#also the fixed camera my enemy

[error404vnotfound]

endless walking, I mean, pointless waiting—sorry i.

chants of sennaar the game

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

tell me again that you hate me

a/n: i kinda just poured all of the filth ever into this one fic... you're welcome.

summary: “you know, I could help you. Pop that little cherry for you,” he shrugged as if he didn’t seem out of his mind for what he was brashly uttering, “you desperately need it, that fucking stick up your ass makes you such a bitch to be around. But no one is gonna wanna bang you, I mean, maybe you could be kinda hot if you weren’t such a fucking loser, if you didn’t dress like a fucking pogue, but I don’t think anyone would commit social suicide like that. So, I’ll take care of it. Fix that problem for the good of everyone else.” 

warnings: bully!stepbro!rafe cameron x virgin!reader, smut, dark content, dubcon/noncon, enemies to lovers, rafe is in college while reader is still in high school (everyone is over 18), blackmail, alcohol consumption, allusion to drug use, drunk driving, hidden cameras, panty stealing, references to somno, possessiveness, kissing, loss of virginity, size kink, belly bulge, pain kink, dirty talk, impact play, oral, pussyjob, just the tip, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, cumplay, no aftercare and not really any foreplay, public sex, rafe is mean and pervy and dark but it's all fun because it's just a silly fantasy

word count: 5153

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Your life had turned into a living nightmare.

You thought that when your high school bully graduated, you’d finally get rid of him. But little did you know what the future held in store, just who your own mother would decide to marry and what particular family you’d be forced to fuse with. 

Rafe Cameron had been the bane of your existence for years. Sure, when you’d first met him, you admittedly had a bit of a crush on him, but that was until he noticed you and truly showed you the notorious bully that he was. And now that he, the very person who had turned your teenage years into literal hell, had become your stepbrother, you couldn’t wait to get out of there, move halfway across the globe just to never see his face again. 

It also didn’t help matters that you got situated in the room right next to his, even had to share a Jack and Jill bathroom with him. 

Now what you didn’t know was how Rafe’s feelings truly were towards you. How he only started bullying you because you made him feel some type of way that no other chick did, but you came from the wrong side of the island, so getting those feelings out in the form of cruelty only seemed natural to a guy such as him. You had no idea that it was actually you whom he thought about every time he jerked off on the other side of that incredibly thin wall you shared, or even that his wicked fascination with you only seemed to grow now that you were a part of the family. 

The impatient knocks were no use, so swiftly you swung the door to Rafe’s bedroom open. He was nowhere in sight, but before you could turn around to search for him in another place, the light that his computer monitor blared out into the space caught your eye.

Your vision however grew wide as soon as you saw the taboo tab that was open. It was porn, but not just any porn. The open page was littered with rows and rows of graphic videos that all fell under the stepsister search he had typed in. 

Frozen in your stance, you wanted to sprint out of there, though at the same time, some part of you wanted to inch closer and snoop further. 

“What the fuck are you doing in my room?” a voice blared from behind you and caused you to jump.

Skittering away from the desk, you spotted the familiar buzzcut standing in the doorway. 

“I–, uh,” you swallowed and recalled the reason for your hunt, “my mom’s forcing me to go to that party at Topper’s tonight.”

“Okay, and?” he scoffed. 

“And so, because I don’t really do that sort of thing–”

“Because you’re a fucking loser who never gets invited.”

“Because I have better things to spend my Friday nights doing, your father wanted you to keep an eye on me and to make sure I got home safe.”

The only way you were gonna get through the night was if you got as wasted as possible.

Which is exactly what you ended up doing. 

When the clock chimed two, the raging headache you were developing from the blaring music convinced you to finally call it a night. You’d given it enough of a chance, enough experience to go home and state that partying simply wasn’t for you. 

But if you didn’t find the literal demon of a stepbrother and let him complete his end of the bargain, then maybe your mom wouldn’t believe you alone and force you to go to another. 

However, locating him turned out to be a much more difficult task than you’d thought. As you stumbled around the massive house, supporting your wobbly weight on the walls as you peeked into each of the rooms where some partygoers had migrated to, you soon dug your phone out of your jeans and dialled up his number. 

It was on the third attempted call that you finally stumbled into him. Sitting with a random blonde on his lap and the remnants of a mysterious white powder dusting the coffee table separating you from him. 

“There you are,” you grumbled, “I’ve been trying to call you!”

His expression turned sour as he noticed your presence, swiftly flipping his phone around as it layed on the table, though the caller ID that lit up the screen wasn’t of your name as your phone still buzzed in your palm to get through to him. Instead, it spelt out fleshlight in big bold letters. 

“So, you have,” he exhaled, “what do you want?” 

“I wanna go home,” you shoved your phone back in your pocket. 

“So, go home. What do you want my fucking permission? Are you that obsessed with me?”

“You have to take me home,” you reminded him, though when he began to laugh in your face, you shot back, “or you can just deal with your dad yourself when you get home. Your choice if you wanna keep being in his good graces or not.” 

That managed to shut him up. Though as he reluctantly pushed the blonde aside and got up from the couch, he muttered just loud enough for you to hear, “fucking prude,” like a curse on the wind just before he marched passed you and grabbed a hold of your arm to drag you with him. 

“Ow, Rafe, you’re hurting me!” you tried to tear yourself free of his grip. 

“Oh, shut up you baby, no I’m not. You wanna feel what does hurt?” his long fingers then dug further into your flesh and caused it to actually ache, “this.”

As he pushed open the front door, you whined, “ow, please stop,” but when he finally did, he only traded the grasp out with a light shove to your shoulder, directing you further towards his parked car. 

When you were planted in the passenger seat with your gaze firmly fixed out the window as the dark streets rolled by, you crossed your arms and mumbled, “I hate you…” gaining enough courage from the dizzying alcohol ravaging your system to utter it out loud. 

“What was that?” Rafe cast a glance in your direction.

Twisting your neck to glare back at him, you hesitantly repeated, “I hate you,” though the faint flicker of bravery you’d acquired was snuffed out as swiftly as it ignited when you saw the smirk that bloomed on your stepbrother’s features. 

“Aw, don’t tell me that, princess,” he chuckled, “you’ll just make me hard.” 

Eyes widening, they briefly fluttered down to the crotch of his trousers before you blinked away, a reaction that was evidently satisfying enough for Rafe to cause him to keep going. 

“But you probably wouldn’t know what to do with it anyway.”

“I know what to do,” you said defensively, though regretted your humouring him as soon as the words slipped out past your lips. 

“Oh yeah? Just how would you know that? Everyone knows you’re a fucking virgin,” something he was to blame for, though that wasn’t a fact you ever had to know. You didn’t have to be aware of just how many times he had stopped guys from asking you out, just because he wanted you all to himself, “but are you secretly a perv, sis? Is that how you think you know what to do?”

“Don’t call me that,” you cringed lightly. 

“What? A perv? Or sis? Don’t you wanna be reminded that you’re my stepsister?”

“Not particularly...”

As the car curved into the driveway to Tanny Hill, an offer suddenly rolled off Rafe’s tongue. 

“You know, I could help you. Pop that little cherry for you,” he shrugged as if he didn’t seem out of his mind for what he was brashly uttering, “you desperately need it, that fucking stick up your ass makes you such a bitch to be around. But no one is gonna wanna bang you, I mean, maybe you could be kinda hot if you weren’t such a fucking loser, if you didn’t dress like a fucking pogue, but I don’t think anyone would commit social suicide like that. So, I’ll take care of it. Fix that problem for the good of everyone else.” 

Your mouth hung agape as the vehicle rolled to a stop, the sudden shift made you fear that your latest drink would come up again. 

Utterly stunned, you couldn’t form a single word as you stared back at him. 

“I mean, it’s what you want, isn’t it?” he went on, turning in his seat to gaze over at you, already undressing you with his eyes, “haven’t you always had the hots for me?”

“I–…” it felt as if the car was swaying around even though it stood completely still, “…I drank way too much tonight, and I think you might have as well.”

“You’re drunk?” darkness glinted in his eyes, “well, I honestly don’t know if I should be impressed or run inside and wake everyone up so you can get grounded for fucking ever,” he laughed. 

“No!” you gasped, “You can’t tell them, please! I–…” you felt tears begin to sting the corners of your eyes and blur up your already hazy vision, “fuck!” 

Leaning even further back in his seat, he cocked his head, “I mean, I could also keep it a secret…” the tip of his tongue mischievously slipped out to poke his lip, “for the right price, that is.”

“Seriously?” you glared back at him, “are you serious right now?”

Capturing your hand, he swiftly brought it to the palpable tent in his pants, “do I not seem serious?” his eyes narrowed ever so slightly to a squint. 

Your lips parted in shock, stare flickering away from his eyes to spot how he ever so slightly pressed your palm down against him. 

He was so hard that you could nearly feel his pulse through the fabric of his trousers. 

“I mean, really I’d be helping you out,” your gaze stayed glued to how his broad hand engulfed your own a moment longer before you glanced up to find his unwavering stare once more, “so you should really thank me for both keeping your secret and doing you such a massive favour…”

As a shaky breath escaped your lungs, you whispered once more, “I hate you…”

But the proclamation only conjured a smile to appear on his lips, “tell me again,” and he leaned in a bit closer.

“I hate y–,” but you didn’t get the last bit out as Rafe then crashed his lips against yours.

It took a second for you to react with anything other than a surprised whimper, but when you did, it was slow and cautious compared to his boldness. 

A string of saliva strung you together as he eventually parted from you. Offering himself a small caress, he pressed your palm down against him one last time before he let you go. His breathing was heavy as he momentarily let his thumb trace your bottom lip, briefly slipping it crudely in your mouth, before uttering, “get inside.”  

Why, after all of this time, after all of the pain and torture he alone made you go through, why did he still have to give you butterflies the way that he did?

It was your room that he led you to, a hand ever rooted on you as you made the journey. At first, you thought it was because he saw the way you occasionally stumbled over your own feet, but perhaps it was just in case you wanted to make a run for it, just a precaution, a safety net already halfway over you. 

“Take your clothes off,” he commanded in a cold tone as he shut the door behind you. 

“W-what?” you turned to look back at him.

Sitting down on the edge of your bed, he repeated, “take your clothes off,” though they came out sounding slightly impatient. 

He palmed himself through his pants as you slowly began to strip. Though as you’d shyly peeled your t-shirt off and dropped it to the floor, his voice halted you just as you began to undo your jeans. 

“Stop,” his voice cut the thick air like a knife, “turn around when you pull those down,” you twisted away from him as your thumbs sank into either side of the waistband, “and do it slowly,” he made you put on a show, ogling as you gradually revealed the curve of your ass, “that’s it…” he nearly moaned as your pants crumbles to the floor, “bra and panties too, princess. Unless of course, you’re backing out of our deal already.”

Clenching your jaw, you squeezed your eyes shut and shed the rest, ignoring his soft wolf whistles and crude comments as you exposed yourself. 

Slowly turning back around to face him, your hands were clasped before you out of sheer timidness and not knowing what to do with them. 

“You gonna stand over there all night?” he raised his chin slightly.

When your feet stood rooted right before his seated position on the bed, your hands began to fiddle as he pulled his shirt over his head and caused your pulse to somehow beat even harder than it already did. 

One of his palms then scooped up your stomach and briefly grabbed one of your tits before scooping you closer, “come here,” and utilised his leverage to toss you down on the bed beside him, “let me get a good look at you.” 

Grabbing for the bedsheets as the mattress momentarily bounced beneath your spine, you blinked up at Rafe as he sat next to you, twisting his form and craning down to near your core. 

You tried to clamber your legs shut, embarrassed for what his cruel reaction might be, but he was not only faster, but stronger than you, and grabbed a hold of your thighs. As he split you apart, his lips curled up into a grin. 

“Look at you… fuck,” he let out a short chuckle, “this is gonna be fun.” 

A gasp curled out of your frame as he then grazed his thumb over your folds, smearing some of the mortifying wetness that seeped out and made you feel even more intoxicated than you already were. He lightly spread you apart and studied intently your dripping pussy, how it looked, how it glistened and how your little hole twitched when he lightly circled your clit. 

“Oh, you like this, don’t you?” he rubbed your puffy pearl with a mean lightness that caused your hips to buck slightly, “you like it when your big stepbrother touches you like this?” but when you didn’t reply, he reached down and grabbed your jaw, angling it for you to meet his eye, “answer me.”

“I–… y-yes,” you quietly admitted, feeling as if you were in some strange dream. 

“Of course you do, you dirty little girl,” he bent down again to gaze at your pussy a little too close for your taste, “I knew you were a slut since the moment I met you.”

Letting go of your face, he then snaked his free hand down to give himself an ounce of relief. 

“You know, part of me doesn’t even wanna prep you with my fingers first,” he smirked and let his fingertips sweep down to tickle your entrance, “I like the idea of not stretching you out first and letting my cock do all the work, let it feel just how tiny and pure you are for me.” 

“But isn’t that gonna hurt?” your breath caught in your throat. Sure, you’d played with yourself nearly till your hands fell off, but that idea still managed to scare you. 

“God, I hope so,” he groaned and briefly leaned down to press a hot kiss to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and sloppily making out with it. 

When he then stood up and pulled his pants down, your jaw nearly hit the floor as well when you saw how thick his dick was. Fat and veiny, curving proudly up towards his abs. 

Seizing your hips, Rafe yanked you closer to where he stood, nearly letting your ass dangle over the edge of the mattress.

“Wait,” you suddenly reached out to touch his forearm as he gave himself a few lavish strokes, staring down at your cunt, comparing the obscene size of him to your puff, “what about a condom?” you squeaked as he flicked his leaking tip down to tap your core. 

Sucking in a fierce breath through his nose, he glared down at you and shot back, “what about you shut the fuck up and just be grateful,” before he sent his open palm down to smack your pussy. 

“Ah! I’m sorry, I just–, fuck!” you shuttered beneath him as he soothed the slap with the nudge of his length, rubbing it against you and teasing your cunt before he started sweeping it through your folds, nearly fucking your soppy slit, the tip of him kissing your little pearl on each silky advance.  

A dollop of spit dropped from his lips and joined the mess he already tickled at between your parted legs. 

“It’s too big…” you murmured as you stared down at how his fat girth parted your pretty petals, though the observation only conjured a smile on Rafe’s lips, “maybe you could just put the tip in?” you tried through your foggy mind, “that would still count.”

A rumbling chuckle bubbled out of him as he stared down at the two of you together, “just the tip…” his movements then grew more erratic as he slid through your folds, “is that all you think your little virgin cunt can handle?” shy gasps escaped you every time he deliberately let his cock catch at your opening, “just the tip?” 

As he slowly pressed just the flush head of his length in to breach your entrance, your brows crinkled up at the mind-numbing stretch. 

“Like that, baby?” he only moved ever so slightly, “is that all you think you can handle?” and you nodded foggily in return. But as you let your eyes flutter shut and breathed through the staggeringly wonderful sensation, Rafe’s voice once again washed over you, “nah,” like a splash of cold water while you were licking up warm sun rays, “that’s not good enough. This is,” and he then slammed the entirety of his length into you.

Your eyes instantly shot back open and your legs curled up even further on either side of you at the shock. 

“What?” he cooed at you mockingly as he slowly dragged his dick back out for just the memory to remain, “does it hurt?”

You were a blubbering and cursing mess, trembling beneath him as your pussy tried to accommodate him.

“Come on, princess,” he bent down over you and let his nose ghost against yours, “tell me that it hurts.”

“It h-hurts,” you whimpered as his hot breath fanned across your blazing cheeks. 

It did sting, a lot, but though you hated to admit it, a part of you loved it, a part of you sank even further into the pit of pleasure he so slowly dunked you into. 

“Tell me that it’s too big for you,” he nuzzled his nose against yours as he plugged you back up. 

Your body shook beneath his every time he moved as much as a millimetre inside you, “i-it’s too big.” 

Letting out a low moan of satisfaction, he then leaned down to press his lips to yours, stealing your breath away even further. 

You tried, but couldn’t really focus on kissing him back, not that he seemed to mind much as he moaned into your mouth, soon letting his sloppy kisses dance over your cheek and down your neck, letting hickeys bloom in his wake and mark up your skin like a brand.

As he sucked down on the spot where your pulse went wild beneath the skin, his hips drove against yours harder, causing them to collide in a sticky smack, as well as letting the tip of him bully the deepest part of you. He didn’t just do it once, but kept it up as he enjoyed the little squeaks you let out every time he bumped against your cervix. 

Kissing his way back up to your lips, he only offered them the briefest of pecks before raising himself off of you, just ever so slightly, and one by one, grabbed your already wide-spread legs and rested each one of them onto his broad shoulders, efficiently folding you in half. 

“H-holy shit,” you panted as the mattress rippled beneath you at every one of his rough thrusts, “Rafe–”

“Yeah?” he smirked down at your melted form, the vein in his forehead popping from the strain, “are you gonna cum? Are you gonna cum on your big bro’s dick?” one of his hands swept up to squeeze your tit, then gave it a swift tap before growling, “come on, princess. I can feel you squeezing me so fucking tight. Do it, I fucking dare you. Be a good girl and cum on my cock.”

You almost screamed as you tumbled over the edge, your head curling to the side to hide yourself in the crumbled duvet beneath you as your pussy gushed all over his fat girth. 

“Oh, fuck,” Rafe croaked as he straightened back up to get a good view. Pulling out of you, he briefly flicked his dick through your folds to urge more of your nectar to leak out, before he slid it back inside and asked in amazement, “you ever squirted before?” 

Trembling from the overstimulation, your eyes rolled in your skull as you shakily mumbled, “maybe twice, I think.”

“Such a good fucking slut,” he growled proudly, “squirting all over me like a proper whore. Just look at you,” his grip dented your thighs as he pressed them further down against the bed, “you’re already a pretty little cockdrunk mess.”

“I–, I–,” you blubbered as you felt drool begin to trickle down your cheek. 

“Oh, fuck,” he then groaned, glancing down at where he split you apart, “hold your legs back,” he requested, though had to help your sluggish hands find their way, “look at this, baby,” he scooped a palm behind your head and ushered you to spot what he had noticed. Splaying a wide hand over the lower part of your stomach, he traced the faint bulge that rhythmically appeared, “sure as fuck not a virgin anymore, are you? Fucking ruining that perfect little pussy of yours. Now that’s how you pop a fucking cherry. Aren’t you happy I was in such a charitable mood tonight?” he then pressed down on the imprint rudely, the overwhelming sensation causing your pussy to drizzle a little more around him, “aren’t you, sis?”

“Yes,” you mewled, feeling as if you were floating on a cloud and not getting your guts rearranged. 

“You’d let me do anything I’d fucking want, wouldn’t you?” he smirked down at your dazed form. 

“Y-yes,” the word flowed out of you, though you couldn’t quite comprehend all of his dirty talk any longer. 

“Hold on,” he briefly slowed down and stretched over to reach a small apprentice obscured and hidden in all of the cluttered decor on your nearby dresser. Turning it in his hand, he pointed the discrete camera down to film you, “say it again,” he picked his pace back up, “tell me that you’ll let me do anything I want to you.”

“Anything,” the words bubbled out through your moans, “anything you want.” 

“Say that you’re my little slut.”

“I’m yours–, I-I’m your s-slut.”

Tilting the hidden camera down to get a few close-ups, his voice then seeped into you once more, “now tell me again that you hate me.” 

One of your hands fluttered down and began to rub your puffy clit.

“I hate you.”

“Again,” he reached down to give your left nipple a harsh pinch.

“I hate you.”

“Keep going, princess.” 

And the more times the phrase flowed out past your lips, the more it began to lose its meaning and morph into just another sound, one that was almost akin to the complete opposite kind of proclamation. 

Just like you barely noticed when Rafe dug out the hidden camera, so too did you miss it when he put it back down, obscured somewhere among your things, possibly not even the only one. 

When you came once again, Rafe didn’t so much as pause when you creamed around his cock and drenched the sheets beneath you that much further.

“There you fucking go,” he sent a palm down to smack the sensitive skin on your inner thigh, “god, you’re so hot. I can’t believe you actually let me do this,” he grinned as your fingers stretched out to graze his wild hips, trying and failing to slow him down, “you’re such a little freak,” he glanced down at the ring of your essence that marked the base of his throbbing cock, “so fucking nasty for your stepbrother. I bet you’d even let me keep using you after you fall asleep. I mean, who’s to say I haven’t already,” he chuckled, “you’re so fucking cute when you sleep. No annoying remarks, no dumb comments… I think I might prefer you that way…” his slamming grew sloppy as he soon moaned, “fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum.”

“Pull out,” you begged through your hazy pants. 

And just when you thought he wouldn’t respect your wishes, he yanked out and furiously stroked himself before your winking and wrecked hole as it slowly retraced from the severe stretch. Moaning loudly, he swiftly painted your pussy with his load, getting it all over your puffy petals till he was panting above you. One hand rested on your thigh as he brushed the sensitive head of his cock over the cream, messily tapping the hefty weight of him against your aching clit and making you jump a few times as he smeared it in. 

Throwing himself down on the bed beside you, he let out a long sigh and said, “you’re welcome.”

You felt like you couldn’t move, like you might never be able to move again. Your breath still came in ragged as the only thing you could focus on was the sore throbbing centred at your core, that blossomed out through the rest of your nerves. 

“Well,” Rafe huffed as he soon lifted himself up to a sitting position, “night,” and without another word, slipped out through your shared bathroom into his own bedroom. 

“I can’t believe they made you take me,” you grumbled as you watched Rafe shadow you in the clothing store, “I could have just gone to the mall on my own.”

“You don’t have a car though–, also, why are you the one complaining? I’m the one being forced to go fucking shopping with you of all people.”

Somehow, for some mysterious reason, since you’d moved into Tanny Hill, your collection of underwear had shrivelled down till you barely had enough to get you through the week. Guess that was the price you had to pay for letting someone else do your laundry, though you’d always assumed it would more just be a single sock that commonly vanished in the wash…

When you dipped into the fitting room to try a few of the gathered options on, you only managed to test out two of them before the curtain slid back open and you swiftly scrambled to cover yourself.

“Rafe!” you let out a hushed screech, “what do you think you’re–”

“Try these on,” he handed you a wide stack of hangers. It wasn’t just underwear dangling from them, but also some clothing, though all of it way too revealing than you were used to. 

Glancing down at them, you refused to grasp the items and simply stated in a clear tone, “no.” 

Letting out a low sigh, he then turned to close the curtain back up before he twisted back to face you, “do you need me to have a little talk with your mom and my dad?” he took a few steps towards you, slowly pushing you into the corner by the tall mirror.

Glaring back at him through your pout, you huffed, “no…” 

You stayed in the corner as he then hung the clothing up on the hooks before taking a seat on the small stool where your purse was resting before he swept it to the floor. 

“Are you just gonna sit there and watch?”

“Yeah,” he scoffed, “it’s boring as shit out there. At least in here, I might get a moderate amount of entertainment.”

Rolling your eyes, you reluctantly began to try the attire on. 

“I hate thongs,” you muttered as you tugged a pair into place over your hip, trying not to catch your stepbrother’s stare as his gaze wandered from your reflection to the perfect view he had of your backside. 

“I recall you hate a lot of things you still don’t hesitate to jump on.”

“Whatever,” you sighed, “you have your fun, enjoy this little fashion show, but I’m sure as hell not getting any of these.”

“Well, good,” he uttered demeaningly, “because I’m buying them for you.”

Catching his eye in the mirror, you told him, “I’m still not wearing them. You can’t make me.” 

“Yeah,” he puffed out a smirk, “we’ll see about that,” and then tore his gaze away from you to gesture to one of the hangers, “try that dress on, but keep the pink thong on underneath, only the thong though.” 

You had to shut your eyes in annoyance a moment before you fulfilled his request, soon standing before him in a scantily cut, pastel mini dress, crafted in a fabric so thin that you could see the faint shadow of your nipples poking through them, especially after they’d turned all pebbly after Rafe had torn that privacy curtain to the side. 

“You happy now?” you turned to face him and propped your hands on either side of your hips. 

“Hm,” he cockily pursed his lips as his gaze studied you, “I was right…”

Your brows stayed furrowed till you watched his palm slide down to squeeze himself through his shorts. 

“What are you doing?” you hissed, eyes growing wide. 

“You do look hot in normal clothes.”

“I don’t think any of this is normal…”

“I think it’s time you learned how to suck a cock,” he suddenly announced, eyes still glued to the dress’ low neckline as he unzipped his slacks. 

“Rafe…” you breathed. 

His eyes flickered up to find yours, “get on your knees,” he tilted his head, “come on, princess. You’ll love it, trust me.” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[kissedsuns]

LOVESICK, LANDO NORRIS

cw: SMUT, slapping, enemies to lovers, degradation

max, lando, and you sit on the worn leather couch in the press conference room. the dim lights cast a soft glow over you all, and the room is filled with the buzz of journalists eager for answers. they fire questions at you rapidly, eager to dissect every detail of the race.

earlier, you and lando had a bad crash at turn 11, and with the tension between you two, this incident has just pushed you both to the brink.

as you sit there, cameras trained on you, you notice lando throwing dirty looks your way, and you catch yourself doing the same. anger churns inside you, and you bite the inside of your cheek, while also trying to calm down by twirling a strand of your hair around your finger.

then, a journalist asks directly, "so, lando, who do you really think was at fault with, uh, the crash at turn 11?" the room goes silent, everyone waiting for his answer. your heart races as you look at lando, who’s already got this mischievous glint in his eye.

"well, i think it's pretty clear that the blame lies with the other driver," lando begins, his gaze fixed intently on you. "i had a clean pass down the straight, and then someone swerved right into my line, cutting me off completely. i honestly have no idea what they were thinking." he shrugs, his expression hard as he shoots another pointed look, making his frustration evident without even needing to say a name.

"maybe they should have their driving license taken away," he adds with a snarky edge to his voice, and when his head snaps in your direction, you fucking lose it.

once those words left his lips, you were more than ready to throw a punch right then and there. obviously, you didn't, but the look in your eyes was enough to show it.

your anger flared even more when his lips curled into a smirk, clearly enjoying this frustrating banter.

"can i also add to this?" you urgently try to wave the journalist over, and only did you just notice that max seems to be finding the whole situation far too amusing for some press conference as he sits back with a sly grin.

"i think that if it wasn’t for a certain someones terrible driving, we could have made it through with no damage to the car." you scoff, glancing in his direction with a smirk.

"i mean, let's be honest, i’m quite happy with p2, and i guess i’ll have to be the bigger person in this situation and not make any stupid comments about a license being revoked." you then drop the mic from your mouth, shooting him another dirty glare as the journalist, along with all the others in the room, eagerly takes notes.

"oh, well, i’m just expressing my opinion, and if the other driver can't handle that, maybe they shouldn't be racing in the first place," lando says with a shrug and a self-righteous look on his face, knowing his comments are getting under your skin.

"and as far as being happy with p2, i think anyone with eyes can see that you should be happy with p2 because you clearly aren't good enough for more than that."

"oh, you little—" you couldn't take it anymore. you wanted nothing more than to punch him square in the face. but before you could say anything else, max interrupts. "alright, alright, i think that’s enough questions. thank you very much, everyone."

max quickly yanks the microphone from both your hands, ushering you off the couch and out of the conference room. you were about to protest, but it was too late. somehow, you were already outside.

max had gone off somewhere, leaving you and lando stranded in the empty hallway.

on your left was the mclaren team hub, but obviously, you didn’t want to be anywhere near anything mclaren-related.

"you’re hilarious, you know that?" you glare at him, your eyes almost twitching with rage.

"and you're a spoiled little brat, you know that?" lando shoots back without missing a beat.

he leans back against the wall, a cocky smirk on his lips, casually surveying you from head to toe. he thought you were so hot when you were mad, but for now, his focus was more on riling you up even more, something you were growing incredibly sick of.

"god, if it wasn’t for max back there," you say, taking one step closer towards him, your index finger pressing against the centre of his chest. "my fist would’ve been in between your teeth."

the tension in the room is palpable, and the look on your face is full of pure anger. yet he stands there with that stupid look on his face, as if to tell you that he didn’t care in the slightest.

he chuckles as you poke his chest with your finger, glancing down at your hand and then back up at you.

he then takes hold of your hand, preventing you from pulling away. "oh, come on, is that the best you've got?" he scoffs, leaning in closer with a smirk, and you can tell he’s having far too much fun with this whole situation.

"go on, hit me," he taunts "hit me, you little brat."

suddenly, the person in front of you didn't seem like lando norris anymore. this wasn't the frustrating, rude, and arrogant lando norris who would shove past you in the paddock, purposefully bumping your shoulder and laughing as he walked off.

this wasn't the lando norris who would send you menacing stares whenever you passed his garage, or who would roll his eyes whenever you opened your mouth to speak during a post-race interview.

whoever this was, standing in front of you with that irritating grin, certainly didn't seem like the same lando norris you were used to.

your palm strikes his cheek without even thinking twice. the silent corridor echoes with the sound of the slap, and you can see his head instantly jerk to the side, revealing the fresh, red imprint of your hand on his left cheek.

realising what you've just done, you slowly retract your hand from his face, your fingers trembling slightly. a gasp escapes your lips, and you’re quick to cover your mouth with your palm, eyes wide with shock.

"oh, shit," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

"oh, did that feel good?" he asked, grabbing your chin and tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "did that make you feel like you won? because let's be real, you never win anything."

"you’re one to talk," you sneer, pulling his hand away from your chin. "you’ve been in formula one for years and still can't reach the top step," you say with disdain, your frown morphing into a shit-eating grin. "if anything, i’ve always been ahead of you. in everything."

he chuckles at your taunt and shakes his head slowly. "oh, really? you think you're ahead of me?"

then, lando’s hand slips forward, grabbing at your hip instead of your chin. he pulls you close to him, your faces now mere inches apart.

"in what? the number of mistakes you've made this season?" he retorts, a smirk playing on his lips. "because you're definitely ahead of me in that category."

you feel the urge to bite down on the inside of your mouth again, the sharp pain serving as a reminder to control your words and actions, in case you catch yourself doing or saying something you’ll regret.

"you make me sick," you spit, your voice laced with disgust.

"aw, poor thing," he mocks, while his thumb continues its gentle caress on your hip.

he observes how you almost melt at his touch, your body responding to him in ways you can't control.

with a deliberate move, his free hand glides to the nape of your neck, fingers tracing along the sensitive skin before gently pulling your face closer to his.

there’s a moment of silence, just the two of you staring at each other so intensely it's like you're communicating without words.

suddenly, almost on cue, you both lean in, and your lips meet in this forceful, aggressive kiss. like all the frustration you've been harbouring has been poured into that one moment.

in an attempt to explore every inch of your body, lando draws you in closer, pressing himself against you and nibbling harshly on your lower lip, before slipping his tongue into your mouth.

you press his body firmly against the wall with a sense of urgency. a few soft moans escape your lips, and your fingers manage to find their way into lando’s hair, gripping onto his curls and tugging gently.

your ears pick up on a faint whine that escapes his lips in response, only fueling your desire as you pull a little harder.

he follows by biting down on your bottom lip, before grabbing your ass and raising you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he spins around and pushes you against the wall.

growing more exhausted by the second, you force your swollen lips apart while your chest heaves with every breath, almost gasping for air.

with a little tremble from anticipation, you pry your hands out of lando’s curls, allowing your fingertips to trail over his shoulders.

you shiver as he presses light kisses along your jawline, enjoying the warmth of your skin before biting down gently on your neck. as he draws you in closer, his hand still firmly holding your ass, he tilts your head up to reveal more of your neck with his other hand, eager to feel every inch of your skin.

in mere seconds, your lips meet again, the kiss more sloppy and less controlled this time. like animals, you cling to each other tighter as you maneuver out of the corridor and into his team hub.

it’s a place where you aren’t particularly welcome, but right now, you couldn’t give a flying fuck.

lando stumbles his way into the lounge of the team hub, his lips refusing to leave yours.

everything else seems to fade into the background as he struggles to focus, his mind has gone foggy at the sensation of your body pressed against his.

finally reaching his private room, he gently lays you down on your back, climbing on top of you with the support of his trusty sofa the mclaren team installed for him.

no one would have anticipated lando would be using it for this particular purpose, which is making out with his rival, but hey, atleast it’s getting its money’s worth.

after a few moans and whines later, both of you eventually grew tired, your energy spent. lando and you reluctantly pulled your shaking bodies apart, slick with sweat and adorned with scratches you lacked the strength to point out.

you both lay there, catching your breath, the silence only being broken by the sound of your heavy breathing and the faint rustle of the couch beside you.

lando sits up on the couch, leaning back against it, his head spinning from what had just happened. raking a hand through his thick hair, he panted slightly, trying to calm his racing heart.

"that was.." lando let out a breath, his words trailing off as he tried to find the right word. he shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "wow."

you muster a laugh at his attempt to express himself. “didn’t think you were my type,” you tease, a playful glint in your eyes.

propping yourself up beside him, you run your finger along the outline of his abs, admiring his frustratingly flawless body. the sight of him leaves you practically drooling.

lando gives a casual shrug, his hand reaching out to pull you closer by the waist. "i’m everyone's type," he teases, a confident smirk gracing his lips. "you should've given in sooner,"

you roll your eyes and stand up from the couch. “i liked you better when you were needy,” you say with a scoff, scrambling to search for your clothes that have been tossed aside and scattered around the room.

"i was not needy," he insists, rising from the sofa as he goes to playfully nip at the skin on your neck.

you toss his mclaren shirt, and it lands on his bare chest with a soft thud. “sure you weren’t, needy norris,” you quip, a playful smirk dancing on your lips.

"oh, you're just so funny, aren’t you?" he teases back, rolling his eyes in a playful manner as he throws the shirt over his head.

once you’re both completely dressed, lando carefully opens the door and steps out of the room, waiting for you to follow suit.

"maybe next time we can do it in my driver’s room? you know, just for a change."

"sure, baby."

eventually, you two part ways, and lando decides to head down and hang out at one of the garages with a few other drivers.

as lando makes his way over to oscar, george and carlos, he becomes gradually aware of something.

it could have been the strange gestures they were doing, like thrusting the air and making absurdly high-pitched moans, or the fact that they all burst out laughing and cheering as soon as they saw lando approaching.

"holy shit, you weren't kidding," george exclaims, his eyes widening in disbelief. his smile widens when he points to the unmistakable handprint on lando’s cheek, as well as the numerous hickeys adorning his neck and collarbone.

yeah, lando had a feeling that he should’ve buttoned up his shirt before leaving the room. as for the handprint, well, you probably had it a lot worse given how many times lando had spanked and slapped you when he claimed you were ‘misbehaving’.

lando tugs at the top of his shirt, attempting to hide the hickeys. "it's not- i didn't-" he splutters, making an effort to protest but he knows deep down that there's no use.

he lets out a huff before storming off. "whatever, idiots."

it just so happened that on his way to change out of his race gear, oscar had walked right by lando’s driver's room. he did his bit before hurrying down to meet with the other drivers, doing his best to ignore the loud and disturbing noises coming from behind that door.

let’s just say that when max and daniel pulled you aside and almost begged you to explain to them why you had a bright red handprint on your face, you weren't exactly having the time of your life either.

looks like you’ll definitely have to be using your driver’s room next time.

© kissedsuns

[izfims]

sugarcoat — yu jimin

synopsis: as a way to fix her image, jimin's team decides to host an event where one lucky fan gets to go on a date with the idol to show the world that she's a good person. since y/n's younger sister happens to be one of her biggest fans but unfortunately falls under the age limit, she decides to sign her older sibling up instead. there's no way she actually gets chosen.. right?

genre: smau + written, humor, idol x non idol, fluff, sprinkle of angst, reader wants nothing to do with jimin, jimin just wants to get this over with, forced proximity trope, the TENSION!!!

pairings: idol!yu jimin x fem!reader ft. le sserafim, aespa, & other idols

warnings: they are subject to change throughout the story because this is episodic, mentions of violence, profanity, kys/kms jokes

status: ongoing! updates will be whenever i feel like posting

notes: this is a work of pure fiction and the people involved are in no way connected to how they are in real life. if you want to be added to the taglist pls just ask. also ignore the time stamps n any other errors — enjoy :)

PROFILES!

get yn a gf | kwangays

CHAPTERS!

001. the incident

002. still my #2

003. date with a psycho

004. speak now

005. see you soon

006. free clout opportunity

007. enemies to lovers arc

008. beef with an idol

009. on thin ice

010. woman of the hour (written)

011. smile at the camera

012. disrespect yn day

013. blame it on the wind

014. i’m sorry (written)

015. don’t ghost

016. smiley face thumbs up

017. congratulations

018. solid pickup line

019. stop cockblocking

020. there it is

more to come…!

TAG LIST! (CLOSED)

@yoontoonwhs @imahallucination11 @slayc9 @nasyu-kookies @leyleypad @mightymyo @runawaymazola @jimanie @awkwardtoafault @limbforalimb @channiesprincess @neuftaeng @i06kkura @lesleepyyy @sewiouslyz @irishbarcafan @winieter @pandafuriosa60 @jiwoneiric @yumtooki @kimsgayness @justme-idle @tocupid @chaerybae

© izfims 2023

[ganondoodle]

(totk rewritten)

finally, all the arm and spirit abilities- for the first half of the game (rauru) and for the second half with the shiekah arm replacing links arms instead and the spirit abilities gained through ganondorf

(please excuse my handwriting and sometimes repeated info on the first two, i lost motivation/patience at the end and couldnt get myself to basically redo it all from scratch just to make it a bit more cleaner)

note, the camera rune is unconnected to the arm, its the shiekah stone copy link has (zelda carries the one from botw, a copy was attempted to be made for link but it lacks all runes except the camera, the map and its teleportation, and journal/archive)

note for the heal effects of some spirit abilities- im also reworking the healing system, making it more like the older games, so healing isnt as easy and much more restricted, thus making those effects of spirit abilities more valuable ( lil potion icon on the d pad will act a little bit like in skyward sword, opens your limited selection of healing items and if chosen link switches to holding it and letting you consume it with -a- while walking around in real time- to avoid more pausing and mass healing on regular items while in menu)

additional note, the automatic recharging of the magic meter depending on the environment gives you a reliable but less abusable way of using abilities and allows for even more creative dungeon/challenge design by using it effectively- it works by absorbing magic from its surroundings, so if its an area with little magic it recharges slower, if its a very spiritual or healthy place it will recharge faster, it can be used to make things more challenging and also as subtle storytelling (example, theres a graveyard with the magic energy around being off the charts, even if there are no spirits to see, it could hint at the people buried not having died peacefully, no matter what their gravestone says...)

the usage of magic and how much the different abilities cost also allows for a much more dynamic fighting style for players to choose and try out, balancing them all out with their cost instead of a fixed timer, and the recharging beign affected by the environment perhaps forcing players that favor high cost magic abilities to use the lower cost ones for example, or not being able to charge one up bc the enemy is too fast and doesnt give you enough time to charge it

about half of the small overworld dungeons (not shrines) are also locked/inaccessible for the first half and new quests appear as the second half commences- together with the additional changes raurus return brings with it (sonau buildings, enemies being mostly cosntructs that he summoned etc) and whole set of new abilities giving you a fresh new way to play while (hopefully) not making you feel too restricted for the first half

... making these detailed concepts took me longer than id like to admit q-q

[soobjvn]

SPOTLIGHT ✴︎ lee heeseung

IN WHICH lee heeseung and yn are both accepted as ambassadors of the same brand, causing them to spend more time together than yn would’ve wanted. luckily for heeseung, he’d been waiting for this opportunity.

✴︎ THEMES — smau (with occasionally written portions) , idol!heeseung x fem!/soloist!yn , enemies(ish) to lovers , fluff , humor (hopefully) .

✴︎ MAIN CAST — enha , karina (aespa) , yeji (itzy) , keeho (p1h) , & soobin (txt) .

✴︎ STATUS — ongoing !

✴︎ TABLE OF CONTENTS

001. cut the cameras

002. morning princess 😘

003. tough luck bud

004. did i cook

005. friends? acquaintances?

006. miss me already? 😉

007. it’s a date.

& more to come !

✴︎ TAGLIST ( open ! ) — @seunghancore @sngleehee @jakeyverse @llvrhee @sakanelli-afc @sincerelyrki @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @darlingz99 @enhaslxt @iheartjayke @jiyeons-closet @jiawji (bold could not be tagged.)

— please use my asks / comment here to be added !

✴︎ A/N — oooh i’m excited for this one ngl yawl 🌚… rlly got me on my fanfic writing grind. also!! this story’s kinda inspired by “fashion killa” by asap; i was listening to it like “mm yeah… this is heeseung.” ok ok, i hope u enjoy mwah :* (ps. let’s not talk about how this layout is drastically different from tulips… i didn’t know how tumblr worked back then guys i was a noob </3. ill fix it at some point… maybe…)

— soobjvn 𐙚⊹

[justkending]

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 5/7)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader (Enemies to Lovers) (Fake Marriage Trope)

A/N: I think we are staying on track for this to wrap up within two more chapters, but again, we are both in the dark if that's the case😂 Thank you guys for the love! If you are wanting to be tagged, please send me an ask. It's a lot easier for me to keep track of who's been added and who hasn't :)

_________

Y/N’s POV:

Okay, so maybe I blew up a little more than necessary, but I tried to chill out before he started chasing me, ordering that I didn’t walk away and talk to him. Let a girl try to get a hold of her emotions for a second big guy.

I’ve been anxious all day, waiting to talk to him about some deep seeded trauma, and then he comes and screws up all of it with a simple exception to an invitation. I know he didn’t mean harm by it, but he’s a trained professional. That was not a trained professional response. Plus, stepping out of my normal routine of being a bitch to him to keep him at a distance wasn’t just a switch I could flip.

Again, I could have handled that better, but now my brain is in mission mode, trying to reprogram what this night has set up for us. Considering the invitation was for tonight, it gave me little to no time to prepare.

“What time did she say dinner was?” I shouted from my bedroom, where I was going through our small, hidden arsenal of gadgets Tony had made for us.

“Six,” Bucky replied from his room down the hall.

Great, that was forty-five minutes from now… “Ok, I can do this.” Deciding it was best to keep some bugs on hand in case we could plant them in the house, and we would be planting them, I needed to consider sizes and placements.

“Should we bring over some wine or something?” Bucky’s voice was now in the doorway to my room, but I kept my back to him as I sifted through our tools.

“I made a pie earlier today. We can take that,” I answered absentmindedly.

“Why’d you make a pie?”

“Felt like it,” I shrugged and walked out of the closet with three small wires/ bugs in hand. When I looked up, I saw he had changed into a nicer button-up and was tightening a tie around his collar he hadn't been wearing earlier. “Why are you wearing a tie?” I examined him.

“Same reason you’re wearing a nicer dress. I want to make a good impression,” he shrugged, straightening pieces of his outfit.

“I’m wearing this because we were going to our ‘anniversary dinner,’” I made sure to put the lie in hand quotes. “I had a story that went with it, but this can pass as casual, too,” I motioned to my dress and moved toward him, placing the wires on the bed. “This looks like you’re about to give a sales pitch.”

Without thinking, I pop his collar up and loosen the tie to get rid of it. The whole time I’m focusing on untying it, I ramble about what the plan is for the night.

“I’m going to give you a wire to put wherever you see fit, and I’ll do the other two. I’ll excuse myself to use the bathroom and sneak it where it’s needed. I feel it’s important we look for cameras already in the house in case it’s a setup. We don’t need them having hard proof that we bugged their place. We want to come off as simple yet good assets if we want them to bring us on board for their work,” I struggle with a certain spot on the tie he somehow fixed in an efficient way I’d never seen. “Jesus, were you a sailor in another life? Might as well have knotted it.”

He doesn’t respond, but I get it off in the next two seconds and look at him to see he had been studying me intently as I invaded his space. I see my slip-up, push the tie into his chest, and take a step back.

“Sorry.”

“No problem,” he answers rather calmly, and I look at his eyes, seeing patience there. Always that damn patience. How did he still have it with me even with how I’ve treated him? “Listen-”

“About last night,” I say at the same time, and he seems shocked but gives a single nod to tell me to continue. “I want to say I’m sorry for being all over the place recently. From last night to thirty minutes ago.”

He seems frozen by my apology, and I became anxious enough that I start to word vomit.

“I took some time to think after last night and spent the day stressing, thinking how I was going to talk to you about it because I do want to. I want to get what I can out on the table if you’d be ok with that,” I look up through my lashes, and I see the most subtle turn of his lip as he watches me attentively.

“Are you hinting that there’s a chance I’ll get to see the side of you others are lucky enough to see?” he retorts, grin growing and taking a step closer to me.

His use of the word ‘lucky’ shortcircuits my brain, and all I can do is nod once, slowly, as my answer. He takes another step, and I match it with one back. I feel more vulnrable than I was expecting to.

“You can understand now why having our plans for the night changed made me slightly temperamental.”

“I think slightly may be an understatement.”

“I think you still should choose your words carefully,” I say, tightening my smile. However, it doesn’t shut him down like normal. Instead, he laughs under his breath, and the doorbell rings.

Both of our heads shoot toward the noise, and solemnity takes over the room.

“You don’t think that’s,” Bucky pauses as he turns back to me.

“How often am I wrong?” I take a deep breath in and smooth my dress out as I walk over, pausing beside him. “Hide the wires. I already did a sweep of the house while you were getting ready to make sure we didn’t have anything out of place. I’ll tell them you’re getting ready.”

I don’t need to open the door to know who it is, but when I do, the urge to yell, “I told you so!” in Bucky’s face is strong.

“Bethanne!” I smile kindly and immediately notice the dish in her hand. Reggie is behind her, holding two others, looking like he just got off work and had been dragged over here. “Did Beau tell me wrong? Are we not eating at y’all’s house tonight?”

She scrunches her face in a practiced motion and lifts the ceramic bowl up as she explains.

“I hate to ask this of you, but our oven is still the old rickety one. The new one had some faulty design, and we had to ship it back. Needless to say, it decided to give out on us today of all days,” she raised her shoulders. “I know we sprung the dinner on you suddenly, but would you two be willing to host if we provide the food?”

Not on the money of what I guessed, but pretty fucking close to the money if you ask me.

“Who is it, Doll?” Bucky’s voice carries from the hallway he’s now emerging from. The first three buttons on his dress shirt are undone, and he’s messing with the cuffs on the sleeves. “Hey, Bauers,” he smiles yet still holds shock in his features by the neighbor's appearance. “Did we get the time wrong?” he asks, looking at his watch before coming to my side, where I've now moved and am letting themselves in.

“No, no, no,” Bethanne shakes her head and hands off one of the pots to me as she takes one from Reggie, who looks more bothered to be here than happy. Long day human trafficking, asshole? “We had some appliance issues thanks to some of the renovations we were doing. I was just asking your wife if we can use your house as tonight's setting and possibly use your oven while here.”

Without hesitance, Bucky takes the dish from my hands and the dish Bethanne had swapped for and nods for Reggie to follow him.

“No problem at all. Let me help you ladies with that. Char," A nickname he had never used for my character before, but it seemed to work fluently. "Would you like to get some wine for the two of you while I get this organized in the kitchen?” he asks me, placing a kiss on the side of my head while his hands are full as he walks towards the other room.

I don’t know how he’s learned to play his role so well, but it’s convincing, even to me.

“Uh, yeah,” I almost stutter in my response as I motion for Bethanne to follow me to the wine cooler out in the garage. “Red or white with tonight's dish?”

"Do you have any more husbands like that in the back I can steal? What a gentleman," she coos, shoulder-bumping me.

___________

Half an hour of baking the food and getting it plated, and our conversation continued with questions mostly strictly about us, which would have been fine if not for the reason behind such invasive intentions.

They started off simple. How’d you guys meet? Who made the first move? What did we love about the town so far? What kind of hobbies and adventures did we take on before moving here? All questions we had prepared for, and if not, could easily improvise.

So far. No slip-ups. If anything, we sold the scheme far better than I’d imagined we would even when they became more personal. And our discussion on being the ‘prude couple’ last night seemed to affect Bucky’s actions a lot more than I was expecting.

An obvious hand on my thigh under the table and an arm thrown over my seat in a slightly possessive manner seemed to catch the eye of Reggie, who mimicked some of the moves as if it were a competition.

In addition, Bucky kept making small compliments about how I looked and how smart I was when they asked about my job. Dropping little comments about things I did (not my character) that he loved and appreciated.

“She’s always doing things like that. I almost never have to worry about making coffee in the morning because she has it all set up just to hit a button and go.”

“You should ask Charlotte about that! She’s the reason our house looks like a home. I’m sure she could give some advice on the kitchen backsplash.”

“She may not know how to boil an egg correctly, but her baking skills are unmatched. I've put on a few pounds now that we have a nice kitchen to spend time in."

I did my best not to act shocked every time he dropped a compliment, but the fact he could have made shit up for my character and used those details as conversation pieces, yet he went the honest way (although more convincing, of course), shocked me.

“Speaking of baking skills,” Reggie nodded his head back to the kitchen counter behind us and smiled at me. “I spied a pie on the counter. Any chance we can have that to finish off this dinner?”

I was still staring at Bucky from his last form of appreciation when I blinked out of my distraction and returned to our neighbor.

“Oh, of course! I was just about to offer,” I smiled, standing up, and Bucky quickly stood next to me, pulling my chair out. “Thank you.” I smiled at him and placed a hand on his arm as I moved around to the counter.

“How sweet. Oh, Charlotte, would you mind telling me where the bathroom is?” Bethanne asked, standing and giving her husband a look for not showing the same chivalry as Bucky.

I watched her, knowing that I would have used the same excuse to do what we planned to at their house. But I was two steps ahead of her.

“Of course! Beau, do me a favor and get some plates out for dessert. I’m going to show Beth-”

“Oh, I’m sure I can find it,” she waved off, coming around the table and moving to the hall promptly.

Yeah… Not without a chauffeur, honey.

“No problem,” I waved off, moving with her casually. “I need to grab some floss from my bathroom before dessert. I’ll show you to it.”

I can see the most subtle glaze of annoyance at my insistence, but she smiles and walks a step ahead of me.

I show her to the bathroom and make it seem I’m going into the master down the hall while she’s in there. And I do, but I keep an eye to make sure she isn’t snooping in any other room besides the one. We’ll have to survey it after they leave, but better that and the dining room than the whole house.

Once we’re back with the boys, no wandering to be done, Bucky helps me plate a slice of chocolate pie for each of us, and I offer to move the conversation to the porch. Any kind of redirection from the comfort of the inside of our home is welcome.

“I love how you’ve decorated your porch. It’s so cozy,” Bethanne notices, pointing out the colorful decorative pillows, hanging swing the size of a daybed, and loads of plants and decor that make the space more intimate. She and Reggie are sat on the two rocking chairs facing the front yard, and Bucky and I are sat close together on the swing, where he’s controlling the tempo we sway in.

“I always wanted a spot outside to escape. We didn’t really have that at our last home, and it was important for me to have this time around,” I replied.

My answer is actually very true. I loved being outside, especially when it was something as simple as sitting in the backyard or swinging on a porch. I had one requirement about this mission, one I’m not even sure Bucky knew about. But I asked Tony to supply a nice budget for the porch.

Call it cheesy, but growing up in such an unnatural and dehumanizing way, you crave a small part of that normalcy you see on the movie screens. For some reason, a porch I could escape on but still be within the comfort of my own home was a dream. And because it was, I thought I’d make this situation a little more bearable by granting that small wish I always had.

“Well, I may have to start budgeting for a new kind of renovation,” she patted Reggie’s back, and he gave her a tight-lip smile. "What do you say, Reg? Do you think we can get a swing like that one?” She smiled over at us just as Bucky pulled me into his side, his arm going around my waist and his hand resting on my hip bone.

“I have a feeling we might as well have built a home from scratch by the time you’re happy with the renovations we’ve taken on,” Reggie answered with a nod before taking a swig from his beer. “Get that recipe for the pie from Charlotte, and I’ll consider buying you a new porch,” he winked my way and turned back to the front of our lawn.

I instantly found Bucky’s hand tightening, and his thumb started rubbing in an up-and-down pattern along my hip. When I turned to him slightly, his gaze stayed on Reggie.

Before finishing cleaning up for the night, we said goodbye to our guests, and just when we thought we hadn’t made any headway in our conversation about work (mind you, we had dropped hints and notices about it all night, but neither of the two seemed to take the bait), Reggie stopped on the last step to our porch and turned to Bucky.

“You mentioned working in transportation, and by the sounds of your new job up here, if you’re interested in a more innovative place, I may have some ins for you,” he shook Bucky’s hand. “I have some coworkers around the states that could use some employees like you on their route.”

“I may take you up on that offer. It all depends on how this week rolls out,” Bucky answered perfectly. The Bauers said their goodbyes, and we watched them walk home before turning to each other.

In a silent celebration, we grinned at the invitation and then sent wordless glances to tread carefully when we got in before scoping the place for bugs…

_______________

Bucky’s POV:

I’m not surprised that the blonde sole cycle instructor of a neighbor was able to get a wire in our bathroom, but neither Y/N nor I were in the mood to remove it right away and give away our knowledge of it, so we each grabbed another drink for the night and debriefed subtly on the porch where the only bugs we had to mind were the crickets chirping their music for the night.

Bethanne was right. Our porch was nicely done, and I hadn’t even noticed Y/N had hung lights out here until she plugged them in.

“I feel like this spot is more put together than the rest of the house.” I noticed the details when we were out here earlier. Now, we both have taken up spots in the rocking chairs our neighbors had vacated.

“I may have focused more of my attention on this spot than the others,” she smiled as she brought a tumbler glass up to her lips. She had drank wine while Bethanne was here, but as soon as they were gone, the whiskey I had made a glass for myself was stolen out of my hand before I could take a sip. Now, we had each of our own.

“Was what you said about the porch a real thing? I mean, we have balconies at the compound,” I looked at her as I sat my drink on the small table between us.

“Balconies and porches aren’t the same. At least in my head, they aren’t,” she nodded, taking a deep sigh and resting her glass in her lap. “Did you mean what you said when you were complimenting me all night?” She lulled her head to the side to look at me.

I had been making compliments. It felt easier to use the ones I had picked up on than the ones I made up. Yet again, I think anyone should get the recognition they deserve when they excel in something. Y/N just tended to excel in more than I think she was aware of. And I was learning she didn’t seem to be used to people taking note of those things.

“Why lie?” I shrugged, starting to rock in a steady pattern.

“Because that’s this whole gig. A lie,” she answered, taking another pull of the hard liquor.

I considered her perspective and shook my head, looking out to the lights on the other side of the street. “I guess it gets tiring at points. Don’t really feel like doing it if the truth can be just as usable.”

She didn’t answer for quite a few seconds, and when I turned back to her, she was staring at me like she was waiting for another shoe to drop.

“How are you so patient? Seriously, is it a drug Tony made you before you had to deal with me on this mission? I don’t get it,” she laughs, but I can hear the genuine confusion in it as she sits forward and turns her body to me.

Honesty. I’m in a mood to be 100% honest.

“Want me to be real with you?” I asked, turning my own body.

“It’d be preferred,” she nods and rests both her arms on the armrest.

“I don’t know anything about your past, but I know most people have a reason for acting the way they do. It took years and a ton of patience before I felt like I was even close to who I used to be. I still struggle to come to terms with the fact I’ll never be who I was before the train incident,” I sigh and rest my head back against the chair as I look at her. “I guess I have understanding more than patience. I understand that you have a history of your own that I don’t know, and I can’t blame you for a lot of the things you do.”

“But you should. I’m an asshole to you,” she says, and the admission is kinda nice to hear, even if it is sad.

“Yeah, and I was hoping you’d be willing to share why that is,” I reply calmly.

She tenses some and sits back in her chair, pulling her legs under her to sit crisscrossed, the chair rocking with her movement and her dress overflowing past her knees.

“I guess now is as good a time as ever…” She looked at me sidelong before finding comfort in the view in front of her instead. “I didn’t really have a chance to develop a personality of my own because of my time in this lifestyle,” she motions around her, “started as soon as I could walk. So I had no identity to fall back on since I had to find it after I escaped.”

I had questions, but I found it best just to listen. Clearly, what she was talking about wasn’t something she brought up lightly, and being an ear to listen was what she needed right now.

“I was left behind by whichever no-good parent gave me up, and Adonis Hummel took me as his own and decided he’d try to recreate the famous assassin, The Winter Solider, from birth practically.”

The name drop came quickly and struck home. I didn’t know her whole story, but I had enough imagination and experience to believe where she was going.

“Wait, Hummel?” I started because the name sounded familiar, but…

“He was a low-level scientist who worked for Hydra when they were still using you under Pierce. He thought he had the brains and resources to create his own version of you. A version that would be more undetectable as a woman and a version he could tweak however he wanted,” she rolled her shoulders. “Lucky for him, I didn’t have to be brainwashed since I knew nothing besides the life of abuse, experimentation, and a shit ton of conditioning... " 

"To clarify, I say that for context, not sympathy,” she straightened, and I could see her shifting back to her unbothered disposition, but the truth was shining through the cracks. She may not have wanted sympathy, but something about the vulnerability seemed to lighten the load on her shoulders.

“As for why I may have built a wall around you, an unhealthy and senile wall, I felt as though…” She gulped as if the next part was harder for her to say than the abuse of her past. “I felt as though you had been my competition my whole life, and a part of me, a young and in-need-of-therapy part of me, thought it was best to keep you as far away as possible and hold onto that anger instead of work through it. It felt easier than facing the fear that I didn’t actually equate to you in any way. So that’s another reason why I felt everything with you was to prove a point.” She lets out a short breath after using all the air in her lungs in one swift swoop.

I-

It’s a lot to take in…

She doesn’t move her head back towards me after her confession, and I can’t seem to break my stare from her.

“This is where you say something like, ‘Well, it’s your lucky day. I’m actually an asshole either way, so we can go on hating each other for completely understandable reasons!’ or I don’t know? Anything but silence would be preferred, though…”

Her hand is gripping the arm rest unconsciously like an anchor keeping her on earth.

On instinct, I reach across and pull her hand into mine, keeping my stare heavy, enticing her to look at me.

She closes her eyes at first and takes another short breath before turning.

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel unworthy of being on the team.” I feel like I personally am the reason for her suffering, even if I had no correlation with her before I joined the team. "You are more than an asset to the team and are your own kind of weapon. It's incomparable."

“Ugh,” she sniffles and rubs an eye with the heel of her free hand as if to disguise a possible tear as allergies. “This would be so much easier if you were a piece of shit misogynistic asshole, but you're part of the few good ones out there. Steve, Sam, and Clint included, not Tony,” she noted.

I smiled, thinking about how I’d make a team like that even if she had me believe otherwise for so long.

“What I’m trying to get at, B, is you’re not the one I should be blaming for my past. You’re just as much a victim as I am, but I took the easy way out of making it more manageable for me, and I only made it harder for us both in the end. And for that,” she turned and stared into my eyes fully, the hand she held squeezing my own. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve an ounce of the kind of cruelness I tried to bury you in. You are the opposite of what they tried to make you, and you’re genuine in proving that to anyone who meets you. I've been envious of the strength you have, and I can say confidently that I deeply regret ever blaming you for that.”

I once again have to process yet another collection of words I’d never thought I hear. From her. Ever. A part of me believed this was a dream, but the part that Y/N had a grip on was practically pinching me into reality.

Without hesitating, I stood up, pulled her arm up with me, and yanked her into my body in a crushing hug.

She froze at first… The motion was quick and surprising, but slowly, she unhooked our hands, brought both of hers tightly around my waist, and laid into me. I rested my head on top of hers and pulled her shoulders in with my arms, wrapping both of my own tightly around her.

I wasn’t going to let go until she did, and by the looks of it… She wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

Marvel Tags:

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Mr. & Mrs. Hunt Series:

@jackiehollanderr @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @theroyalmanatee @wintrsoldrluvr @alexakeyloveloki @learisa @bxckybxrnes24 @lillianacristina @selella @heletsmelovehim @lovelybaka @heletsmelovehim @bubblegumbeautyqueen @mostlymarvelgirl @that-d-bitch @rabbitrabbit12321

[mickeym0xley]

hi. i dont go here but I wanna talk.

imagine being Josef Newgarden, 13 and after trying a few sports and not being too good at any, you starting karting, you immediately pick up four titles. you love it. you travel to europe and become the first american to get a Formula Ford Festival title. Europe is harsh to you and in 2011 you return back to america. Something about the home soil fuels you and you win an Indy lights championship. you get into indycar the next year.

meanwhile, across the world in New Zealand, Scott Mclaughlin becomes the youngest driver to win a Supercars race. He breaks the record for most wins in a single season. He's dominant, simple. He's just like you in every way possible. Little do you know, your future best friend is watching you become Penske Perfect. He's watching and rooting for you from an ocean over.

In 2021, Scott comes over from Supercars. You werent ever too close to anyone on the grid- but you two click. You were so used to keeping your friends close and your enemies closer, that you let him in.

in 2021, you have a best friend. you both know that being teammates and friends won't work for long. you both can bet on it long before it happens. in 2022 you create a youtube channel and start making little videos with Scott. People like you guys, they think you're funny. You're not just Josef Newgarden, 2x Indycar champion and Penske driver, but also you're 1/2 of Bus Bros. This is the closest you've ever been with a teammate on this level. It's an emotional dynamic. It carries on into 2023 with a little less passion. Heartbreak in inevitable. Some days you wanna make sure he's okay, other days you hope he suffers. You wanna break his leg- quick and aggressively, he wants to beat your skull in. You'll film a Bus Bros episode that weekend and pretend you didn't openly say that in an interview. You mindlessly believe it will be resolved, that you two can fix it when it falls apart. Scott is a realist, saying you're a limited duo. You're both too egotistical to believe you're wrong is what he says.

2023 wraps up and it's your worst season finish. What happened to Penske perfection? You were bigger than the whole sky, a demon on ovals. You were everything Penske represented. Scott's making you soft. What happened to your perfection that people said was impossible? Scott is not only your best friend, but your teammate. And he's starting to win. He's the friend you held as close as your enemies until you realized he was just like them. Coming into the 2024 season, you unfollow everyone. Rumors are spiraling and you end Bus Bros, quietly taking down the merch site. Scott refuses to answer questions besides saying to ask you about it.

It's the streets of St. Pete, Penske has an illegal car- you all know about it. You and Scott get a 1-2. Podiums are publicity, everyone has their eyes on you. Be as cordial as you can, you'll crop him out of your photos later on instagram.

The cooldown room is more tense, Scott refuses to sit by you. The cars illegal, they figure it out in Long Beach. The St. Pete 1-2 gets stripped away from you. Scott sees things level and you're hungry only for another win, to be seen as the winner you once were. The Barber press conference is an embarrassment for you, you're spilling your guts on a white table while cameras flash. Scott admits to it and takes subtle digs at you in an interview. (x,x)

Scott takes pole position at the 500. Scott leads the most laps. But you won. Your hunger motivated you and here it is, the proof you're better. You lost your best friend for it. you're the first back to back Indy 500 race winner since 2001-2002. People are calling you the villain. This is how it ends. Scott makes fun of you during your speech, "I still love you my bus bro." And thats how it ends. You're still cropping eachother out of posts. You seldomly talk. It's not over though, and it never will be.

Oh and Will Power is there.

[baddestbittyontheblock]

bada lee fic recs (1)

you are responsible for the content you consume‼️

✧*:·˚ hi everyone!! here is a list of all the fics that are my favs with tagged writers/authors ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each writer!! ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ also, if you'd like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ✧*:·˚

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

𓆩𑁍𓆪 into you by @jihyoruri bada lee x reader | y/n is apart of jam republic, bada is older than yn, fluff, one sided enemies to potential lovers, fluff, yn is lowkey insane but it’s okay

-y/n poked her tongue into the side of cheek as her gaze hardens on the tall dancer, of course she just had to be here and look the way she does, so annoyingly attractive.

𓆩𑁍𓆪 moments like this by @miyoii bada lee x fem!reader | fluff

-moments with bada are the best ones

𓆩𑁍𓆪 obvious by @jihyoruri bada lee x reader | y/n is a member of twice, everybody is out here embarrassing yn, fluff

-y/n leaned into her seat as she watched the dancers, she was so focused that she didn’t even realize monika lean over to her.

𓆩𑁍𓆪 i won't stop until that girl is mine by @gezelligs-world bada lee x jam republic!reader

-"she is just so- argh!" i said while pacing back and forth frustratedly. ling and audrey just watched me with amused expressions.

𓆩𑁍𓆪 all mine by @urlovebot bada lee x reader | smut(dumbification. throat fucking with a strap-on. EXTREMELY possessive bada. reader is a brat, bada is a brat tamer)

-“put it on for me.”

𓆩𑁍𓆪 working hard to please you by @nimxie mechanic!bada lee x reader | smut and angst

-bada saves you ass and fixes your car and then is like a whimpery mess later

𓆩𑁍𓆪 style by @mikachacha bada lee x actress!idol!reader | language, a very jealous bada and lots of steam from this one

-you and bada are always the hottest talk of the town. with your seemingly on and off relationship stirring up the internet constantly. but then what happens when you visit street woman fighter 2 to give them a challenge to choreograph your new single?

𓆩𑁍𓆪 tell your friends by @urlovebot bada lee x reader | smut(full on. cunnilingus. strap/harness. possessive bada hitting it from the back)

-the universe really had it out for you today.

𓆩𑁍𓆪 garden kisses by @urlovebot bada lee x reader | friends to lovers. a bit of angst in the beginning. cunnilingus. jealous bada. bada is bad at communicating feelings. some texts thrown in there. possessive bada. pussy drunk bada.

-"how do i look?’

“fine.”

“just fine?”

“what do you want me to say?”

𓆩𑁍𓆪 headcannons by @maraudersmyloves bada lee× fem idol reader

-their relationship would be like off and in front of the camera

𓆩𑁍𓆪 trophy by @scarletaqua g!p!bada lee x jam republic!reader

-“i’m so nervous. everyone is so intimidating”

𓆩𑁍𓆪 loving in secret by @badasgirlfriend bada lee x fem!reader

-y/n was holding bada's hand as they were watching their teams group evaluation. bada had told her she had nothing to worry about but she still cared, despite trying to put up a tough front.

𓆩𑁍𓆪 "oh hush, bada lee" by @nimxie bada lee x idol!reader

-being an idol means always being busy, but everyone always has time for surprises

𓆩𑁍𓆪 i'm sorry that i hurt you by @gezelligs-world bada lee x jam republic!reader

-"why does y/n's team suddenly become viral?" mina myoung said while looking at the performance on her phone, along with her crew members.

𓆩𑁍𓆪 winner takes it all by @badagf bada lee x swf2!f!reader | SMUT!! it’s intense + not for the faint hearted. you’re responsible for what you read

-it all comes down to this: bada’s just won street woman fighter, and needs someone to celebrate with

𓆩𑁍𓆪 hope we make it to the cloud by @dallaji bada lee x idol!reader | eventual smut, bada is 100% a giver and not a receiver in this jsyk (it makes sense in context), hinted voyeurism

-amidst an identity crisis, you try to adequately prepare for your solo comeback. the lyrics have already been perfected, the song recorded and the visuals pinpointed. however, your creative team is not fully convinced by the choreography you came up with. they decide to send over one bada lee to help you finetune your jumbled ideas and bring harmony to your vision. you just have one specific request: the routine must include a trampoline.

𓆩𑁍𓆪 wallflower by @sydnerss bada lee x reader | 18+ (MDNI), language, penetration, bottom!reader, top!bada, idol!reader good girl gone bad type beat, reader is a lowkey slut?

-you’ve always been such a cutesy person. you’re tired of it.

𓆩𑁍𓆪 bada brabble by @lexpupz g!pbada lee x reader | pure filth, dom!bada, G!P BADA (sorry to all the g!p haters), facefucking, sweaty sex, very very lowkey dubcon, spitting (also just a tiny bit), facials, bdsm, slapping, bruises and overall marking, dacryphilia, bondage

-i dont care how smiley she always gets i did NOT come here to fuck around.

𓆩𑁍𓆪 bada drabble by @fanfiction4sooya bada lee x reader

-I think she would be the protective type.

𓆩𑁍𓆪 bada fic by @dallaji bada lee x idol!reader | established relationship, porn without plot, once again giver!bada, filming (consensually)

-living alone wasn’t so bad.

𓆩𑁍𓆪 forever yours by @ssivinee bebe!bada lee x dancer!fem reader

-you and bada were quite a well-known duo within the dance world. you two grew up together and have been inseparable ever since, but as you drifted apart, you met again on street woman fighter 2.

𓆩𑁍𓆪 black and white by @bountycancelled bada lee x fem!reader | jealous! bada(she lowkey gives possesive alpha vibes in this and im sorry, but its still hot cuz its her), kind of smut? like they don't smash but close enough, HOWL

-"how do I look?"

𓆩𑁍𓆪 takeout (on me) by @urlovebot gf!bada lee x reader | pussy whipped bada lee taking you in several different positions. cannot get enough of the noises you make and how good she makes you feel. good god.

-your back arched as bada's hands ran down your sides, stopping to squeeze at your waist.

𓆩𑁍𓆪 water by @urlovebot bada lee x reader | bath time with bada. aftercare but bada is h word on main still. smut(fingering, praise, soft dom!bada)

-"-fuck" you try and stretch out your legs but to no avail. you might die in this position.

𓆩𑁍𓆪 kissin' and hope they caught us by @urlovebot bada lee x reader

-reader gets into their head alot, but bada is always there to reassure you

𓆩𑁍𓆪 bada as your tall sexy dancer gf by @urlovebot bada lee x reader

𓆩𑁍𓆪 smut headcannons by @urlovebot bada lee x reader

-experiment bada and innocent reader where bada start trying out what kind of kinks turn on reader

𓆩𑁍𓆪 smut drabble by @westwoodsvivi bada lee x reader | smut (consensual somnophilia)

-like, bada just returned from a extremely busy day and she’s really wanting some hugs and kisses from you but she finds you in a deep sleep at your shared apartment’s couch.

𓆩𑁍𓆪 nasty thoughts hour by @westwoodsvivi bada lee x reader | smut

𓆩𑁍𓆪 ocean eyes pt:1 by @currentfications bada lee x producer!reader | swearing

-you’re the newest member to jam republic agency’s south korean branch, starting next week as a music producer. you’ve arrived a few weeks in advance to settle into the area, and was advised by the agency to stop by justjerk to greet another fellow member, famous choreographer bada lee.

𓆩𑁍𓆪 drunk and possessive pt:2 by @sydnerss drunk!top!bada lee x bottom!reader | 18+ (MDNI), language, lowercase intended, oral sex, fingering, car sex, praise, fluff ending, implied round 2

-bada shows you that you’re hers

𓆩𑁍𓆪 even the sun hides by @sydnerss bada lee x reader | pure fluff, upset bada, lowercase intended

-bada was having a bad day so you took care of her

[siilvan]

bloodsport – IV

prologue | one | two | three | next

characters: vladimir makarov

summary: your first time back in the field is a whirlwind of emotions, especially after being forced to rely on yet another enemy. new information is revealed, and you realize that a drastic action may be the only way to fix this mess.

genre: angst, slowburn, enemies to ?, fem!reader (callsign: petra)

warnings: semi-proofread, cursing, canon-typical violence, descriptions of blood/injuries, poorly written spec-ops, allusions to trauma and stress, reader has a bit of a breakdown, graves lol

word count: 6k

note: giving a quick PSA here— please be mindful about what y'all write. i know this fic is about a very controversial and problematic character, but i try to be mindful about how i portray him and his actions. don't romanticize things that should not be romanticized, and be respectful to people. COD as a whole is problematic, but that doesn't mean we need to be a shitty community. support real victims, don't spread hate. easy peasy.

also, yes, i changed my formatting. the little text is too hard to read without my glasses, so... yeah. hope it's not ugly now :)

you spend the rest of the night tossing and turning, trying but failing to will yourself to fall asleep. soap texts you shortly before the sun comes up - a picture of himself and the rest of the team, posing for the camera. they're covered in dirt and ash, exhaustion apparent in their eyes, but the image is enough to make you crack a smile.

you give them a few hours, pulling yourself out of bed after sunrise and occupying yourself with mundane tasks around the house, before picking up the phone and calling price.

"hey, captain. sorry for calling so early." you chuckle, leaning against the arm of the couch.

"don't worry about it," price clears his throat, hoarse from fatigue, and you wonder for a second if he was asleep before you called. "was just finishing some paperwork. what d'you need?"

a low sigh escapes from you. "i know it's only been a day, but... can i come back? i really want to get back to work."

you can hear papers shuffling from his end. "i know you want to work, but we just can't take the risk—"

"there isn't going to be any risk," you assert, raising your voice slightly and interrupting him. you pause and wet your lips, speaking in a softer tone again. "please, captain, i know i can handle it. i just want to get back to normal already."

the line is quiet for a long moment, with price silently deliberating over your request. you shift nervously, gripping the phone tighter as you wait impatiently for a response.

finally, after you shift for the umpteenth time, he exhales deeply.

"i'll see if i can convince laswell, okay?" he concedes. you can hear his chair creaking as he leans back - you're assuming, at least. "pack your bags. i'll send a transport helicopter in an hour."

⋆⋆⋆

that's how you ended up at base again, with the team welcoming you back with open arms. laswell initially rejected the idea, stating the same concerns as before, but price managed to sway her after some discussion.

so, now you're in a meeting room, gathered around a table with lists, blueprints, names, pictures— any and all of the intel that the task force has gotten their hands on, scattered across the surface. you blink when price raps his knuckles against the tabletop, drawing your attention.

it's laswell who talks, shooting a glance around the table to address the group. "as you're all aware, shadow company has been a target of the konni group in recent times," she starts, sending you a cursory look, asking you for confirmation. you nod, and she continues. "not only have they been fighting the group head-on in al-mazrah, but there's been several incidents with undercover konni operatives in their ranks."

"good, let 'em fuckin' deal with it." soap remarks, earning noises of agreement from gaz, ghost, and yourself. price and laswell aren't as entertained by it.

"general shepherd, commander graves, and their men betrayed us." laswell pauses before letting out a heavy sigh. "i know none of you were happy about the ceasefire, and i know that you were furious when graves resurfaced. but, besides farah's forces, shadow company is our strongest ally."

"—and the only one capable of making any strong moves without risking an all-out war." price adds, shaking his head. everyone's displeased with the situation, that much is obvious.

"where are you goin' with this?" ghost asks. a tense silence fills the room for a long moment, making you shift awkwardly.

laswell motions towards the door on the far side of the room with her head. you cast your gaze in the same direction, watching as the door is pushed open.

as if on cue, the very man that should've been buried in flames in las almas walks into the room. the shadow himself. philip graves.

"oh, fuck off." soap growls at the man, looking ready to lunge at him from across the table. ghost steps forward and, if you didn't know any better, you'd think he was reaching for his sidearm. gaz and price are eerily quiet while glaring daggers at him, and you immediately feel the blood rush to your ears as every nerve commands you to shoot him yourself.

"i know this isn't ideal," laswell attempts to placate all of you, though the cold stare she regards him with betrays her calm demeanor. "but, for now, we're allies. we have a bigger threat to worry about."

"yeah, those konni guys are, uh..." graves perks up, languidly sauntering up to the table. he purses his lips for a second, thinking, before clicking his tongue. "real troublesome. i've lost a lot of good men thanks to them."

"good." ghost mutters, straightening himself next to soap.

price cuts through the tension with a wave of his hand. "alright, none of us want this, but we've got no other options." he grumbles. "konni's moving towards urzikstan. if we want to stop 'em, then we need to cooperate."

you eye graves from your peripherals, recalling the information that makarov gave you a couple weeks ago. graves isn't in on shepherd's plan, but he's likely the only person who knows the general's whereabouts. you need to say something while you still can. how will he take the news, though? he's betrayed you before, he'll do it again if it benefits him.

"petra, you listening?" laswell's voice abruptly interrupts your thoughts. you divert your attention back to her and notice that everyone's focus is on you.

"i have something i need to say," you blurt out. you need to bring up the general before he potentially ropes graves in.

you receive a collection of interested stares, urging you to go on.

"when i was captured, i managed to get some information," you drop your gaze, narrowing your eyes at the documents laid out. "we're not just fighting konni and al-qatala. some of the forces occupying al-mazrah are under shepherd's command."

the silence that falls over the room is almost deafening. the group balks at you with shock and confusion written on their expressions, until graves huffs out a laugh.

"general shepherd's 'forces' are my men. i can assure you, petra, that none of my shadows are workin' with konni." he says with a lopsided smile, confident as ever.

you turn to face graves fully, grimacing. "i'm not talking about your shadows. shepherd has another group under his command."

"what group?" price asks.

"cia operatives. ex-soldiers, specifically." you turn back, eyes flitting between price and laswell. "he's sending men undercover. the unmarked mercenaries that we keep encountering? that's them."

laswell shakes her head and crosses her arms over her chest. "where did you get this information?"

you freeze. your mouth opens to say makarov's name, but for some reason, you hesitate. with a deep inhale, you blink away the odd feeling and force the words past your lips.

"makarov. i'm not sure why, but he told me about it."

yet another unbearable tension befalls the group; you're getting close to ripping your hair out over it. as if reading your thoughts, gaz speaks up.

"you know about this?" he says, directed at graves. he's tight-lipped, glowering at him.

graves doesn't respond, letting the question hang in the air. he looks just as surprised as the rest of you - makarov was telling the truth, then. shadow company isn't in on the plan. shepherd has effectively betrayed his strongest ally, to your knowledge.

"i'm sure there's an explanation," graves utters, chuckling to himself. "war's a dirty business. there's good reason to send men undercover."

"he's got part of the special activities division in his pocket." laswell says.

"isn't that where you pulled alex from?" price hums, earning a nod in reply. it's a bad situation, to say the least.

you regain everyone's attention and continue. "i don't know the full plan, but makarov suspected that shepherd's doing this to put himself back on top. start a war, get himself marked as a hero, reap the rewards."

graves raises a brow at you, amusement written on his face. "and, we should trust the judgement of a terrorist?" he says while searching the room for support.

price keeps his gaze on you, though the distant look in his eye tells you that his mind is elsewhere. "i'd trust this one's judgement." he mutters, jaw clenching.

"well, there's no point in standin' around, is there?" graves seems to bounce back quickly, shrugging off the news. "we've got a job to do and a terrorist to catch. let's focus on that."

"i'll contact farah and see if alex knows anything about the men under shepherd's command." laswell says as you all break away from the table and start to file out of the room.

"keep us updated," price nods to her before turning to the rest of you. "wheels up in thirty. we'll debrief on the way."

you breathe out a relieved sigh once everyone breaks off, heading off to finish any last minute preparations before takeoff. you linger in the corridor, running a hand down your face and groaning into the palm of your hand. of course, you have no choice but to work with an enemy whilst relying on intel from yet another. at least you can be open with your team about this one.

shepherd and makarov are your targets. graves comes after. take down all three, and your headaches are gone. no more doubting yourself, no more questions, no more nights spent looking at lists of crimes that make you feel sick. you can resume your not-so-peaceful life with the rest of the task force and celebrate the world being a somewhat safer place.

your phone buzzes in your pocket, distracting you from your pondering and pulling you back to the present. you frown at the name on the caller id.

it's a single letter: 'v.'

after your conversation - if you can even call it that - with makarov last night, you saved his number. putting his name in your phone is basically shooting yourself in the foot, so you saved it under a name that gives you deniability in the event someone sees it.

you duck into an empty rec room nearby and accept the call, keeping an eye on the door as you lift the phone to your ear.

"you actually picked up the phone this time." makarov remarks upon you answering. your frown deepens, brows furrowing.

"if you don't have anything important to say, i'm hanging up."

he chuckles, far too casual for your liking. "i have an update. something that i'm sure you'll be interested in."

you shift, leaning against the back of one of the couches. "what is it?"

"in case you're planning to return to al-mazrah, just know that shepherd's men have been given strict orders to target and eliminate members of the one-four-one."

a chill creeps up the back of your spine. it's an unsurprising order, but you still rack your brain as to why he gave it. does shepherd somehow know that you know about his plans? it shouldn't be possible— until the meeting that finished just minutes ago, the only people privy to the knowledge were makarov and yourself.

of course, shepherd's allies are aware of it, but the only ally of his that you've contacted is graves. you doubt that he's talked to the general in the short amount of time since, which eliminates graves as a possibility just as quickly as you suspected him.

there has to be another source. someone feeding him information, keeping the one-four-one under watch.

"shepherd's got a mole in our group." you reply, pinching the bridge of your nose. "fucking hell. he knows that we're onto him."

"'we,' lieutenant?" he comments with an amused lilt in his tone.

"my team, asshole. he's got men undercover in your group and in my squad. he's watching all of his enemies."

makarov hums, voice dropping a little. "you have a keen eye, petra. have you asked the shadow about shepherd's whereabouts, yet?" he asks, brushing past your frustration.

"haven't had the chance," you mutter. "based on his reaction to the news, i doubt he'll give it away, though. we might have to get the location ourselves."

he exhales, audible through the phone. "it would be more convenient if you could convince him to tell you."

you roll your eyes. "yeah, of course it would. just don't expect any miracles. aren't you the one with all the mysterious ways of gathering information, anyway?" you grumble sarcastically and move away from the couch, starting to pace around the room while keeping your gaze on the door.

"i can get his location if necessary, but that would eliminate your usefulness in this operation, wouldn't it?"

he's right, and you hate him for it. "you still need me to kill him." you counter bluntly.

"i can do that, too. your team wants revenge for his betrayal. this is me being charitable - don't disappoint."

makarov ends the call before you have the chance to argue, leaving you to huff to yourself in the empty room. a moment later, a head pokes around the doorway, startling you and nearly making you drop your phone when you jump.

gaz is regarding you with a sly grin as he fully reveals himself and steps into the room. your palms immediately moisten with sweat as worry floods your mind - how much did he just hear?

"so, who you talkin' to?" gaz cocks his head to the side, teasing. he's relaxed, standing in front of you with his hands shoved in his pockets.

you pocket your phone and flash a calm smile. "that depends. you have any guesses?"

he chuckles, lifting one of his hands to playfully stroke at his chin as he thinks. "let's see... i know you weren't home for long, but—" his grin morphs into a lopsided smirk as he eyes you suspiciously. "y'got a boyfriend?"

dear god, no.

you resist the urge to gag at the thought and shake your head. "nope, it's just a... friend of mine."

gaz leans forward, an inquisitive 'ah' tumbling from his lips. "a friend, eh? they got a name?" he asks.

"he, uh... just goes by 'v.'"

"'v?' like the letter?"

you answer with an affirmative "mhm," patting gaz on the shoulder as you brush past him. "it's a nickname i gave him. don't worry about it."

gaz groans in exasperation as you stroll towards the door, trying to ignore the way your heart races. lying is a normal part of the job, but lying to your team? generally not recommended.

"most 'just friends' don't have exclusive nicknames, you know!" gaz calls out from behind as you round the corner and start down the hall, leaving him alone.

a sick part of you finds the sentiment - makarov, being anything more than an enemy - entertaining, but your better judgement steers you back on track. you've got a mission to prepare for, and the likelihood of something going wrong is as high as ever. you need to focus on the mission and getting graves to give up shepherd.

⋆⋆⋆

shadow company's gunship is a familiar sight as you climb aboard, slipping past the groups of shadows and finding your teammates gathered around what you can only describe as the command center. graves is standing close by, though the tension is palpable as you approach.

after the aircraft lifts off is when graves talks, addressing the soldiers lining the seats of the craft.

"alright, now i know we've had our problems in the past," he starts, briefly acknowledging your group before turning back to his men. "however, none of that matters right now. the one-four-one is our ally on this mission; treat 'em like your own. copy that, shadows?"

johnny snorts from next to you. "where have we heard this before?" he mumbles.

there's a resounding "yep-yep" from his men, accompanied by several nods and looks in your direction. graves pats one of the soldiers on the shoulder and looks to price.

"think you can lay out the rest, captain."

price starts down the middle row, his voice booming even over the sounds of people checking their weapons, gear, and anxiously shifting in their seats. he moves slowly, practically stalking down the length of the gunship.

"the mission is simple: konni and al-qatala have set up bases across the city. they're using gas, heavy artillery, and stolen weapons to protect themselves." price stops for a moment and lets his gaze drag over the soldiers staring back at him. "i don't think i need to remind you shadows of what konni's done to your brothers in arms. we're going to break off into strike teams - eight men - and destroy these bases. alpha team will take the nerve center in the heart of the city. you already know your assignments."

graves speaks again once price goes quiet. "the commanders are not likely going to be in any of these field bases. but, if they are, then each and every single one of you has execute authority." he announces. "first man to bag an HVT gets a reward." he adds with a smirk, earning light laughter from several of his men.

when the speeches conclude, you settle back in your seat.

alpha team includes yourself, price, graves, and five of the shadows that graves handpicked. ghost, soap, and gaz are leading the bravo team, charged with the largest and best-guarded of the field bases. the commanding chain within shadow company are leading the other groups tasked with the bases scattered around the city.

you fish your phone out of one of your vest pockets when it buzzes, reading the notification on the screen.

there's an agent in your group 11:06 am

not a shadow. special forces. 11:06 am

you frown, angling the screen back and quickly scanning the group. everyone seems to be engrossed in conversation, giving you a chance to respond.

do you have a name? 11:07 am

not yet. he's a rookie. 11:07 am

he's stationed at the base you're staying at 11:07 am

check the files. should have transferred recently. 11:08 am

thank you. 11:08 am

don't mention it. 11:09 am

you're quick to tuck your phone away again, jolting when gaz suddenly addresses you.

"texting your boyfriend, eh?" he laughs, catching everyone's attention.

soap snorts and turns to you. "since when did you start dating?"

you wave them off, sitting up again as all eyes fall on you - even ghost, who is usually horribly uninterested in gossip.

"what are you two, schoolchildren?" you ask, earning playful noises of offense. "he's just a friend. not even a close one."

you're getting yourself caught up in a lie. a shitty one, at that. all it's doing is making people more interested in who you're talking to. at this rate, you'll get caught by the end of the day.

"bullshit— no one in this job talks to a person this much if they're not special." gaz counters, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

price chuckles. "c'mon, gaz. come off it," he lightly scolds the sergeant before looking at you. "just make sure he treats you nice, yeah?" he adds, both teasing and sincere at the same time.

"he's not my— yeah, okay. i'll remember that." you concede, slumping back in your seat.

the topic is dropped not long after, leaving you to relax as people talk around you. after a couple minutes, you can feel your eyelids start to droop, reminding you of how restless last night was. the trip's going to take a while, you might as well get some sleep while you still can.

⋆⋆⋆

everything is so hot. the sun, the ground, your clothes, the air— you.

you don't have any protective gear on, your sidearm secured in your loose grip as you stumble through the ruins where a city once stood.

that's right, you think. the city was destroyed in all the fighting. reduced to nothing more than rubble. you remember when there used to be buildings here; half-toppled and abandoned, but they stood as evidence of life nonetheless.

you falter, landing on your knee and hissing as it hits the solid ground below you. your vision starts to blur as your eyes water, forcing you to rub at them with your free hand in a desperate attempt to clear them.

when you blink rapidly, trying to force back the disorientation and bleariness, you notice a figure directly ahead of you.

an ally. a friend. someone that can help.

you force yourself to your feet and stagger towards them, sucking in a hopeful breath when they start to rush to meet you. the harsh sun— fuck, it's so hot— makes you squint, preventing you from making out a face until they're already pulling you into their embrace, strong arms holding you close to their chest.

"it's okay." their voice— his voice, reassures you softly, one of his hands coming to rest on the back of your head, cradling you impossibly closer. "i took care of it, my dear. you're safe now."

hot tears streak down your cheeks, dirty with sand, dust, and ash, as you wrap your arms around his middle. you try to speak, but all that comes out is a hiccup and a pathetic sob, so you resolve to burying your face in his shoulder to muffle your cries.

you're tired. exhausted, actually. for once in this career, you want to be selfish. you want to be the protected one. fighting, losing allies, killing— it never ends.

he shushes you, but even in your state, you can tell the action is unnatural. gentleness, empathy, tender care... it isn't who he is.

you manage to lift your head enough to look at him, eyes glassy with tears.

makarov stares back at you, his callous gaze betraying the way he holds you. it makes you pause, confused, as you slowly recall why you're even here.

you were fighting konni operatives. there was a missile— no, something bigger. something that decimated the city and would have taken you along with it, had you not ducked into a shelter at the very last second. when you emerged, shaken and dazed in the aftershock, you encountered al-qatala and konni mercenaries alike.

bodies scattered in the streets, men wheezing for air despite blood displacing the oxygen in their lungs and leaking from every orifice, some still trying to fight even as they collapse in heaps of pure agony, writhing on the ground alongside their brothers in arms.

you wince when his fingers trace along the edge of your jaw, his forefinger hooking under your chin and forcing you to look into his eyes after your gaze drifts away.

"their lives mean nothing," makarov whispers, barely audible over the sound of your heart pounding against your ribcage. "not compared to you. you're better, stronger, than them. you will serve me well. you will help me usher in a new age."

he runs the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, slightly chapped from the dry heat. on instinct, you part your lips, and he moves his hand to cup your face before leaning in to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

it's wrong. this is wrong.

you shouldn't be here. you shouldn't be doing this.

the kiss is a distraction, keeping you occupied as his other hand falls from its spot on your hip. you don't even notice the change until a gunshot rings out, and pain equally as burning as the kiss courses through your veins.

you can't even muster a proper cry as you pull back, one of your own hands flying to the epicenter of the pain, right in the middle of your stomach. your fingers brush against the spot, and you whimper when you lift them back up to your face. dark red stains your skin, dripping down your wrist.

"i just need to fix you first. under my guidance... you will be perfect, my dear." makarov mutters, catching you and holding you up when you crumple against him. he coos at you, sympathetic yet mocking, as he scoops you up in his arms, the world around you going dark.

⋆⋆⋆

you wake up with a start, shifting to the edge of your seat as you frantically rub at your eyes. there's an ache deep in the pit of your stomach, making you press your palm against the same spot as your dream.

this time, when you look down at your hand, you see nothing. a shaky sigh escapes from you at the sight - or, rather, the lack thereof.

"y'all right?" ghost asks, eyeing you from the seat across from you.

"yeah, yeah—" you respond, shaking off the lingering effects of the dream. "we almost there?"

price comes over, having been talking with graves some feet away, and pats your shoulder in acknowledgement. "about to touch down, actually. let's go."

you disembark alongside the rest of alpha team, taking up formation with price and graves, with the few shadow company operatives behind the three of you. reaching the building isn't a difficult task despite the many mercenaries standing between it and your team; as much as you hate to admit it, the shadows are skilled in the field, even with their misgivings.

the building is another high rise, like the one you infiltrated weeks ago, half-crumpled from the effects of the fighting in the city. price leads the group as you all enter it through a sizeable hole in the wall, clearing out the first floor with trained precision.

the group of shadows form a perimeter just outside as you investigate the interior with price and graves, finding it... empty?

"thought you said this was the nerve center," you mutter, turning to the men as they search around, equally as perplexed as you. "there's nothing here."

price shakes his head, standing up from where he was crouched over some rubble. "there was something here. they must've moved."

"they knew we were comin'." graves says with a frustrated huff. "probably just protecting it to keep up the charade. the real control center could be anywhere in the city."

the two start for the exit with you in tow. "could be outside of it for all we know. we need to contact the other squads." price replies before pausing at the threshold and angling his head upwards. you stop several feet back and send him a confused look, before a low rumbling echoes throughout the building, sending dust and small debris falling from the floors above.

the rumbling stops for a second, until a louder, harsher one follows. larger pieces of wreckage start to loosen and threaten to fall, small bits clattering against the ground.

"shit, the building's too unstable— it's gonna collapse—!" price shouts as a metal beam crashes into the ground less than twenty feet away from you.

while price and graves are able to duck out amidst the falling debris, you're forced to dive backwards after a piece of the floor above falls right into your path. you search for a way around it, but as the violent shaking increases and sends more collapsing down all around you, you realize that cover might be your only option.

you scan the room quickly and dive under a pile of slabs and beams, sturdy enough to not collapse under the weight of falling wreckage, but with just enough room for you to squeeze in underneath.

it's only seconds after you find cover that the thundering sounds of heavy rubble crashing down all around you fills your ears, forcing you to cover them with your hands as each crash makes you flinch.

the worst of the destruction is short-lived. a couple minutes pass by before you're willing to move, the occasional piece of the upper floors still collapsing around you every now and then. you let out a trembling breath once you emerge, pure adrenaline coursing through your veins.

the exit. you hastily search for it, but all hope drains from you when you find it and see that it's completely blocked by the wreckage.

"petra? can you hear me?" price's voice crackles through your radio.

you go to respond, coughing harshly due to all the dirt and dust floating in the air. "i hear you— i'm all right," you tear your eyes from the exit and look for another path. it's a big building, surely you can find something. "just stuck in here." you grumble into the radio.

"we're gonna try to find another way in, see if you can meet us somewhere." he says. you can hear graves barking orders at his men in the background. "be careful." price adds in a rushed tone.

you drop your hand from your radio and clutch your gun close as you carefully traverse the field of debris, mentally thanking whatever higher power that the building only partially collapsed on top of you, instead of crushing you completely.

every movement out the corner of your eyes makes you stop and aim your weapon at it; it's highly unlikely - but not impossible - that you're not alone. anyone could've snuck in after the collapse, or hidden themselves like you did. al-qatala, konni, shepherd's men— you have a lot of enemies and very few allies in the area.

you spin around at the sound of something shifting, but only see a few pieces of wood hitting the ground. you're getting too paranoid. you try to steel yourself, breathing deeply, before a smooth voice makes you choke on the air that gets caught in your throat.

"you are very unlucky, aren't you?"

you turn again, gun drawn and finger on the trigger, but stop short upon seeing a friendly...

well, you see makarov standing across the room. it's an enemy that doesn't seem all-too interested in killing you - for now, at least.

"how did you..." you trail off, lowering your weapon.

apparently understanding your question, he vaguely motions behind himself. "there's a breach." he says, glancing over the destruction as he approaches you.

you squint at him as he draws closer, briefly tightening your grip on your gun. he stops several feet away, though, so you allow yourself to relax just a bit, lowering your weapon.

"i figured you'd be staying far away from al-mazrah, it's an active war zone after all." you comment, earning a dismissive look.

"i don't mind getting my hands dirty," makarov utters with a lofty grin tugging at his lips. "besides, we need to talk."

you cock your head to the side, curious. "and, you couldn't call or text me about this? that's been working out so far." you chuckle softly.

he steps closer again, standing a little over an arm's length away. "i happened to be close by." he responds. "this is also something better discussed in person."

you nod, hesitantly slinging your gun over your shoulder to cross your arms over your chest.

"after our last exchange, i managed to gather more information from my... source." he punctuates the last word with a half-assed attempt at a conciliatory smile. "the mole planted within your group reported to shepherd recently; he's aware of our communication." he continues, before you interrupt him.

"wait, no one knows about this, not even my squad." you assert, taking another step closer to him. you're just under an arm's length away, now.

"there was an agent within the group assigned to your care when you were captured. one of the two men that accompanied us on the first day - he listened in on our conversation and delivered the details to the general." makarov speaks in a hushed tone, one you can just barely hear over rubble crumbling somewhere nearby. "the agent on your end tracked you after you reunited with your squad. something of yours was bugged, they heard us that night."

how could he... most of your belongings were clothes, which you know for certain weren't bugged. the only other item that traveled home with you is your cellphone—

"shit," you mumble, practically tearing your vest pocket open and grabbing your phone. there's nothing obviously wrong with it at first glance, but once you pop the case off and check inside, your suspicions are confirmed.

there's a small tracking device flashing red at you, mocking you, and you rip it out before tossing it on the ground and stomping on it.

"he's heard everything," you say, twisting your boot to scatter the broken pieces. "fuck, if this gets out— i can explain this to my team and make do with the judgement, but if shepherd tells any of his friends in their cushy government positions, i'm dead."

makarov shifts, looking past you, but you don't even notice the action thanks to the adrenaline reflooding your system. "that would be an issue," he mutters, reaching for the holster at his hip. "i suppose i could protect you."

you snort, dragging your gaze from your boot to his face. "i'm not joining your side, even for this."

a thin string of red light shines from the darkness behind you, aimed at the back of your skull. makarov follows it to its source, all but ignoring your rejection, as his fingers wrap around the handle of his desert eagle.

a loud gunshot rings out, echoing against the walls. you instinctively reach for your stomach, preparing yourself for the pain you felt in that dream, body tensing up as it flies into survival mode.

the pain never comes. a heavy thump makes you turn, however, watching as a soldier collapses to the ground. unmarked uniform. one of the general’s men.

"shepherd has not earned your blood. if anyone is going to kill you, it will be me." makarov lowers his gun and meets your muddled gaze. "i suggest you reconsider my offer, petra, and give me a call when you make up your mind."

you’re left in that state as he sidesteps and saunters past you, seemingly disappearing into the darkness himself. you’re sure there’s another exit that you missed, one he’s taking to avoid running into your squad.

his offer. joining him for protection.

you'll never follow makarov or his ideals, much less join him for such a selfish reason. if you can kill shepherd, then you can destroy any evidence and get yourself out of this mess. with graves' cooperation and your team to help, that possibility is well within your reach. the only crime you'll have to answer for is severely disappointing your teammates, but they'll understand.

except, there's no guarantee that graves will help, and the rules of engagement prevent you from taking effective action against shepherd. he may be on the run, but he's an american general - killing him could land the one-four-one in hot water with the government.

that'll only lead to more restrictions, more eyes on you, more questions— there's nothing you can do to stop it.

you need someone without limits. someone the government doesn't have their hands on.

you need makarov.

a series of heavy footsteps alert you to a new presence, snapping you out of your trance. you lift your head in time to see price, graves, and the shadows appear from around a large pile of debris in the same direction that makarov originally approached you from.

"petra!" price calls out, jogging ahead of the group and stopping just in front of you. "you broken?" he asks, placing a firm hand on your shoulder and dragging his gaze across your form, searching for any injuries.

"no, i'm fine. nothing major." you mumble, struggling to find your voice all of a sudden. "just, uh..." you lose it again, your tongue darting out to nervously wet your dry lips.

"something wrong?" he murmurs, quiet enough that graves and his men can't hear from their positions farther away.

you can feel every beat of your heart, rapidly thumping against your ribs to the point of making your chest ache. only price can give you approval to do something so risky, so stupid. he'll understand. he knows the job isn't perfect, but you do what you have to do—

"i have something to confess, captain."

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[shineonyoucrazyyandere]

Hello!!

I'm a bit new to the asking game, but I have a headcanon request! What if the Stardust Crusaders met the daughter of DIO, who had a bright and extremely sweet personality with a stand who has techomagic abilities (able to create advance technology, extended knowledge in technology). I apologize if this doesn't make sense! This would be platonic btw!

— 🧠 Anon!

I think I have a grasp of what to write for this ask finally. Darling is still a child of DIO it’s just that makes my title even wordier than it already is. Decided to do one character per bullet point btw

Platonic! Yandere! Stardust Crusaders w/ a technomagic stand darling.

You’re likely a huge help on the technological/engineering side of things for the crusaders. If you met them right at the start of trying to find DIO. Your first observation is probably akin of “Mr. Joestar you know you probably don’t need to break that expensive camera to use your stand right?”. Before long you have it repaired and ready to go, Joseph is wildly impressed and is quickly endeared to you. There is at least also one instance of him asking about fiddling around with a vending machine (for science of course), to maybe get something a little extra.

Avdol can see the trouble coming with you and Mr. Joestar a mile a way. Your eagerness towards technology is commendable and a little worrying if you get too caught up. Which is pretty often, and Joseph tends to be an enabler when it comes to anything he finds cool. He personally loves it himself but does his best to be your guide. He’s the one to most likely sit next to you in whatever transportation you’re in, it’s almost stifling but you barely notice most likely as you keep yourself entertained. There is quite a few times he does let you “loose” to do your thing, just because he enjoys your company so much.

Kakyoin is a bit more reserved in his reactions, the biggest thing that lures him to you is how well you utilize your stand in much of the technology you all run into. If you happen to bring up games out of boredom, his interest is piqued as you likely explain how you fixed a perfectly good console that was thrown in the trash. You tell him some people just don’t understand there’s things worth saving and there’s usually a fix that perfectly restores it. His feelings deepen when you tell him you believe him with the Death 13 fight. His hands are almost shaking, (In this scenario he is very likely to become a romantic yandere pretty quickly)

Polnareff bounces off your personality pretty easily, likes asking you a ton of questions and you manage to answer just about every one of them. He’d just wish you would relax a little bit and enjoy the smallest bit of relaxation (as you can when getting constantly chased by enemy stand users). So he usually nudges you with some kind of treat or even just doing something casually where it doesn’t seem that your brain is running on full power constantly. There’s a dozen times he’s even carrying you up the stairs, you deserve it. You saved his skin so he certainly has to return the favor. (This Frenchman would also be likely to end up a romantic yandere)

Jotaro is one who comes in when things go a little too far, especially if gramps or Polnareff are going what he considers over board, so if he wants to be around you he will find a way to do so. Not that he doesn’t occasionally indulge your tinkering with a little thunk to something with either his strength or Star Platinum’s. He definitely tells you to go to bed when you’re up too late for his liking while on the trip. Don’t ask why or how he got in your room, or even ponder if he was outside of your door guarding you. He can handle himself even if he is a bit hypocritical with some advice. Speaking of he is quick to tell you to lower your use of your stand, keeping it hidden so no potential danger catches everyone off guard. Especially when you’ve helped him out with Wheel of Fortune and Strength. He does let some of his eccentricities out with you and the others when it feels reasonable. But he’s still keeping one eye open at all times when he can.

If anyone’s wondering if there’s any worry about you being the daughter of DIO, I’d like to think Avdol was the one to keep an eye on you for trustworthiness before anything happened. (Even if none of them knew you were his daughter).

[oneshotnewbie]

Can you also do a oneshot where B!D is the one kidnapped in season 2 instead of Alex and she almost dies because of her asthma?

Authors note: I changed the scenery a bit and wrote a different storyline because I think it would be totally weird to write the exact same episode in season two with Baby Danvers instead of Alex in it. Hope that's okay!

ᕚ---ᕘ

Kara and Alex were on their way to your apartment, where you had planned a peaceful family dinner, when suddenly their cell phones lit up and beeped wildly in a monotonous tone. The message the two received from an anonymous sender was short and clear, but still very disturbing and frightening. "Your sister is in danger. Come to the old warehouse at the harbor alone if you want her back alive. If you take the Martian with you, she will die."

"Call her immediately!" said the redhead in a panic as she tried to trace the sender using a cell phone tracking device installed on her phone. But both the call and the pursuit went nowhere and, full of concern, the two sisters followed the instructions with a desperate expression.

Shortly afterwards the two found themselves in front of an abandoned warehouse. The surroundings were silent and frightening, only the gentle sound of the sea against the harbor wall accompanied their quick steps before they stopped opposite a shadow that only slowly approached them. "Who the hell are you and where is our sister?"

"Kara, Alex. It's nice that you came," spoke a cool voice before the shadow grew into a male figure. Despite the passing years of her high school days, Alex instantly realized that it was Rick Malverne who had been ruthlessly targeting Supergirl's family and identity for some time.

“What did you do to y/n?!” Kara shouted angrily, her eyes glowing red with anger. Malverne smiled and finally stepped into the light, where the two women's eyes met his ice-cold one. He pulled a small device out of his pocket and played around with it before throwing it to the redhead. The two of them were able to see a black and white shot of you on the small camera.

"Your sweet little sister. She will be useful for the success of my plans," he grinned devilishly and the two siblings took another look at the device in their hands. You were trembling uncontrollably in fear and with a look of panic on your face, you tried desperately to fight against the amount of cold water that was increasing slowly in the watertank you were trapped in. "And if you don't cooperate, she'll soon run out of air."

The tension in the warehouse reached its peak when Malverne stood triumphantly. His cold eyes fixed on the two siblings who were forced to be in his power. The two siblings looked at each other briefly, their minds quick as lightning as they considered how they could save you from this life-threatening situation before deciding to play his game. After all, it was your life that was now in the hands of a madman. "What do you want from us?" the redhead asked through gritted teeth, her anger running unbearably through every fiber of her body.

"Very wise of you, Danvers. You're going to help me get my father out of jail. If you don't get him out within the next six hours-" he threatened with a malicious grin and flipped a small switch in his other hand that displayed a timer on the camera. "She dies within a very short time. You have no choice."

Kara clenched her fists, her knuckles already losing blood and turning white, but she knew she had to proceed carefully. "Hop, hop, Supergirl. You don't have much time left." the blonde nodded hesitantly and he disappeared back into the darkness. The two siblings were tense as they were forced to cooperate with the enemy to save you. But in the hearts of both women they swore that Malverne's sinister plans would not go unanswered and that they would receive punishment.

While Kara and Alex reluctantly took every opportunity to hatch a plan, they tried to mislead him with a clever but stressful situation. While J'onn posed as Supergirl, Kara activated her superpowers and attacked him from behind.

When both Alex and J'onn as Supergirl took advantage of his attention and negotiated with him, the blonde took advantage of the moment of surprise. She shot forward and grabbed him in a lightning-quick movement, throwing him against the wall. Alex immediately followed her, her hands gripping his neck in a tight grip. He could only watch helplessly as his plans collapsed.

"You didn't think we'd give up so easily, did you?" Alex spoke in a threatening tone while Kara fixed him with an icy stare. They left him in the hands of the Martian who took him to the DEO and they rushed to the water tank where you were trapped and still fighting for your life. The water level rose threateningly and you were already gasping for air to the last millimeter. “Y/n, hold on!”

With her strength and speed, the blonde threw herself at the tempered safety glass until it began to shatter and you flowed out of the tank with the flood of water. The relief was palpable, but the joy of your safety was short-lived and the hardships took their toll.

Exhausted and panting in panic, you collapsed in her arms with a choking gasp, gasping for air as your siblings exchanged frightened looks. "She's having an asthma attack!" The redhead whispered, her expression serious as she realized that neither you nor any of them had an inhaler with them. "She needs to go to the hospital. There's no time to waste!"

The blonde nodded in agreement and the blonde gently lifted you into her arms. Alex also clung to Kara before she flew into the air. The night air was cool as she flew with you over the city, reaching the hospital at breathtaking speed. Doctors immediately rushed over to take care of you while Kara and Alex waited anxiously, hoping that you would regain your strength soon.

[lenasprouts-words]

olderbrother!skz headcanons :3

gn!reader with a scenerio w menstruation in changbin’s! maknae line

i want an older brother… anyways

bang chan

oh ho ho you KNOW hes gonna be super duper protective of u

like nuh uh the kids can NOT meet you

but u still get to hang out w maknae + jin line (closer to their age)

age gap is like three years or smth so

his parents adopted you when he was four and u were one

movie nights every weekend frfr

or atleast movie nights on call

and whenever you got tea, he’s on the ready

best best advice, like, ever

sometimes you wonder if this is his nineteenth life or smth

so wise

you painted a mug for him once

no one is allowed to touch it

it has its place in the gym bros’ dorm

sometimes picks you up and runs when your talking to someone

and if you ignore him he’ll start cuddling up to you

’channie get tf away go annoy seungmin or whatever im studying’

gives you nicknames like ‘buggy bear’ and ‘baby duck’

makes you learn languages with him

when he learned ikaw for manila, ph concert he showed you first

bc he knows you like listening to tagalog

he has videos of you singing and falls asleep to it when he gets homesick

lets you listen to his unreleased songs and tracks on his laptop

you got to make one that one time at home too

you send little messages to him thru out the day

and scold him when he’s up working

you know bc he gave you his location

you bought his bubble and constantly tease him

when he comes home he takes you and berry to the aquarium

he picks you up and spins you when yall hug

its the funnest thing ever

will not hesitate to bring up that time you ate hamster poop thinking it was choco chips

lee know

okay he’d be really scary to your friends but like a cat around you

your age gap b like, one or two years

he annoys you about anything

crushes, enemies, good animes or mangas

stuff like that

in turn you bug him about the members

’whats jisung like when hes sick’ ‘oh do you know innie’s plans are tomorrow’

he finds your hyunjin pc collection and blows your phone up

but his hugs are so nice and warm

he holds you by the shoulders and his hands go down your back

eventually he starts tickling you

but you use the self defense moves he’s been teaching you

one of your middle school friends had a crush on him

they were flabbergasted when you walked home together

buys you things that remind you of him

and leaves it on your window sill/table/bed

his favorite hoodie is the bunny w the middle finger bc you gave it to him

makes your lunch for you and leaves slightly passive aggressive notes in them, still sweet tho

although once you got a note that said

’give me back my hoodie or i’ll shove a water bottle up your asshole. xoxo lino hyung’ that was for jisung

once decided to pick you up from work to get sushi

your coworkers were like

’wow i didnt know they had a boyfriend’

you cried laughing hearing that and so did min

teased you about the fanfic you wrote when you were thirteen

and you tease him about the 2PM shrine he had

obviously you both r cat ppl

so he takes you to cat cafe dates all the time

insists on paying and saying you’ll pay next time

sends random ass pics on tour all the time

changbin

he absolutely cherishes you

like holds you up like a trophy infront of his friends all the time

youre two-three years apart from each other

he loves loves giving you piggy back rides

also loves squeezing the life out of you

youre the one he goes to when he buys something

and he’s the one you go to for relationship advice

once you took him to an amusement park

your camera roll was full of blackmail

tens of millions of inside jokes

one of the kids will fix their hair and you’ll both burst out laughing

bc once changbin ran into a pole fixing his hair

your ultimate group is newjeans so you went to a fansign

and got bin a signed teddybear

he cried when you gave it

he constantly tells you to be safe

when your going somewhere

’bye baby cub (nickname lol), be safe have fun love ya!’

when you need a little pick me up

he comes to you with your favorite ice cream flavor and his laptop

your emergency contact

one of your friends has to text him and he gets super suspicious

’cub who tf is this? why were they texting me?’

almost started a whole ass fight

its okay tho he apologized and bought chocolate

constantly tells you to go to bed early bc he doesn’t want you to ‘become like channie-hyung’

will run to get you what you need

if you got your period and arent prepared he’ll know

just sprints to the nearest cvs

even cleans up your nasty bedsheets bc u leaked

’oh dont worry cub i can handle it’

your on his close friends list on instagram

most times its just dedications to you that he puts on his story

hyunjin

his day one frfr

like your only a year apart so your tight asf

his hugs will be gentle but so warm

bear hugs>>>>

his huge ass hands will totally go around your neck for comfort

he also digs his face into your shoulder

he paints many things for you

like he’ll also give you his unfinished projects when he’s sick of them

shines when you compliment him

teaches you choreos and lets you make up some

dyes your hair often too

spa nights where its just the two of you with a movie of your choice in the bg

those are the days where you can just. let go

tea gets spilt. i mean like, you know absolutely everything abt the other atp

spontaneous karoake nights

he gets worried when you drink tho

’noooo what if you fall on your face and then it gets ruined!!’

when he’s tired or down tho

one of the members text you and you come over with your comfort box you packed for these situations

face masks, iced americanos, watermelons, fluffy blankets, llama eye masks for sleeping, an air purifier, room spray, and a huge hoodie and sweatpants/shorts bc he probs did NOT shower in his funk

when he goes home you take walks together and catch up

also you just. really like smelling his room

it smells like flowers and the perfume your late grandfather used

gifts you things from versace

his favorite colors are black and white; yours are brown and grey

picture wall of polaroids w photos u took together

you stream his music 24/7

he writes sad sad songs abt missing you

worse than hannie and his break up songs 😭

working on the maknae line!

[il3x]

Worm OC Tumblr I would like to present my silliest most self-indulgent OCs:

They're a largely non-violent villain duo known for high-profile thefts. I keep them around because a) fun to draw, and b) if I ever need a few low-stakes enemies to throw at other OCs they work pretty well.

Power details (a lot of details...) below the cut.

Null is a Tinker who specialises in breaking or "nullifying" other technology, including Tinkertech. The more complex, the easier to nullify, though some tech requires specialised tools or conditions. PRT have her down as an infiltration/countersurveillance Tinker, and there's some debate online as to whether she's actually a Thinker.

NU11 (Alicia Lee, she/her)

Age: Early 20s

PRT Classification: Tinker/Stranger 4.

Affiliation: Villain

Null uses her powers for infiltration, hence the Stranger rating. She "nullifies" such things as cameras, security systems, and locks. Her power sabotages a device's intended function, so if a lock is intended to stay closed, Null can get it open. Again, the more high-tech, the easier; Null learned mundane lockpicking to use on simple mechanical locks, since that's easier and less intrusive than trying to Tinker them open.

Null can only create tech if the result is solely for tech nullification, e.g. her EMP cannon. She approximates other gadgets by starting with a complicated piece of technology and selectively nullifying its functions. This is how she got her goggles' attachments. Her power sometimes manifests in combat-Thinker-esque ways, like "I want to nullify that load-bearing wall, on top of those people, using, oh, this handgun". (It gives her the necessary mental facilities to use her "tools" for the nullification, which can include perfect aim if the "tool" is a weapon. She is still limited by her body, though, so things like hand tremors will get her. Someone like Tattletale could tell her aim was due to one-off power hax.)

These two don't have much backstory, but Null triggered from being stalked.

-----

A shameless Kurogiri expy. Void's Breaker state is purple-black fog that acts as portals; Void can split himself up into blobs of fog (usually roughly door-sized) and anything or anyone entering one blob is instantly teleported out of another. Void chooses the exit point.

Void (Undecided, he/him)

Age: Undecided (adult)

PRT classification: Breaker (Mover) 7-ish

Affiliation: Villain

His fog acts like normal fog, can be kept out of a room by airtight sealing, can't really interact with solids in a meaningful manner. He has telekinetic control over his 'true consciousness' blob. Portals are anchored in place, so you can't blow them away or disperse them.

He can have a (seemingly) indefinite number of portals open at once, and a (seemingly) indefinite distance between portals, but there are some limitations:

He can only leave a portal somewhere he is, and he has to move conventionally. He can telekinesis himself along at up to his top human running speed, without exhaustion.

He produces more fog at a fixed rate, so there's a time delay between making portals

Portals vanish when Void exits breaker state, meaning he has to spend a lot of time in his fog state to use his typical M.O. (multiple portals far apart to get rid of enemies and/or retreat). He can't speak in fog state, or interact with solids objects much, and his senses are limited.

Void can also swap his consciousness, and effective respawn point for his human form, to any of the portals. Tldr: teleport himself and any people and loose and less-than-door-sized objects pretty much anywhere. Justifies a 7+, I think?

Physical engagements with Null and Void tend to end with being shoved in a portal and finding yourself in Australia. Void also leaves portals open to their HQ, so you're fighting a Tinker with a shortcut straight to her workshop. Fun!

Void is the powerhouse, but his weaknesses make him pretty useless without a partner. He flows in around the vault door or whatever, the safe is there, and... now what? The way his portals work, you have to enter them with some velocity, and he can't push the safe in himself - he's barely corporeal. Exiting Breaker state kills all the portals, leaving him Just Some Guy locked inside the vault for the cops to find.

-----

Fun Facts:

One of them chose their cape name as a pun on the other's. Null would be more in-character, but Void would be funnier, so I can't decide which.

Null does not need her EMP emitter to be that big, or to look like a weapon. She's just extra (and the look on her enemies' faces when she levels a gigantic Tinkertech cannon at them, albeit as a bluff, is well worth the cost in subtlety).

Null (or rather, Nu11) has never had a copyright suit from the Yangban. She's never had ANY contact with the Yangban. She's just covering her bases.

I don't have much backstory for how they got into villainy, but I reckon one or both of them worked for hire on the Blacklist, and they ended up hired for the same job. Power and personality synergy led to them striking out as a team.

Void has more of a serious backstory and motivation, though I don't have any specifics in mind. Null is here to break shit because she gets happy shard feedback from breaking shit. The pay and cool outfits are a bonus. (She also kind of turbo-nuked her civilian ID, but she wouldn't admit to that.)

Void helps with evacuation at Endbringer fights.

Void exists for the pun and cool power synergy. Null exists for me to draw in fun sexy outfits (at least, I think they're sexy? I'm aro-ace, so not really qualified to judge). In-universe, Alicia partially created the Null cape persona to wear fun sexy outfits, as a fuck-you to the people who insinuated that if she looked or dressed differently she wouldn't have been stalked and harassed (and a fuck-you to her stalker: "I do dress slutty, just not for you").

[caker-baker]

Placate

The hero wanted to believe it was one of their friends, an agency member, someone else, anyone else, they would have taken a burglar at this point.

But no. No friend, agency member, or burglar would leave the front door open so purposefully, so dauntingly.

They knew this day would come, they just didn’t imagine it would be so soon.

The light turned on.

“Where have you been?” The villain asked from the lounge chair, petting the hero’s cat.

It was very obviously a rhetorical question, the villain knew where the hero had been, because now the villain was here, too.

The hero’s eyes flicked down to their purring cat comfortable in the villain’s lap, back up to the villain’s expectant face.

“I was–am on an assignment.” They wondered how fast they would have to be to get their cat and then get to the panic button.

Not fast enough.

If they needed to be placating, they could be. It would what drew the villain to them, they knew that now.

“An assignment that takes six months?” The villain asked, lazily waving their free hand around. “An assignment that gives you this? It’s cutesy, comfortable. Too small for my taste, but you know that.”

It was a test hidden behind poisonously pleasant words.

Will you be telling me the truth? Are you foolish enough to lie?

A question the hero didn’t want to answer, but there were limited options.

Placate, placate, placate.

“It’s my final assignment.” The hero clenched their fists, nails digging into skin, forcing upon them clarity to think, a reminder not to stutter, not to feel. “Going civilian, for my safety.”

“Oh?” The villain’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second. “Do tell. What was so dangerous that your little agency felt the need to give you an identity change?

Another test.

“It was noted that the others–other–other villains,” The hero forced themselves to take a breath in, and clenched their fists even harder. “were targeting me, thinking it would hurt you.”

“Mm.” The villain cocked their head to the side, looking at the hero in an indecipherable way.

Disappointment? Amusement? Hunger?

The hero was never able to tell.

“Well. I can admit my faults, but this is an easy fix, my darling. I’ll handle the others. Now, the car’s been running just a bit too long, so if we could?”

The villain stood, still holding the hero’s cat.

“I can’t.” The hero’s fists unclenched, wondering if their cat could be swayed to jump from the villain’s arms. “I signed a contract. If I re-emerge, I could be considered an active threat, measures would be taken against me, um, I can’t.”

The villain smiled. “Now that is a bigger problem, but I could garner a few solutions. Come along, we can even bring…” They trailed off, looking at the cat’s name tag. “Chestnut.”

“I’ll become a public enemy. I don’t own the name Hero, I just use it, I–”

“And that’s the very problem, isn’t it?” The villain let Chestnut jump from their arms, watching the hero’s shoulders relax ever so slightly. “This day and age of heroics and villainy, it’s all very theatrical. We used to do this because of values, morals, plans for world domination.”

They gave the hero a once over.

“The other heroes are good at the limelight, thrive, even, it’s the whole reason they sign the contracts and take the name, but they can’t beat you in character, and the numbers of casualties in their fights versus yours speaks volumes. You weren’t good at the attention, not until I got to you, at least.”

“And I thank you for the help, but I’m done with the cameras, interviews, the saving people.”

“What a shame. You used to talk about being a symbol, about helping people, a hero through and through, not any of that pretending you’re a movie star. It’s what makes you…”

“Malleable?”

“I was going to say unique. No need for the dramatics.”

When the hero didn’t respond, didn’t move, didn’t even look like they were breathing, the villain’s polite mask dropped.

The hero hated that, how easily the villain could switch around their personality. They also hated the villain’s unblinking eyes.

The villain could blink, the hero was sure, but whenever it was just the two of them, the villain always made sure to be constantly watching.

“As I said, I can think of a few solutions to your problems.” They held out an expectant hand. “Shall we?”

“You were using me.” The hero blurted out. “You weren’t trying to help me be better, you were–you were–”

“I was what?”

“Making me into a tool. You would have turned me into a monster.”

The villain scoffed. “A monster? Please. You would have been beloved by the world, no contract or agency could hold you, you would have been second to none.”

“Except you.” The hero noticed that Chestnut was curling around the villain’s legs, slowly realizing that their best option at this point might have been to turn heel. “I would have been second to none except you.”

The villain smiled again, though it looked more like an animal bearing their teeth in annoyance.

“Eventually not. Once we’ve finished with the others, all the theatrics and the celebrity treatment, we could begin the real work. We could be equals, my darling.”

“You were manipulating me so that you could have the perfect opponent?” The hero felt bile rise in their throat.

There was evidence of the villain using them, solid proof shown directly after that scolding from the agency for allowing a villain to mentor them, but to hear it from the villain themselves was something else entirely.

“Twist my words in whatever way you’ll have. We both win. You won’t have to worry about the performance of being a hero, you can simply go out and save the day how you like. Tell me it’s not tempting. Now, it has been a treat tracking you down, my darling, they hid you well, but I must insist we leave. There’s a long drive ahead of us.”

“No.”

Chestnut had wandered closer to the hero.

“Ah, would you prefer we fly? It’s not my favorite, but–”

“I’m not going with you.” They reached down slowly, picking up Chestnut, hoping to make it look as though they were holding her for comfort.

The villain watched, their jaw clenched, anger barely concealed.

“I made you.” They seethed through an unusually quiet voice. “And if I have to, I will break you, and build you up again.”

The hero took a step back. “Find another hero to manipulate.”

With a deep breath, the villain collected themselves, never breaking eye contact with the hero.

“You know, part of the plan was to make you fall in love with me.” They admitted, taking only a step forward to match the hero’s step back. “Or at least have you grow fond enough of me that you wouldn’t betray me so easily. But obviously, it didn’t work. Lucky for the both of us, I can work with fear. You have an abundance of that, don’t you?”

The hero turned heel.

There was no placating a villain.

[favoritebatfam]

This is more sleep, deprived rambling about the bat family. Specifically, I was thinking about combining my two hyper fixations. The DC universe and Greek mythology.

A part of me thinks that everyone in the family is a form of reincarnated soul, probably from different time periods or maybe even some of them are famous heroes. So here is part one, focusing around Tim Drake.

Tim is either Achilles or Deadulus. (I can’t remember how to spell it in Google is spelling it wrong so IDK.) this man is bright and smart, always figuring out new things, which leans into the deadest thing. He also is constantly looking for improvement, and fears being replaced, something that deadest did as well which led to the death of his nephew Perdix.

Tim as Achilles is a little different. Something not a lot of people remember is that Achilles was a general. He was a strong warrior who fought for his people yes, but he was also a general who loved. Everyone knows about the gay undertones of him and Patrocules, but there’s also just that feeling of I love someone so much that if they die, I lose them I am willing to do whatever it takes to, make sure it wasn’t in vain, or to avenge them. Tim is probably the type that would go right down to the underworld and fight for the one fighting. This has severe TimKon undertones ngl, But Tim would let the world burn for his people. That is not up for debate.

Also, Tim just feels like an old soul. I know who grew up quickly and stuff, and had to because of neglect. Still, a part of me thinks that he had to have been reincarnated or had some in Nate knowledge, otherwise I feel like he would not have survived. This boy was following the bat around with the camera as a small toddler. Even if he trained, it is very very unlikely he would not have gotten caught unless some old instinct in him helped him to hide like a soldier would.

IDK, I am hungry and tired, but now I can’t stop thinking of a version of song of Achilles where is Achilles and Kon is his Patroculus.

Edit: also, I vaguely remember something in the comics where he went kind of insane after con died and started making clones of him? Trying to bring back the one he loved? I can’t remember what he did to Kon’s enemies but, I doubt it was anything pleasant. Giving Achilles vibes.

Edit 2: I wrote this while high off sleep deprivation and am not willing to fix it so suffer