the first place, you was the most beautiful girl he ever laid his eyes on. when matt first saw you in the 2nd grade he finally understood what the word “perfect” meant, and when he first learned a few days ago he would be tutoring you he was filled with joy and excitement.

you were going to be the death of him.

@ CHRISWEETHEART

⋆˙⟡ tags : @chrattenthusiast @bernardsbendystraws @chestersturniolo @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @freshloverr @fruitglazed @hearts4chriss @kenzieiskoolaid @mattscoquette @ariestrxsh @mattssluttywaist @muwapsturniolo @m6ttsturniolo @nicksbf @onmykneesformatt @plasticferal @pussypie456 @recklesssturniolo @sturnioloshacker @strniohoeee @sturniolopepsi @whoreforchr1s @yesterdaysproblem @christinarowie332 @itwasmarooonn @freakyellssturniolo @delilahsturniolo @333michelle @annielolz @cconeyislandbaby @chriseatingmeoutin4k @n8doe @jetaimevous @sleepysturn @phimstarz @stonersturns @forgottxen @colorthecosmos444

[mahboimahboi]

NEIGHBOR BUDDY x M!Reader (Featuring Actor Mackenyu)

Fluff

You slammed the door of your room shut, while stomping your way to the balcony, huffing at the sound of your mother who's still screaming at the top of her lungs, angry that you went out last night again without permission and to top it off you went drinking. That was the first rule your mother ever wanted you to follow, but considering just how your head is made of rock, you always went against her laws and always obeyed nothing. At first it was just an impulsive thought, going out with your friends, but it soon became a habit and this type of situation between you and your mother became more of a routine. Well, you can't blame yourself, your mother is too strict for literally everything. You wanted to live your life not just stay around in your house and play prison jail. That is just suffocating.

Soon, after a few minutes, the noises died down and you let out a breath that you didn't know your were holding. You sighed through your nose, thanking the heavens that it is finally over. You just don't understand why your mother is specifically too harsh on you, when you're siblings both could do the same thing, but could avoid getting into trouble every single time. So, what difference does it make when you do it? You're literally a grown up already. In your 20s, to be exact, yet you're mother still treats you like an overgrown sized baby.

Usually, your anger would have seeped out and you'd start rampaging inside your room, but the sight of your handsome, tall, buff and everything hot and sexy neighbor, you couldn't help, but let your anger vaporize in just a second. It was the only sight you'd ever need to calm you down.

Mackenyu, your neighbor crush, noticing eyes on him, meets yours and gave you a smile. He waves his hand at you (so cool), while you did the same thing in reply to him. He soon catches the tiniest hint of sadness in your eyes and grew a little concerned. Just like always, he'd move across the street to get to you and climb from the ladder that was located near the railings of your room's balcony. "Your mom caught you again?" He asked you, his voice deep and calming, brows furrowing upon his worry. You nod your head, not saying a word. "Figured. You're such a naughty boy, Y/N. Can't say I dislike that fact about you." He commented, making you blush, but externally all you could ever do is just scoff.

"I can't just stand being with this family anymore. It's crazy how it's madly obvious that they have their favorites yet continue to state that they treat us all equally. What some pure bullshit." You complained to him, Mackenyu hopping inside to get to your side and sat on the bench, the male inviting you to take a seat beside him. You complied, before getting shocked when the buffer sized male wrapped his arms around you and started to caress your back.

"You know the thing I admire the most about you, Y/N? It's that even if you realize the mistakes they did to you, you still stay strong and resilient. You're so brave, Y/N." He said, while tears started to prick the side of your eyes. "If you want to run away, my house is always free." He said, you looking a bit confused.

"But, your house is just across ours." You told him in reply, hearing a soft chuckle from the other male.

"I never said which house, Y/N." Your eyes widened and looked up at him like a dog getting a new owner.

"You don't mean...?" Mackenyu nods his head and you throw yourself at him with so much joy that all you could ever think of was just how excited you are to finally be able to leave this hell of a house. "Yes, yes! I'll start packing." You said and immediately ran to your room and quickly did a heavy packing after locking the door to your room.

"That's my boy."

[ghostofaboy]

Inter-Agency Cooperation

Summary: Jack runs into another agent on a mission and figures out a new way for them both to get what they want.

Pairing: Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels/Javier Peña Rating: Explicit. Serious over 18s only | Word Count: 2633

Warnings: Frottage, anal sex, public sex, Jack is his own warning

Note: This as not been beta read so I apologize for any mistakes. This is a fic with gay/bi characters. Please make sure you've read the warnings. Header by @beskarandblasters

Of all the places Jack thought he'd find himself today, a dive bar in the middle of butt fuck nowhere watching a cage fight wasn't even on his list. Silly, really, considering all the strange places his Statesman missions took him. All around him, large drunken men in plaid shirts jeered and shouted at the two half naked men in the cage. The entire bar stank of stale beer and sweat, which made Jack long for the heady woody smells of the Statesman barrel room, but he couldn't argue with the view.

In the cage, a massive slapdash metal structure that dominated the center of the rundown establishment, were two young men. Neither could have been older than twenty-five, both striped to the waist in just their jeans, and both covered in blood and sweat. It was the most homoerotic shit Jack had ever seen in such a painfully hetero bar. He had to stifle a laugh whenever he thought about it.

Taking another sip of his shitty beer, Jack glanced over to his mark, only to find him in the exact same spot since the last time he checked. Fast asleep in a corner booth, drooling into his thick, bushy beard. Another quick look around the bar confirmed that no one else was paying either of them any attention; except for one man.

Sat at a table, set off to the corner with a view of Jack, his mark and the cage, was a broody looking motherfucker. Sporting a well-worn leather jacket, a mustache similar to his own and a casual air that oozed practiced confidence, the other man had definitely made him. Everything about this guy said agent, the only question was what kind.

Jack's money was on CIA considering the dealings his sleepy mark was into, but FBI was also a possibility. There was only one way to find out, and considering Jack didn't feel like competing with another agent for the mark, working together was the better option for them both. Eying the other man, Jack could see he was also nursing what passed for beer in this shithole. There was his opening.

Sliding off his barstool, Jack glanced over at the two young men now slumping against each other, gasping for breath, the sweat rolling off them. Swaggering over to the stranger's table, Jack was met with a single raised eyebrow and a tilt of the head.

"Evenin'." Jack tipped his hat, before leaning down slightly closer to the other man. "Enjoyin' the entertainment?"

"Not my usual kind of thing." The other man smirked and Jack could just pick out the hints of a Texan accent. "But when in Rome or whatever."

"I agree." Jack gave a chuckle. "Almost makes up for the terrible beer. Do you mind if I join you?" Jack gestured to the free chair next to the stranger.

The other man didn't respond beyond a small nod, but his eyes watched Jack intently as he slid into the seat. 

“I don’t know about you,” Jack leaned in conspiratorially, “but I usually prefer somethin’ a little stronger. Now, I’m a whiskey man myself. How about you?”

“I’m a cut the bullshit kinda man.” The stranger sat up a little straighter, locking eyes with Jack with a steadiness that could only come from years of experience in the field. “So, why don’t you do us both a favor and tell me who you are and what you want.”

“To the point, I respect that.” Jack nodded. “All right. I’m Agent Jack Daniels, and I’m here keepin’ an eye on that fella over there. Reckon you know who I mean, seein’ as you’ve also got eyes on him. I need him alive as part of an investigation, and I get the feelin’ you do too.”

“You CIA?”

“No.” Jack carefully pulled his fake DIA badge from his jacket, flashing it under the table at the stranger. “You?”

“DEA.” The stranger mimicked Jack, carefully and covertly showing his badge. “Javier Peña. Our guy has links to a new player in the narcotics trade.”

“Indeed he does.” Jack nodded again, glancing around to make sure no one was watching or listening to them. “Amongst other things. Peña, huh? Weren’t you part of the team that took down Escobar?”

Javier shifted in his seat. “That was a long time ago. So what do you want to do? I’m here tonight to see who he meets up with.”

“He ain’t meetin’ up with anyone tonight. He was meant to, but I’ve already made sure that ain’t happenin’.” Jack leaned back in his chair, his eyes drifting over to the cage fighters who were rolling around on the floor trading punches. “The dumb fuck’ll stay here, so I was gonna wait until the mornin’ and tail him back to wherever he’s holed up. You’re welcome to join me.”

Jack watched as Javier’s sharp eyes assessed him thoroughly. Jack could feel those dark eyes taking in every detail of him and knew that on some level Javier wasn’t buying his story. But was it enough for him to leave?

“Fine.” Javier scowled, taking a swig of beer, pulling a face at the taste. “I guess we just wait then.”

“At least there’s a show.” Jack gestured to the cage, scooting his chair back slightly so he was parallel to Javier at the table. “Who’s your money on? The fuckin’ twink blond or the other one?”

“At least that one can grow facial hair.” Javier let out a harsh laugh as he watched the two fighters. 

The crowd was getting impatient now, roaring and booing for the two young men to hurry up and finish. The blond responded by lunging at the darker haired man, who stepped back to avoid the attack. Grabbing hold of each other by the jeans, the two men fell to the floor of the cage again, tussling back and forth, much to the pleasure of the crowd. 

A loud whoop came from one section of the gathered men and as Jack craned his neck to look he could see that the blond had managed to pull down the other man’s jeans, exposing his ass. As the fighters rolled, grabbed and tugged at each other, the jeans worked their way further down until the man’s cock and balls were free. By this point, he was pinned under the blond, who had straddled his back, causing the other man’s legs to kick wildly. The result was a fantastic view of his asshole bared for the crowd, with his heavy dick and balls swinging back and forth. 

Much of the crowd was cheering now, clearly enjoying what they were seeing, as the blond fighter rolled the other man onto his back, yanking his jeans completely off victoriously. Now stark naked, bruised and bloodied, the other fighter slowly climbed to his feet before quickly barrelling into the blond. 

Jack could feel his cock stirring as he watched the younger fighter’s naked body in front of him. He wasn’t alone, and Jack could spot more than a few tented pants in the audience. The blond was grabbing the other fighter’s ass and pulling his cheeks open, giving everyone a good view of a tight puckered hole, and Jack could feel his cheeks heating up as he stared. Pulling his eyes away to grab his hip flask from his belt, Jack’s eye flickered over to Javier. 

The other man was leaning back casually in his chair, giving the impression to anyone that he was completely disinterested in what he was watching. Taking a mouthful of whiskey, Jack let his eyes drift lower, his curiosity getting the better of him, and to Jack’s delight he could see the very obvious outline of an erection in those ridiculously tight jeans.

Holding his flask out to Javier, Jack couldn’t stop himself smirking as the other man jumped slightly, dropping the veneer of coolness for a moment, before taking the flask. Letting his eyes drop back down to the bulge in Javier’s jeans, Jack made sure to let the other man catch him looking as the flask was returned to him. 

“Good show, am I right?” Jack’s voice was a husky whisper as he leaned over to Javier. 

“Uh, sure.” Javier’s cheeks flushed slightly as he glanced around, looking everywhere in the bar except at the two young men glistening with sweat as the naked fighter ripped open the blond’s jeans as he swung him against the cage. His body clattering against the metal, his long cock squashed against the bars.

Jack waiting patiently until Javier’s eyes returned to him before gesturing discreetly at his hard on. “Wanna fuck?”

/////

Crashing around the back of the bar, lips clumsily found lips as teeth clashed and hands roamed. Slamming Jack up against the wall of the building, Javier’s mouth forcefully met his as the two men grunted and moaned in the cold night.

Venturing his hands lower, Jack cupped Javier’s erection through the denim, making the other man buck into his palm as he forced his tongue past Jack’s lips. It had been a long time since Jack had been with someone so aggressively dominant, and it was going straight to his cock, which strained against its confines.

Tugging open Javier’s fly, Jack reached inside, stroking the hard length, feeling it twitch in his hand as Javier’s finger’s tangled into Jack’s hair under his hat. Freeing his own cock, Jack pulled Javier in closer, bringing their erections together, as he began to steadily pump them with his hands. 

Javier moaned into Jack’s mouth an incomprehensible stream of English and Spanish as he trapped Jack against the wall, pinning him with his body as he rolled his hips in time with Jack’s strokes. But it wasn’t enough. Jack needed more. There was something about this grumpy DEA agent that was filling his head with the most obscene thoughts, and damn it if Jack wasn’t going to try and fulfil some of them.

Pulling his head back slightly to break the frantic kiss, Jack nuzzled against Javier’s jaw as the other man growled and ground against him.

“You wanna fuck me?” Jack panted into Javier’s ear, stopping his hand and pulling it away from their cocks. “I got lube and condoms.”

“Yes.” Was the simple, growled response as Javier took a step back, glancing around as Jack fished a condom out of his jacket.

As Javier busied himself putting it on, Jack quickly unbuckled his belt, pulling his jeans and underwear down to his knees. Reaching behind him, Jack pushed a finger into his ass, hissing at the coldness of the lube, before adding a second finger. Satisfied at the lubrication, Jack handed the tube to Javier, who applied a couple of drops before returning it.

Turning round, Jack steadied himself on the wall with his forearms, planting his feet as far apart as he could and bend over slightly to give Javier access to his ass. He could feel a hand on his bare hip and the tip of Javier’s cock lining up with his entrance before, slowly, Javier began to enter Jack. 

Jack let his head drop down as he bit back a moan as Javier’s thick length steady began to fill him. Inch by inch, Javier sank into Jack's hot waiting hole, both hands now gripping Jack's hips as his cock disappeared into Jack's body. Then, once he was buried to the hilt, Javier paused. Jack could hear him muttering and breathing heavily behind him as Jack adjusted to the size.

"You good?" Javier eventually whispered, one hand idly stroking Jack's exposed skin.

"I'm good." Jack hissed back, his arousal fogging his head. "Gimme all you got."

Jack heard a soft chuckled before Javier began to move. Pulling almost completely out slowly, before suddenly slamming back into Jack's waiting ass. Jack bit back a yelp as Javier began to set a rough, unrelenting pace. Each thrust pounding into Jack, rocking him forward until his cheek was barely touching the cold stone of the building. Javier's hips snapped against him as the obscene sound of flesh against flesh filled the night air. 

But it still wasn't enough. Jack was sure at this pace Javier wasn't going to last long, and given their extremely public locale that might be for the best. But Jack needed more. Arching his back, Jack tilted his hips slightly and sure enough the next time Javier plunged into him a jolt of electricity coursed through Jack. That's what he needed.

Javier seemed to quickly pick up on what Jack wanted, grabbing his hip with one hand and his hair with another to keep Jack in the right position. Then, like a jackhammer, Javier began to brutally fuck Jack. 

Jack's skin prickled with heat as the tension building in him threatened to explode. All he could do was get out shaking moans, and Javier huffed and panted behind him. The pace was becoming more erratic now, with each strike of Javier's hips against his ass, Jack could feel the other man's grip on his control slipping. The hands holding him dug their fingers in deep as Javier's tempo faltered. 

Between his legs, Jack's cock swung with every thrust, adding to the tantalizing anticipation as he got closer and closer to the edge. Then with a grunt and a hard snap of his hips forward, Jack felt Javier come. For a few seconds, he stilled, as Jack felt the cock inside him twitching through its release. Then, without warning, Javier began to pounding into Jack again.

The hand on his hip moved, reaching under to gently pump Jack's cock in time with Javier's thrusts. That was enough.

Like falling off a cliff, Jack came, spilling himself onto the dirt as his trembled in Javier's grip. Shockwaves of ecstasy rocked him as Javier continued to roll his hips, hitting that sweet spot, making Jack's knees buckle.

Jack would have been content to rest there against the wall of the bar, Javier's cock still buried in him, as he allowed the high of his orgasm to ebb away for a little longer. But just as his head began to clear of static, he felt Javier tense behind him, then quickly pull his softening length from Jack's now gaping hole.

"Fuck." Javier hissed. "Someone's coming."

"Dammit." Jack muttered, his words slurring together as he fought to pull his jeans up. 

Voices drifted through the cold night air and Jack watched warily as two men stumbled their way towards a truck, laughing heartily as a third more sober looking friend brought up the rear. Turning back to Javier, who was in the process of disposing of the condom, Jack smirked.

"We're good. You wanna head back inside, or are you up for a second round somewhere a little more private?"

"Fuck." Javier chuckled, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and after offering them to Jack, brought one to his lips and lit it. "Tempting. Very tempting, actually. But we have work to do."

"Ah, that dumb fuck'll still be asleep for a few hours yet." Jack waved a hand, but following as Javier started to make his way back round to the front door of the bar. "How about we wait till this place clears out some, then have round two in the men's room?"

Blowing out a puff of smoke, Javier stopped at the door, looking around thoughtfully. There were only a handful of patrons still in the bar now. As predicted, their mark was still sound asleep where they had left him. The fight was over, with the two young men now redressed and counting their winnings at a table in the corner. Leaning against the doorway, Javier turned back to Jack with a smirk.

"You wanna fuck me this time?"

/////

If you enjoy this please give it a reblog to share with other.

[skaruresonic]

I've always found the way Sonic and Shadow's rivalry in SA2 develops one of its strongest points

When Shadow first meets Sonic he's just a blip on his radar, just some rando he gets to humiliate with Chaos Control for the lols. But during their fight on Prison Island Sonic shows himself to be capable of putting Shadow on his toes. Before the whole Emerl thing recently that must've been the very first time Shadow had ever found himself struggling against an opponent

However instead of doing the usual anime rival trope of getting pissy about it, Shadow seems to....almost grow interested in Sonic?

When he thinks Sonic got blown up in the capsule he sounds almost disappointed by the fact, and when he finds out that Sonic actually saved himself he's visibly smirking and even asks him his name before they battle

Of course Shadow doesn't like Sonic in any way and he's still gonna kill him...but I find it interesting how his behavior towards him seems to go from wanting to humiliate him like he does to all his foes to seemingly coming to enjoy this rivalry of theirs

Shadow was literally created to be the very best, he's lived all his life knowing that nobody could ever even remotely reach him, yet suddenly this weird guy comes out and manages to pose a genuine challenge, surprising him at every turn. In a weird way, when I see that cutscene before their last battle, it feels to me like Shadow is, in a small way, almost glad to have met Sonic. The two of then could not be more opposed to each other, yet when fighting they're on the exact same wavelength.

Or maybe I'm just reading too much into it

(And no I'm not trying to imply any Sonadow bullshit here don't worry)

SA2 portrays Sonic and Shadow's dichotomy masterfully. Good and evil. Light and shadow. Earth and space. Past and present. Yin and yang. Mirror and reflection.

Shadow is the first and perhaps only character who has really gotten Sonic's goat, by framing him for something he didn't do. And it's extra hilarious considering it seems to be almost accidental on Shadow's part---he takes a certain Schadenfreude in having circumstance pin the blame on Sonic.

Yes, I realize there might have been a deleted scene where Eggman tells Shadow about Sonic, but because the final game lacks it, it doesn't come off that way. Especially since Eggman seemed shocked to see Shadow on the news; he wasn't expecting him to have robbed a bank.

Likewise, Sonic is amazed by Shadow's speed. It really goes to show the difference between his pride (confidence) and his pride (ego) when he straight-up admits "Wow! He's fast!" He's not like "grr this bitch is faster than me," he is genuinely amazed. This scene will later be mirrored by Shadow's surprise that Sonic managed to perform Chaos Control with a fake Emerald. These two have a genuine admiration for each other's skill.

---

When he thinks Sonic got blown up in the capsule he sounds almost disappointed by the fact, and when he finds out that Sonic actually saved himself he's visibly smirking and even asks him his name before they battle

Yeah, Shadow specifically says "I guess he was just a regular hedgehog after all."

I'm guessing as well that at this point in the story, he has become cognizant that the end is near and is mentally checking out in preparation. That's why I'm of the belief that an unredeemed Shadow would be dead, not a tyrant.

Notice the shift in his demeanor from the beginning of the game to about the 3/4ths mark. He becomes far quieter and less theatrical. He stares off into space the closer they come to colony drop. It's eerie.

---

Of course Shadow doesn't like Sonic in any way and he's still gonna kill him...but I find it interesting how his behavior towards him seems to go from wanting to humiliate him like he does to all his foes to seemingly coming to enjoy this rivalry of theirs

Well, as Eggman's eulogy proves, a foe's admiration and the desire to kill them aren't always mutually exclusive. Shadow definitely does come to respect Sonic over the course of the game, if only because Sonic dies hard.

Likewise, Sonic accepts Shadow's change of heart and, if Battle is any indication, comes to think highly of him for it.

Hardcore recognizes hardcore. xP

---

Shadow was literally created to be the very best, he's lived all his life knowing that nobody could ever even remotely reach him, yet suddenly this weird guy comes out and manages to pose a genuine challenge, surprising him at every turn. In a weird way, when I see that cutscene before their last battle, it feels to me like Shadow is, in a small way, almost glad to have met Sonic. The two of then could not be more opposed to each other, yet when fighting they're on the exact same wavelength.

>>has flashbacks to discourse over whether Sonic is the real ULF based on Shadow's line during Finalhazard

>>suddenly understands why Iizuka made That Face(tm)

[luigiblood]

An interesting view of Retro NSO Patents

So a bunch of patents from Nintendo recently got published and got my attention: They are related to the retro Nintendo Switch Online service and how it works and it brings a bit of an interesting view of it, with features that are DEFINITELY not inside the apps as of now.

As I went through them, I decided to also go back a little bit to earlier ones.

Just in case, for every reader:

At no point this describes the future of NSO! Let that be clear!!

Unlike most people who reports on patents, I actually will LINK the original patents.

US11003312B2 - NSO User Interface

You can find this patent here: https://patents.google.com/patent/US11003312B2/en

This seems to be among the earliest ones, it's from 2018, right before the launch of NES NSO that happened in September 2018.

This is an exact description of how the NSO UI works, where each image (or box arts, as they are usually used) are scaled roughly equivalent to each row so it always fits perfectly.

They had planned initially for details to be basically on the box art, thankfully they changed that completely for a full window in the final version.

They also had Special versions / Extra versions also nailed down already at that time, which are just games with preloaded save states, which the patent does explain. And the whole NEW thing where a new game is packaged like a gift and you just open them as you select them, that's already in the final app as well.

But here's something cursed:

This is a full vertical version of the user interface, which we've never seen so far.

US20240165505A1 - GB/GBA Multiplayer

This patent can be found here: https://patents.google.com/patent/US20240165505A1/en

This existed since late 2022 in Japan, but got a US version the next year, then published this year.

This patent explains how multiplayer works for GB and GBA NSO, as in emulating multiplayer between different linked systems, whether through LAN or online.

It gets complicated to read, but it's really about different ways to handle emulation of multiplayer, from one way where each player run their own emulator on their systems, to what I believe to be actually used: Running up to 4 emulators on each player's systems at the same time and keeping them synchronized through each player's input, but only display one of them corresponding to each player.

I believe this last way is used because all data sent through link cable is expected to be instant, you cannot delay this data, because this is asking for constant lag, but emulating all consoles on each player's system does solve this problem.

There also some quick algorithms in there about how to handle connections, disconnections and so on, but at this point it's not too interesting to explain because it works just like the apps.

US20240181342A1 - NSO User Interface (Save System)

This patent can be found here: https://patents.google.com/patent/US20240181342A1/en

It's dated just like the previous one, actually.

It might sound like the first one, but this one is more than meets the eye. Some articles talked about this as like, new Switch OS UI which is just bullshit (hi GameRant), or as GameCube NSO (wtf are you smoking to think of that straight up), but this one is actually about saves!

This image is actually having the main game on the left side, and everything to its right are all save states! You can see 2 saves for the first game, and 5 saves for the second game, it even has two rows for a single game which never happens on NSO apps. Of course, each save are just essentially having a screenshot of when the save state was taken at that moment.

This can very well be an alternative way of things, as I think this looks quite a bit cumbersome in how much space it uses.

But what's interesting is the Auto Save feature, which is not a feature of retro NSO currently. It is explained that the auto save can be enabled or not, and can happen anytime, including within a repeated time interval. This would be very nice in case of crashes.

And then, the elephant in the room: Yes, this looks like you could do more than 4 saves, with a peek of the suspension menu with a way to scroll through saves, the first option being to create a new save, without necessarily having to choose a numbered save state ID.

US20240173627A1 - Mission Play Mode

This patent can be found here: https://patents.google.com/patent/US20240173627A1/en

Now, this one is really sad because this shows an actual mission mode for retro NSO apps with objectives and rewards!

This has a new mode included called Mission Play, and you are provided with a mission that you can enter.

In this case it's about hitting enemies, keeping a count for a mission, but also even keeping a count of every single player in a region, and then the world!

This is really cool! I really think they should be doing this, but it seems Nintendo World Championships: NES Edition might do it instead.

That said, this being planned for retro NSO systems is definitely not entirely news for me, because I had noticed a long time ago that the SNES NSO emulator definitely kept track of specific game information as you play, it wasn't necessarily sent anywhere, but they were thinking about it, for several SNES games.

Funnily enough, these are real examples of detections for Super Mario Advance 2 specifically. This is pretty much how the memory and code looks like for the game.

I want to insist though: These are patents, these are for ideas, so this patent might have been publicly published because of Nintendo World Championships: NES Edition, but through experience, most of the time, as much as they describe stuff for illustrative purposes, it is usually describe a real example that was in development at one point or another.

Again, though: At no point this describes the future of NSO! Let that be clear!

But it gives us a view of what Nintendo and NERD had in mind for development. And, at least, I actually give links unlike a few who loves to tease bullshit through those.

[cod-thoughts]

Day 3 of 31 days of COD

Word count: 1.5k

Relationships: Price/Ghost, Price & Soap, Price & Gaz

Tags: hurt/comfort, love confessions, ghost goes dark.

“I know,” Price said, his voice lower, more measured. “But this feels different.” Soap stepped closer, his gaze softening. “It’s different because it’s him.” That hit Price like a punch. He tensed, but Soap wasn’t done. “You’re not just worried about a soldier, Cap. You’re worried about him. Simon.” Keep reading under the read more or on AO3

Price had always been good at waiting.

As a soldier, patience was a skill you learned quickly or not at all. In the field, rushing in could get you killed. So Price waited. He waited in war zones, in briefing rooms, at borders and checkpoints. He could hold his breath through hours of tension, waiting for the exact right moment to strike. And in all the years he’d known Ghost—Simon—he’d learned to wait with him, too.

The attraction had been there for years, creeping in silently between missions, lingering in shared glances across war tables, in the brush of hands during training. But both men were soldiers first and foremost, and neither had made a move. They danced around it instead, the push and pull of their unspoken connection weaving through every conversation, every mission debrief, every shared smoke on cold nights. Price convinced himself it was enough. That he could live with the quiet understanding, even if neither of them dared to cross that invisible line.

But now, pacing the floor of the command center, Price was struggling. This was different. This was Ghost on a solo mission, out of contact for longer than he should have been.

It wasn’t unusual for Ghost to go dark for a bit—he was one of the best, after all—but this time, it felt different. It had been over a week since his last check-in, and Price couldn’t shake the creeping unease that had been gnawing at him since the radio had gone silent.

He should have checked in by now.

Price's jaw clenched as he looked at the map spread out on the table, the lines and dots indicating where Ghost had last been. His fingers tightened around the edge of the desk, knuckles white. He knew he should be staying calm, should trust Ghost’s instincts, but the anxiety had begun creeping up his spine days ago, and now it was clawing at his chest.

He glanced at the clock. Another hour. Another stretch of time that he couldn’t account for Ghost’s safety.

Gaz and Soap had been watching him closely for days now, sharing worried glances when they thought Price wasn’t looking. But he saw it. He felt their concern, the way Soap tried to lighten the mood with banter, the way Gaz dropped small reassurances, even though neither of them could really shake the same anxiety gnawing at them all.

But this was different for Price. It wasn’t just a team member out of contact. It wasn’t just a soldier missing. It was Simon. And Price wasn’t sure how much longer he could wait.

---

Soap caught Price pacing again. The older man’s steady, calm exterior had finally begun to crack. It was subtle, just in the way his shoulders tensed or how he gripped his radio tighter than necessary. Soap watched from the doorway, exchanging a look with Gaz before stepping into the room.

“Cap…” Soap’s voice was soft, lacking its usual sharpness. “You’ve got to stop torturing yourself like this.”

Price didn’t look up from the map. “I’m not torturing myself, Johnny.”

Soap sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We both know that’s bullshit. You’ve been on edge for days. You need to trust that he’ll be fine.”

Price’s eyes darted to Soap, the sharpness in them flickering, replaced for just a moment by something rawer. “He’s been off comms for two weeks.”

Gaz stepped forward, his tone calm but firm. “He’s Ghost, Price. This is what he does. He’s gone dark before, and he’ll come back like he always does.”

Price didn’t answer right away. He stood there, staring at the map, his fingers tracing over the last known coordinates Ghost had reported. Then he let out a slow breath and straightened.

“I know,” Price said, his voice lower, more measured. “But this feels different.”

Soap stepped closer, his gaze softening. “It’s different because it’s him.”

That hit Price like a punch. He tensed, but Soap wasn’t done.

“You’re not just worried about a soldier, Cap. You’re worried about him. Simon.”

Price's eyes flickered, the name settling between them like a truth they’d all been avoiding.

Gaz, who’d been quieter up to this point, finally stepped forward. “You’ve been dancing around this for years, mate. We’ve all seen it.”

Price stiffened. He didn’t want to admit it, not now, not when Simon was still out there, not when he had no idea if—

“You should see how he looks at you,” Soap whispered, cutting through Price’s internal struggle. “He loves you too.”

Price froze. His heart lurched at the words, something tightening in his chest so sharply that he had to take a breath just to steady himself. He’d always suspected—hoped—that maybe Ghost felt the same, but hearing it said out loud like that, with so much certainty, sent his mind reeling.

“John…” Price’s voice was low, full of warning, but Soap held his gaze.

“You think we’re blind?” Soap pressed gently, his voice full of quiet understanding. “We’ve all seen it for years, Cap. The way you look at him. The way he looks at you.”

Price closed his eyes for a moment, trying to suppress the wave of emotion threatening to swallow him whole. “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Not when he’s still out there.”

“It does matter,” Gaz interjected, stepping up beside Soap. “Because you need to do something about it, before it’s too late.”

Price opened his eyes, looking between them. He wanted to argue, to push them away, to say that this wasn’t the time. But the truth of it—the weight of everything he’d been feeling for so long—was too much to deny any longer. Simon was out there, missing, and Price was terrified of what he’d never said. What he might never get the chance to say.

He swallowed hard, pushing down the panic, the fear. “And what if he doesn’t come back?”

Soap’s expression softened even further, his hand coming to rest on Price’s shoulder in a rare show of comfort. “He’ll come back, Cap. He’ll come back for you.”

---

Ghost returned in the dead of night, bloodied but alive.

Price was the first to see him, stepping out of the shadows like he was nothing more than a ghost himself. The relief hit Price like a sledgehammer, the tightness in his chest loosening in a flood of emotion he could barely contain. But as Ghost came closer, limping slightly, face shadowed with exhaustion, all Price could focus on was the overwhelming need to do something.

“Simon,” Price breathed, stepping forward, his voice low, but full of everything he’d been holding in for weeks.

Ghost’s eyes flicked up to meet his, and for the first time in as long as Price could remember, the tension between them snapped. There was no space for pretending anymore, no room for the careful dance they’d been doing for years.

“You didn’t check in,” Price said, his voice trembling slightly, a mix of anger and relief.

Ghost’s brow furrowed, guilt flickering in his gaze. “Ran into trouble. Didn’t want to—”

“Don’t,” Price interrupted, his voice sharp but cracking at the edges. He stepped closer, so close he could feel the heat radiating off Ghost’s body. “Don’t give me excuses. You were gone for three fucking weeks!”

“I’m fine,” Ghost tried, his voice quiet, but Price wasn’t having it.

“I wasn’t,” Price snapped, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Ghost froze, his eyes widening just slightly, caught off guard by the sudden intensity in Price’s tone. And then Price did something neither of them had expected.

He reached out, grabbing Ghost’s vest and pulling him in, closing the gap between them with a desperation that had been simmering for far too long. Ghost barely had time to react before Price’s lips were on his, rough and urgent, the kiss full of everything Price hadn’t said—everything he’d been too afraid to admit for years.

Ghost tensed at first, surprised, but then—slowly—he melted into it, his hands coming up to grasp Price’s shoulders, holding him there as if grounding them both. When they finally pulled apart, both of them breathing heavily, Price’s hands stayed fisted in Ghost’s vest, their foreheads resting together.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Price admitted, his voice hoarse, the vulnerability laid bare between them.

Ghost’s hand slipped up to cup the side of Price’s face, his thumb brushing over the rough stubble. “You didn’t,” he whispered. “You won’t.”

Price closed his eyes, the relief crashing over him like a wave, and for the first time in weeks, he felt like he could breathe again.

“I love you, Simon,” Price murmured, the words coming out rough but steady, as if they’d been sitting on the edge of his tongue for years, waiting for the right moment to fall.

Ghost’s fingers tightened slightly, and when Price opened his eyes, he saw the softest, most unguarded look on Simon’s face. The same look he’d been hiding behind for years.

“I love you too,” Ghost whispered, his voice steady, sure, and more open than Price had ever heard it.

And that was all Price needed to hear.

[pandenewie]

31 - Somebody that you used to know

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Jungwon has never wanted to skip school more in his life. He hates it; the sympathetic looks he gets as he walks through the halls, the hushed whispers from eager onlookers wondering just what happened between him and Y/n. If being in a relationship in high school was bad, publicly breaking up is much worse.

It doesn’t help that Y/n is now seemingly back to normal - leaving people to believe that they were the one who dumped him. Although it is technically true… if only they knew the reason. Jungwon would never tell them though; he’s not one for gossip. And despite how much Y/n hurt him, he would never do something like that to them.

Seeing Y/n back to their normal sarcastic self is strange. Jungwon can’t lie, he did slightly enjoy seeing Y/n moping around school. No teasing, no over-the-top outfits. Just Y/n, in Jungwon’s jacket, feeling the exact same way that he did. It almost tricked him into thinking they were just as sad as he is. Almost.

“Hey, Prez!”

Jungwon pulls out one of his earbuds, turning towards the call of his nickname. There, stands Wonyoung and Ricky - smiling happily at him. “Oh… hey guys.” He replies. “We were gonna head to the library after school because Y/n and Bahiyyih have a project to work on. Is there any council work you need us to do?” Wonyoung asks happily. She quickly notices the way Jungwon’s body momentarily tenses at the mention of Y/n.

“Sorry… I should’ve asked if you were comfortable with us hanging out with them.” She mumbles, causing Jungwon to scratch the back of his neck sheepishly. “Why? It’s not like I control who you hang out with.” He laughs. “Well yeah but… we don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything.” She continues, earning an assertive nod from Ricky to back her up.

“Guys, you’re allowed to be friends with whoever you want.  It’s not like we got divorced and you’re picking your favourite parent.” Jungwon says. “Kinda feels like it…” Ricky mumbles, immediately getting a “shut up” nudge from Wonyoung.

“Okay, well was there anything you needed us to do? Or just, work that you want us to take off your hands?” Wonyoung asks hopefully. Jungwon pauses to think for a moment. He can’t remember the last time someone offered to do something for him. It’s usually the other way round, him doing favours for everyone who asks, no matter how overloaded he becomes.

Jungwon has a lot on his plate. Not even just with council stuff - his own work as well, let alone the whole Y/n issue that he’s dealing with. Despite all this, he shows a polite smile and shakes his head. “Thanks but I’ve got it all covered. I’d hate to put extra pressure on you guys. I’ll let you know if anything else comes up, though.” He smiles.

Wonyoung and Ricky go to reply but Jungwon quickly spins on his heels, mumbling something about getting to class before walking off down the hallway. Sending each other a worried look, the two make their way back to Y/n and the rest of the group.

“He said he had everything covered.” Ricky shrugs, earning a sigh from Y/n. “That’s bullshit. Last week he was literally crying about how stressed he is.” They mumble, defeated. “Thanks for trying though.” Y/n adds, smiling when Wonyoung gently squeezes their shoulder. “I think maybe you should talk to him. If you’re worried about him, this could be a great way to get him to open up again.” She suggests. “I’ll think about it…” Y/n sighs.

Finding Jungwon is a very simple task for Y/n. With all the time they spent with him over the last couple of months, they know his schedule as if it were their own. So it’s no surprise to find him in Mr Jeon’s empty classroom just before final period is about to start.

Letting out a sigh, Y/n gently knocks on the open door - gaining the attention of the council president. Jungwon’s head shoots up, his eyes immediately widening as they land on Y/n.

“Sorry… Do you need to use this space? I’ll move.” Jungwon blurts out, rushing to collect his things. “I came to talk to you.” Y/n says, their words immediately halting Jungwon’s movements. It’s silent for a moment as Jungwon tries to think of any excuse to get out of this situation. “We don’t have to… I don’t think that’s a very good idea.” Jungwon stutters out, avoiding eye contact.

Sighing, Y/n walks into the room and moves to lean against Mr Jeon’s desk. They considered sitting in the seat next to Jungwon but figured that proximity would likely scare him off. “We don’t have to talk about us if you don’t want to, but I’m here to talk about you.” Jungwon awkwardly laughs at this - he’s never been the best at confrontation. “What about me?” He asks, eyes quickly flickering to glance at Y/n’s expression before moving back to stare at his book.

“Wonyoung and Ricky offered to take over some of the council work so that you’re not overwhelmed and you turned them down… why?” Y/n’s words cause Jungwon’s entire body to tense, as he looks up at them with a confused expression. “How do you know about that?” He asks.

Now it’s Y/n’s turn to be nervous, as they begin to fiddle with the sleeve of their jacket. Well, Jungwon’s jacket. “I may have… told them that you were working really hard and that I was worried about you… and suggested that they try to help where they can.” Y/n mumbles out. With Y/n’s confession, the room falls quiet for a few moments before Jungwon speaks:

“Did I ask you to do that?”

Y/n’s head snaps up at his words, looking at him confused. “I… Jungwon, I did it because I’m worried. Besides, you know I don’t do as I’m asked.” “Do I know that? I barely know you at all, Y/n.” Jungwon bites back.

For the first time in a while, Y/n is rendered speechless. “I’m fine, okay? And I definitely don’t need you worrying about me or interfering with my life. Just leave me alone, Y/n.” Jungwon sighs, picking up his remaining things and shoving them into his bag.

“Jungwon, wait!” Y/n calls out as he goes to move past them. “It doesn’t have to be me, okay? It can be Wonyoung or Ricky, even Niki, Shota, Jongseob, anybody. Just please… let someone help you. You said you told me things that you’d never told anyone else… even if I’m not in your life anymore, knowing what I know about you… I want to do something. Even if it’s through other people. Just let me help.” Y/n says, almost desperately.

Jungwon pauses slightly at their words before shaking his head slightly. “You don’t know me, Y/n. And I definitely don’t need your help.” Jungwon speaks before walking out of the classroom.

The situation is almost identical to the one just a week ago, although this time, Y/n is the one left in the classroom as they watch Jungwon walk away. They don’t want to cry, knowing that they deserve every bit of the way Jungwon is treating them. Still, they can’t help the salty tear that slowly slips down their cheek. They have no idea how to fix this.

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