#also why the fuck is she not wearing gloves? anywhere

[delicatebluebirdruins]

I hope the lady who cleaned the graves without permission with a hoover/ harsh untested chemicals (her own brand) that will harm the stone and the environment, who chopped down a tree planted over a grave with a chainsaw, pulled out dry flowers that have no end of sentimental value and paint some of the graves and cleans the toys of dead children I hope she gets haunted and sued by the families (who she shamed for not being able to clean them. Life gets in the way, graves can be a out of your way)

and punched in the throat just because of her baby voice because oof that was grating

about a dead woman "was she pretty?"

eating a fucking cupcake in the middle of the night sitting on a strangers grave "I wonder what killed her?"

[aphroditessaturn]

𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐈𝐓, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐈𝐓 || 𝐇.

pairing || homelander × fem!reader

summary || Homelander constantly destroys your underwear to the point where you have none left. In conclusion you force him to buy you new ones and have the whole media see it.

warnings || SMUT; we've got tittie sucking, fingering, sublander (I love that word) but also domlander? p in v, unprotected sex, big load (he's a supe so ofc), rough sex, did I forget something?

note || this is my first homelander you guys and sure ain't the last... idk what my problem is with these difficult men and making them soft, please reblog/comment and give feedback!

BLOGS | WEBSITE | AO3 | WATTPAD | TAGLIST

“Yes, and tomorrow you have an interview with Fox,” Ashley told Homelander as she trailed after him, clipboard clutched in her hands. The blonde nodded, not even listening completely because his mind was already on you.

He was only meters away from you and could already hear your light humming over the music that played in the background. Ashley kept talking to Homelander’s dismay, not that he wasn’t interested, especially if she was talking about his ratings.

However, you took over his thoughts and body, god, his body longed for you. With his heavy footsteps he walked towards his penthouse and thinking about every position he would put you in.

Homelander opened the doors, and Ashley was still there. He was close to cursing her out, but stopped in his tracks once he laid eyes on you.

You stood in front of the trashcan, throwing away your lingerie. Completely naked. His eyes went wide, as naked as the day you were born you stood there.

Ashley squeaked, holding her clipboard in front of her eyes, “I’m sorry, god, I’m so, so, sorry,” she apologized profusely. Quickly she run out of the room, shocked as to what she just saw and hoped that Homelander wouldn’t punish her.

“What the fuck are you doing,” he questioned you with a glare, slowly making his way over to you.

In response you pouted at him, pushing all your destroyed lingerie into the trash, “well, you see all my pretty lingerie is destroyed and now I have to throw them all away,” you looked up at him with innocent doe eyes.

“Doesn’t explain why you’re naked,” he pressed, although Homelander didn’t mind but he hated anyone else seeing what’s his.

“I have no underwear, dummy,” you teased him with a smile, one that turned his mind around. He had known for years by now and knew exactly that you acted dumber than you actually were.

His patience was waning and he fought himself to not look at your perfectly hard nipples touching his suit coveted chest.

“I can’t even wear my plain once because my handsome boyfriend ripped them when I was on my period,” you added, acting as if you didn’t know what else to do. Your arms snaking around Homelander’s neck.

“Then buy fucking new ones and don’t let anyone see you naked,” he growled as his hands found a vice grip on your hips. “Mhm, but you know the rule. If you break it, you have to replace it,” scolded him, rubbing your breasts against his suit covered chest and pulling on his concentration.

“Fine, take my card,” Homelander hissed, he wanted to get over this topic and simply fuck you. He pushed you back against the wall, his leather gloved hand stroking along the back of your thigh.

“Don’t think so, you will come with me baby boy,” you grinned at him, hooking your leg around his torso.

Homelander didn’t like that, he couldn’t go anywhere without being recognized and how would it look if a superhero was buying lingerie?

As if you could read his thoughts – which by now you could – you pushed back, caressing his cheek while pushing him back onto the sofa. He laid back with you on top of him, still gripping your waist in a way that was sure to leave bruises.

“Imagine how good your ratings would be if you buy your pretty girlfriend all that lingerie. Men would love the control you have, and women will love seeing a devoted boyfriend,” you whispered, praising him as you moved your cunt over his clothed erection.

He released a strained groan, already painfully hard, “everyone will love you,” you whispered into his ear. You leaned down, your nipple hovering over his lips.

You knew how much he loved sucking your tits and you knew what to say to get everything you wanted.

“And don’t you wanna choose what I should wear? I’m too stup-,” “Fine, I’ll fucking go with you,” Homelander hissed and switched you around, now on top of you and his pearl white teeth bared.

Your thighs clenched, your cunt already soaking wet, but you had to suppress the smirk of triumph.

Homelander latched onto your nipple, sucking on it hungrily while his right hand kneaded your unattended breast. You threaded your hand through his gold-blonde hair, harshly tugging on his roots.

His tongue licked around your nipple before gently biting down causing you to arch your back, “John,” you moaned.

With a ‘plop’ sound he released your breast, looking up at you through his beautiful lashes.

Slowly his hand trailed down to your core, the cool leather of his glove causing goosebumps to dance along your skin. He rubbed his thumb over your clit as his attention directed towards you other breast.

You could feel his desperation, it wasn’t from the conversation just moments before, no. It was because of the other team members had gotten his last nerve, VOUGHT had gotten on his last nerve, everyone had gotten on his last nerve.

“Oh, baby,” you mused with a loving smile, taking a deep breath. The pressure on your clit increased, and your breath quickened.

John immediately picked up on your behavior, you were close to your high. He inserted his middle and ring finger inside you, “fuck,” you groaned at the new feeling of his thick fingers.

“They’re all brainless idiots, can’t do a thing right,” he gritted his teeth, curling his fingers against your g-spot. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you tried to come up with words to response, John expected it from you.

“Mhm, yeah, they’re-,” your sentence was cute off by a loud moan slipping from your lips as he bit onto your nipple.

He sucked harder, a desperate call for praise, “you’re right, they’re all brainless, but you, you’re the best of them. John, you’re smart, pretty and the greatest supe,” it rolled off your tongue naturally.

To you he was perfect, he could do no wrong and maybe you were sick in the head for thinking that.

“Make me come, please make mommy come,” you pleaded, grip still tight in his hair. Without hesitation John brought you to your orgasm, a pornographic moan fell from your mouth as you bucked your hips up to meet his thrusts.

“You did so good, you’re perfect John,” you praised as your high rushed through your blood, god you felt amazing.

Homelander reeled in your praise, he needed it to function properly. While he enjoyed, loved, controlling you, telling you what to do and not to do, John worshipped the ground you walked on.

-----

Ahley organized the press along with fans to stand in front of your favourite lingerie shop, Homelander was for once wearing something casual – you forced him to.

“It looks better, trust me,” you told him with a pointed look, “you want them to love you, don’t you?” you added, knowing this would push him over the edge.

Now he wore dark jeans, sneakers and a matching polo shirt. He had a charming smile on his face as he escorted you into the store which was empty – expect for a cashier. Never before did you have the chance of shopping private like this, online shops were your best friend.

Your man looked around, already picturing you in some of the lingerie that catched his eye. “What do you think of this one?” you asked, showing him a blue piece, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, just a baby blue lace set.

“It’s uhm, pretty,” boring, fucking boring, was what he wanted to say. You rolled your eyes playfully and continued looking around, until something unique came into your sight.

Quickly you took your size and vanished into the changing room, of course Homelander heard you and followed you curiously.

You put on the hot pink bra, the underside was see-through, and the top was decorated with flowers. The slip was the same, meaning most of your vagina was visible add to that it was connected with two strings on each side.

The accessory that made you pick it was the choker, it came with a chain that went down between your breasts and was attached to flower shaped belt which fitted your waist perfectly.

Homelander waited outside, impatiently looking around the room until you were ready. Then you opened the curtain, revealing yourself.

You smiled at him innocently, “how does this look?” you asked. He took a step towards you, hand tracing along the fabric and causing a shiver to run down your spine. Suddenly he hooked his point finger around the chain, slowly dragging you to him.

He leaned down, lips hovering over yours, “you’re playing a dangerous game little lady,” he whispered. You pouted, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly close.

“I’m not playing any game,” you told him honestly, playing with the tiny hairs on his nape. “Don’t think just because they’re many, many people out there I won’t fuck you till you can’t walk anymore,” Homelander threatened, but was it really a threat if you would enjoy every second of it?

“Promise?” you smirked and within a second you were pressed against a wall. Homelander slid his hand down to your core, in your mind you already knew what was about to happen.

With that he snapped the pink panties in half, pushing his two fingers inside you, “look at that, little slut is already wet,” he taunted you.

Your head fell back as he curled his fingertips against your cervix, his unoccupied hand came up to lift your leg around his torso.

“Does that feel good mhm? Come on let me hear you, let them hear you,” he rubbed his thumb over your clit, finally drawing a moan from you. Homelander kissed you, hard, pushing his tongue into your mouth.

He showed his dominate side, hand leaving your side to undo your hand around his neck. Slowly moving it towards his belt, a silent order to open it which you follow without hesitation.

The trousers of his suit fell to the ground, Homelander hosted you up into his arms and entering you in one stroke, giving you no time to adjust to his size – as if he ever did.

You moaned, biting your lip in pleasure. For a moment he stilled inside you, his heavy breathing hitting your skin. Slowly he moved his hips upwards, you could feel him stretching your cunt, feel him hit that spongy spot inside you.

“Fuck, you’re fucking me so good, so good,” you groaned, eyes rolling in the back of your head. Homelander grinned at you, “yes, yes, tell me how good I’m. Fucking tell me and I will let you cream all over my fat cock.”

“You’re good, fucking amazing, baby. No one compares to you, you’re so good,” you chanted as he pounded into you at a ruthless pace.

Sometimes you wondered if your cervix could form bruises, but what you knew was that it could become difficult to walk out of this store.

A tight knot formed in your stomach, pleasure building up and you gripped Homelander’s hand, guiding it towards your clit.

“That’s right, I’m fucking you and you love it, you love me. Say it, come on,” he growled, letting go of your thigh and you closed your legs around his waist, sucking his cock deeper in. You need to feel more of him.

His hand came up to your throat as you didn’t answer, stilling inside of you, “I said, tell me you love me, or I will fill you until my seed is dripping down your legs and you can’t take it anymore, but you little lady, little slut won’t get to come.”

Tears welled in your eyes, you wouldn’t even mind it and he fucking knew it, but for your own sanity you had to answer him. Play into his game, because in your sick twisted mind you enjoyed it.

“I love you, I love you so fucking much,” you whimpered, clutching your hands on his shoulders, begging him to move.

“You do, don’t you? Want me to make you come, want me to fill you up?” he asked, though he knew the answer he, wanted to hear it from you.

“Mhm, yes, want you to make me come, please, please and fill me up, I want it so bad,” you begged, and he finally moved again, rocking his hips up. They you begged him brought him closer to his high, he loved having you at his mercy, doing everything he wanted.

A pornographic moan slipped from your lips as he rubbed over your clit and hit your g-spot. You reached your high, the knot exploding and smashed your lips onto Homelander’s to muffle another moan.

He barred his teeth, releasing his cum into your cunt and his pace slowed down. “Come, paint me baby,” you whispered into his ear.

----

“These please,” you grinned at the woman working the register, letting a pile of lingerie fall onto the counter. Every sort of color and shape, nervously the woman cashed you up, “a bag?” she asked to which you nodded.

“That will be 300,36 please,” she said, “cash or card?” she added, looking at you and not daring to spare Homelander a glance.

You held out your palm to your boyfriend who huffed before putting his card into your hand, “thank you,” you said and laid the card down, then stepping aside once it signaled, “pin, “ you told him and gestured to the machine.

Homelander put in the pin while the cashier packed everything up, handing it to you, “thank you very much,” you smiled.

Finally, she found the voice to ask Homelander for an autograph, “oh, sure everything for my fans! You guys are the real hero’s,” he showed her his pearly white teeth and signed her card.

“We could do this a lot more often, go shopping together, maybe have a little lunch date,” you trailed off, teasing him.

Outside there was a lightening of reporters and fans, all wanted pictures and asked questions. In Homelander style and because of Vought, he answered some of them, but he had to keep himself together.

"What is it like to have such a devoting boyfriend?"

"Anything else you do for your girlfriend?"

"How is you future looking? The two of you are a beautiful couple!"

"Thank you, thank you! The future is bright and what my girl wants she gets, there is truly nothing I won't give her," he smiled at them brightly. You posed for pictures, getting bolder with every flash.

Homelander wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side to whisper in your ear. "You better behave little lady, I will punish you until you can't walk a fuckinf millimetre."

"Promise?"

please reblog/comment and give feedback! I would love to know if you like my Homelander fics, I have so many ideas

BLOGS | WEBSITE | AO3 | WATTPAD | TAGLIST

[bubuslutty]

Day 2: I 💜 DILFS

All Parts

pairing: angel/demon fem!reader x 141

word count: 2.2k

tags: semi-canon compliant, no use of y/n, reader is referred to as 'Angel', 3rd person pov, minimal description of appearance, proofread by me so sorry for any mistakes

warning: none

summary: This is day 2 of meeting 141 and Angel starts her assignment, officially.

a/n: can u tell im British when reading? sometimes I accidentally spell words in the American way cuz English is my third language but I swear I live in the UK 😀

It was Saturday, and Angel didn't have to be anywhere. After getting settled in her new home, she woke up excited to start her assignment officially. She stared at her huge wardrobe and at the ridiculous amount of accessories. Hands on her naked hips and hair sticking to her face and neck, she was humming while her cat, Kuromi, was making biscuits on the unmade bed.

“What should I wear today?” She mused out loud, the sunlight coming from her bedroom window warming her semi-wet skin pleasantly. She grabbed a very short jean skirt and held it in front of Kuromi, “What about this?” She asked, laughing.

“You’re right, this is not very grocery shopping friendly.” She nodded, putting the skirt away and grabbed a pair of baggy jeans, underwear and stopped herself before reaching for a bra. Her eyes landed on a cropped t-shirt that fit her like a glove. She grinned while holding the garment in front of her, “Oh, yeah, I’m wearing you today, and no bra.”

Angel giggled, while Kuromi was busy playing with a loose thread she found on the floor.

.

.

.

“Alright, lads, who wants to go to Tesco with me?” Price asked while wearing his wristwatch, already dressed to go out.

“Me!” Gaz exclaimed, looking up from his phone on the couch and running upstairs to get his hoodie and a jacket.

“Ghost, are you going?” Soap asked the man, who was watching a random show on the TV.

“No, are you?” Ghost said, looking over at the man.

“Yeah, I want some snacks. They provided us with old people food before sending us here, no offence, Captain, I want some chocolate and biscuits.” Soap complained, slipping on his jacket, making Ghost chuckle.

“Fuck off, Johnny.” Price said, without looking up from checking his wallet.

“D’you need anything, Simon?” Gaz asked when he walked back down, fixing his hood over his head and checking he had his phone on him.

“No, thanks, Gaz.” Ghost shook his head and shifted his attention back to the TV.

“Alright, if you need anything, call us. Let’s go.” Price said to Ghost who hummed in acknowledgement and the three walked out of the house, closing the door behind them.

“I call dibs on the passenger seat!” Soap quickly said, making Gaz laugh, the two walked towards the car in their driveway before Price’s voice made them look back.

“You’re alright, there?”

Price was standing with the car keys in his hands, looking at his very attractive neighbour, who was frowning down at her phone, standing in front of her door dressed so much more casually than the first time they met.

When Angel heard him, she lifted her head and immediately smiled, “Oh, hi! I’m just trying to get myself an Uber but the app’s acting up.”

“Where are you going? Maybe we can drop you off if it’s on our way...” Price suggested, and completely missed how both Gaz and Soap glanced at each other, smirking.

“Aw, that’s so sweet. But I’m just going to Tesco’s, I need to buy a few things so don’t bother yourself with that, I can try again on the app.” Angel said, sheepishly laughing.

“Oh, we’re going there too!” Soap loudly said, making Gaz grin when Price took a deep breath.

“Yeah, we also need to buy a few things, come with us!” Gaz said, grinning and looking at his Captain then his hot neighbour.

“That would be amazing! if you don’t mind of course.” Angel said, looking at Price and his eyes widened, "Why would I mind? Come on, get in."

When Price unlocked the car, Soap opened the passenger's seat door wide and spread one of his arms, "Please, allow me." He said in an overly posh accent which made Angel laugh.

"Thank you, Johnny." She smiled and got in, buckling herself in.

When everyone buckled in, Price started the car and drove out of the driveway. "Which Tesco's are we going to, by the way?"

"We're going to take the M25 and go to the one outside the area. Is that alright?" Price said, stealing a quick glance at the woman seated next to him.

"Wait, isn't that far? Aren't we in inner London?" Angel frowned, confused.

"No, love. We live in the outer circles, it's only going to take us 20 minutes to get there if there's no traffic." Price said.

"Sorry, first time living here." Angel apologised, feeling sheepish.

"It's alright, you don't have to apologise." Price said, making her smile.

"Sorry to interrupt, but am I dreaming or does your t-shirt say 'I heart DILFS'?" Soap asked, leaning forward from his seat at the back.

Both Gaz and Price seemed to be taken back by the question and also very surprised. Angel glanced down at her t-shirt and smirked, "Yeah, it does."

Right as the words left her mouth, Gaz started laughing and Soap had a stupid grin on his face. "That's an interesting choice of clothing, don't ya think?"

"I bought it as a joke.." Angel said, glancing at Price.

"But do you actually love dilfs? That's the most important question, don't ya think so, Captain?" Soap asked, radiating mirth and mischief.

Price glanced at the rear-view mirror and glared at Soap, who didn't seem to be intimated one bit.

"I don't know, maybe?" Angel shrugged while wearing a grin.

Then Angel felt a little evil all of a sudden, and cleared her throat, "Do you know what a dilf is, John?"

In reality, she wore that t-shirt because it reminded her of John. She knows he doesn't have children, he's not even married, never was for that matter. But in the mortal realm, young humans are fascinating on the Internet. Angel when she's bored, she opens up her laptop and accesses the servers on the planet, and sees what they're up to.

Imagine her surprise when she witnessed young mortals calling older celebrities, both men and women, dilfs and milfs just because they were older and attractive. They often claim the label doesn't necessarily mean the said person is a father or mother. Most of the time, it's just pure vibes, and it's honestly just for shits and giggles.

She bought the t-shirt a while back, before even getting her task force 141 wish assignment, and was surprised to find that John Price, could be in fact, considered a dilf.

John isn't even old, he's 37 and would look so much younger than he actually was if he didn't go through so much stress and difficult work for so many years. Either way, Angel isn't even bothered by his age because at the end of the day, she was older than all of the men, ages combined. But obviously didn't look like it, due to her immortal nature. Her files say she's 25 this time, so there's that.

"How can I not? You learn all sorts of new things when you're around someone like Johnny." He said and heard Soap gasp at the back, offended and demanding what did that mean.

Angel grinned at that and remembered to ask them something. "I have a question; Why did Johnny call you captain?"

"We work together." Price answered while Gaz and Soap were watching them in silence.

"Can I guess what work you do?" Angel grinned. She already knew their occupation, but she had to ask, had to play her cards right, use everything to get closer to them and build a mutual trust between them.

"Alright, guess." Price shrugged.

"Okay, uhm, are you….. Rugby players?!"

All three men seemed surprised at her guess, "Rugby players? Haven't heard that one before." Gaz said.

"I mean Rugby teams have a captain, right?" Angel mused.

"Aye, they do." Soap confirmed.

"And you're all very big and strong, so it's very likely you're part of a rugby team." Angel said proudly, with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Ah, makes sense." Gaz nodded, grinning. He imagined his team and himself in the field, wearing tight jerseys and shorts, knees muddy and sweating. It would be fun, playing all together in the base against the rookies to encourage teamwork and healthy competitiveness.

"We'd make a killer team, no?" Soap looked at Gaz who nodded.

"We're not a Rugby team." Price chuckled, making Angel's smile drop.

"You're not? What a shame. Well, I only had two guesses, so that only leaves me with one." Angel pouted.

"What is it?" Gaz asked, looking at her cute frown and shiny pink lips.

"Pirates.." She mumbled, glancing at Price who started laughing.

"Pirates? Why?" Soap laughed.

"First of all, you call him captain, and your said captain has a beautiful beard, not to be stereotypical or anything.." Angel explained making Gaz grin.

"My beard?" Price said, running a hand through it.

"You laughed, so I'm going to assume I was wrong." She said, acting slightly frustrated at guessing wrong.

"You do have a beautiful beard, Captain." Soap smirked, reaching at the front to squeeze the man's shoulder.

"If you said, marines, you would still be wrong but still close." Gaz said, making her eyes widen.

"Really?"

"We're in the army, special forces." Price finally said, glancing at the civilian woman next to him.

"Okay, yeah, my guesses were very wrong." Angel blushed, embarrassed.

Now that they revealed their occupation by themselves, she can get to reveal her occupation and make them share their nicknames. She knows that they're only living next to her for work, for random short breaks, away from their families. And she knows they would prefer for her to use their field names, to protect their privacy but also her, as a civilian, to some extent. The only reason they haven't given them to her yet is to not weird her out. But they'll get to it, Angel will make sure of it.

"Are all of you special forces? Even Simon? Speaking of which, is he alright?" Angel asked and watched them tense up a bit and internally smirked, they're protective.

"What do you mean is he alright?" Soap asked, raising a brow. He thinks she's talking about his mask, maybe thinks she sees Simon as weird. Even though that's ridiculous, he was wearing a surgical mask when she first saw him, and normal people would probably assume he had a cold and didn't want to pass it on. But she knows Ghost's team is used to him wearing his skull mask more often than not, and probably forgot he wasn't wearing one that day.

How adorable are they?

"All of you are out except him." Angel said, voice brimming with innocence and genuine concern.

She noticed how the tension left their bodies and looked at Price for explanation.

"He's alright, just wanted to rest at home. And to answer your question, yes we're all in special forces, we're just here for work." Price said, making her nod.

"What do you do for a living?" Gaz asked, changing the subject.

"I'm a sex therapist and PhD student." She said.

"That's amazing! What's your field of research?" Price asked, glancing at her and back at the road.

"Psychology." Angel revealed, smiling proudly.

The funny thing about realising wishes, is that lying becomes so easy. You get given a scenario to follow, a character to study and become. And then manage to slowly become that character to the point where your reactions are genuine while your mind is fully aware that you're not who you say you are. It's an act, and a really good one at that.

You're even incapable of feeling guilty over lying to humans. Because Wish angels are gifted with powers that allow them to achieve almost anything and everything. I lied about knowing the Royal family? The Wish Office will temporarily tamper with history, memory and fate and manage to make you exist in the mind of the royals, as if they always knew you. It's an incredible power, completely able to create and destroy anything and everything.

But luckily, Wish angels have no interest to mess up with the humans beyond realising their wishes. They can tamper with time and memory, but after their assignment is completed, everything will return to normal, with the exception of the realised wish.

And so far, Angel hasn't felt the need to use any of her powers on the men. And she doesn't think she will any time soon.

"That's very impressive, the dedication you have is admirable." Gaz said and Johnny agreed, nodding.

Angel flushed at the compliment, "I'm just trying my best, but thank you either way."

The car was enveloped in comfortable silence, the big superstore now in view when Soap spoke.

"Why do you prefer Angel instead of Angela?"

Angel smiled, "There was a girl who had the same name as me back in primary school, and since then, I was always called Angel to differentiate us. It feels natural to be called Angel, instead of Angela. That's what I prefer at least."

"Well, in that case call me Soap." Johnny said, grinning.

"Soap.. It's nice, you have to tell me the story behind it one day." She smiled.

"Maybe." Soap winked.

"Call me Gaz instead of Kyle, please." Gaz added.

"Of course, Gaz is a pretty name." Angel turned to look at the man who flushed.

"What about you, Captain?" Angel turned to Price as he parked the car in the huge parking lot in front of Tesco.

"You can just call me John." He said, smiling at her.

"And Simon?"

"Simon will tell you his own nickname."

tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @obiwankenobis-lap @goapgrim @smalldemonlover @loveyhoneydovey @cutiecusp @pinkwigonmytv @mandythemint @itsberrydreemurstuff @tapioca-marzipan @fruitymoonbeams-blog @poohkie90 @chaoticevilbakugo @anubis-reed @thefairybird @skytacvia @marytvirgin @cynicalmnm @maechanexe @t0jis-worm @1800imgay

[randomthefox]

The only difference between pre and post Genesis wave sally is that post Genesis wave finally gave the filthy harlot some clothes.

Before that Sally the harlot was prancing around naked hoping seduce men and brainwash them into being her simps in comic that's ostensibly supposed to be for kids.

Honestly this design is somehow even worse than her original look. What the fuck were they thinking with a tight crop top vest, an exposed midrif, and booty shorts with off color hems? And why are her clothes blue? She looks like a turd floating in an airplane septic tank. And don't even get me started on the hair.

like who do they think they're kidding?

Honestly I can't fucking stand the way the comics dress up their female characters

none of the female characters IN THE GAMES dress like this.

Amy just has her red dress and is constantly flashing her god damn panties at the screen in Sonic Adventure. It's simple and modest, one primary color red which is the same gradient as her body color, with a white offstripe. Her outfit is all one solid aspect of her design.

Cream and Vanilla just have simple dresses, Cream's in particular practically looks like the kind of thing kids of all genders would wear back in Mark Twain's days. An orange childrens dress with a blue ribbon to provide a splash of variety to her mostly tone gradient consistent look, and they even have the detail of buttons on her gloves to add a sense of extra propriety to her design which fits how prim and polite she's supposed to be.

Blaze wears a royal smock and leggings, she probably has the most "going on" with her outfit which feels appropriate since she's a princess but it's still practical. Notice how it leaves her legs nice and exposed for the sake of all her running around.

Wave wears sensible sports clothes, very form hugging pants and a small and tight top that leaves her midriff exposed - the purple flames at the bottoms of the leggings provide a splash of personality. What she's wearing is meant to provide function over form. Also note that her clothes are all white except for the purple flames, providing a distinct contrast to her body which is differing shades of purple.

Rouge has worn many different outfits over her tenure but she's most well known for the catsuit which is very appropriate for her job as a thief. It looks like the kind of thing Cat Woman would wear, an extremely tight form fitting latex body suit that leaves nothing to chance, and showing plenty of skin. And her personality is distinctly conveyed with the pink boob chest piece and stark white heart tipped boots.

The ONLY character who is dressed anywhere even REMOTELY similarly to Sally in the reboot is Marine since she's also wearing a shoulderless top and shorts. But Marine's actually compliments her color, green against the orange of her body, and it goes from the green of her top to the black of her shorts without any break in the middle. Her top and her bottom are also not the same color, even her gloves are colored differently, adding a lot of visual contrast which informs the chaotic nature of her character.

So yeah Sally looks like shit and doesn't even remotely fit in with the actual Sonic girls. Get rid of her.

[one-vivid-judgment]

Hiya! Butler/Mistress RP headcanons with Tomi and his s/o 🙈 🙉 🙊 Thx!

Me: Oh hell yeah, I'm posting something fluffy tonight!

Also me when I remembered this, needing the pretty, pathetic man ruined: Ah shit, here we go again 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

“Remind me why I said yes to this stupid ass bet.”

“Because you let your dick do the thinking. Now you gotta walk the walk, honey.”

Tomi groans. You chuckle, making yourself comfortable in the backseat.

He looks so out of his element like this: in a suit, wearing actual shoes and even gloves. You didn’t quite manage to get him to neatly groom his hair, but you can’t be asking too much of him in that regard. He’s already gonna do everything you ask of him for a day—that’s what your bet was all about: you played darts and whoever lost had to do the winner’s bidding for an entire day. And against all odds, it was you who won. You’re pretty sure Tomi is cursing the day he taught you how to play in his head as he drives you to the Anaconda shopping centre.

The butler outfit was just a joke at first. You had never seen Tomizawa in a suit before, and since he would be acting as your servant for the day, you thought it would only be appropriate if he dressed up like one. Oh, he tried to whine his way out of that one, but ended up complying in the end. He is a man of his word, after all.

And oh, how happy you are that he is.

All things considered, you’re not too mean to him. You don’t make him pay for the new clothes or makeup, knowing that he’s no exactly the wealthiest man—you do make him carry your bags though, and you do take your sweet, sweet time looking through every shop. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, but utters no complaints out loud. You treat him to hot dogs for lunch later for being such a good boy. Not movie theatre ones, like the ones you know he loves, but he likes it nonetheless, if the pleased little hums he makes as he eats.

Almost as cute as the ones he makes back home, when you tell him to drop to his knees and eat you out.

You never agreed on whether he had to call you some special names or not, but the way he moans “Mistress” when you tug at his hair to pull him closer and get his tongue in deep is enough to make you decide “Oh yeah, that’s what I want you to call me.”

And call you Mistress he does. He even endures some lighthearted teasing.

“You poor thing, you’re so hard already! You sure you won’t come right away?” He groans. It makes you laugh. “Oh well, you’ll just have to fuck Mistress until she comes, too.”

Tomi is not usually so eager to get off, except when he comes home full of pent up stress—that’s when he starts spewing absolute filth and treating you more roughly. This time, although eager, he is also more... sensitive, as it were. Submissive, would be the word. It’s you saying the dirtiest things in his ear, and the way he whimpers as he thrusts inside gets you going like nothing else.

He makes sure you come first and then even asks Mistress for permission to come. And you didn’t know you wanted to hear him beg like that, but he did anyway, and oh, fuck, he sounds absolutely heavenly. It would make you want to go for a round two immediately afterwards, but the poor thing looks too exhausted for that. So, you just give him a kiss and thank him for everything he’s done for you today; you’ll return the favor by being his maid one of these days, you say.

“Oh, hell yeah! You bet I’m holding you to that!”

[ynmnrmt]

You & Me & Rhea Makes Three: Chapter 3

rhea ripley x m!reader x m!reader's girlfriend

word count: 2,450

warnings: explicit sexual content

a/n: Warning! Contains enthusiastically consensual heterosexual sex between two people in a committed relationship. Reader discretion advised!

(The story so far: chapter one, chapter two)

Rhea holds the pot upside down over the sink to scrape at the rice that encrusts the inside from a different angle. "This would really piss me off," she says lightly, "but that was a fucking beautiful risotto."

"I love him for the sex," says Jennifer, as she dries off the plates, "but I'm going to marry him for the cooking."

"I am here," you say, and as you reach for the forks to put them away Jennifer rests her head lovingly on your shoulder for a moment. "If I said that about you they'd put me away."

"Alright, there's the ass, too," she shoots back, ribbing you physically, she presses up against you as much as she can while side to side. Rhea laughs at that.

"I think I'd love you for the cooking," muses Rhea fondly, distractedly, while she chisels a long curl of solid rice off the pan, "but marry you for the sex...alright, why would you marry Jen?" she asks you.

"Legs," you say instantly, which is not the real reason.

"But Rhea's are bigger than mine," whines Jennifer. "And stronger, too."

"So what? I still like them," you say, and favour her with a kiss, right on top of her head.

"I could be maid of honour," suggests Rhea, "although I could also be best man."

"I sort of pictured you as the officiant," says Jennifer, "because you'd tell us to kiss and then we'd do it, and, now I'm just thinking about you in a tux, I hope you're happy."

"I am," you supply, raising a hand with a cup still in it, and then you all laugh, and as you do Rhea flicks some soap suds at Jennifer, and they splatter on your hands too. Somehow the gentle rattle of the washing-up in the sink seems deeply nourishing to you.

Then Rhea’s phone rings, she wiggles one hand from its glove to answer it, and she says nothing, just listens. When she hangs up it is with a sudden look of disquiet. She turns back to you and Jennifer and says “I’m sorry, I have to be somewhere very soon and – could you guys oil me up before I go? I know this is really awkward, and-”

“No, no problem,” you hear yourself say.

“Yeah, I don’t mind,” adds Jennifer at practically the same time.

“Really? Aw, you guys are the best,” declares Rhea, and immediately pulls off the other glove before stripping off her shirt, and it turns out you were right, she wasn’t wearing a bra today. It’s only when Jennifer plops the tub of body oil down on the table that you realise you’ve been standing there, completely hypnotised by Rhea’s immaculate torso. She giggles at that – then shuffles out of her cargo pants and underwear, too. You want to be blasé and casual about this, you’ve seen it all before after all, but it’s just as exciting as it was that first time. But the faint lustful tremors in your muscles, the lingering arousal, that was all already there while you were washing up.

Jennifer takes a palmful of oil, and you do too, and you both approach Rhea in a pincer movement, coming in on both sides of her as if to surround her completely. And you do, eagerly greasing all the way around one powerful arm, one long sweep from her shoulder to her wrist – then you take your time about it, to make sure you didn’t miss anywhere, and, yes, to spend a bit more time touching her. By the time you pass her shoulder and get onto the taut musculature of her back you start to worry she’ll be late.

But it turns out that Jennifer’s lingering even longer over her task, because you’re the first to sink to one knee and start on Rhea’s legs, those thighs that seem to fit so naturally in your hands even though you can hardly take hold of them. Is it that, or is it that your hands crave the warmth of being against her fine inked skin? As you swish oil up the inside of her thigh, without meaning to, you brush her pussy and she yelps.

“Oh! Sorry, Rhea, I didn’t mean to…”

“I don’t mind,” she shrugs, that initial shock given way to her now-familiar warmth. “In fact,” and Jennifer looks between you and her, horror and lust rolled into one, “why don’t you do it a little more, and charge me up a bit? Give me something to look forward to? I did think that since you’ve been so nice oiling me up, maybe when I’m back you could oil me down as well.”

“Well, um,” Jennifer chokes, her fingers wavering on Rhea’s sculpted abs, “yeah, maybe that would be nice?”

So you give Rhea a brisk rub, pretend even to yourself you haven’t just pawed at her legs like you were trying to soften them up for dinner. You cannot bear to meet Jennifer’s eyes, even though she gave you the go-ahead. When her hands touch yours, to ease Rhea’s booty shorts over the lovely swell of her ass, you sigh with relief that this has not gone too far, that you have not revolted her with your own desire.

As you wrestle the buckles of Rhea’s bodice into place, you cannot quite avoid touching her some more. There is no clear delineation between the corded muscle of her pectorals and the softer tissue of her breasts, and you do not care. At least Jennifer is here next to you and clearly enjoying the process too.

“Thank you,” says Rhea, sweeter than should be possible for anyone wearing that much black leather. “I think this is my favourite part, when I’m all sparkly and shiny like this…” She wiggles slightly and Jennifer’s nails dig into your palm, you gasp, more from the thrill than the pain. Then Rhea’s phone jingles again and she swears incredibly loudly before she rushes out the door, promising as she does that she’ll be back soon and blowing you several kisses each.

Your gaze slides sideways to Jennifer – but you cannot meet her eyes, because she’s rested her head on your shoulder. “Well,” you attempt, “that was-”

“We ought to finish the washing-up,” she says quickly, and she’s probably right. But instead of moving back to the sink, she casually takes out another gob of oil. “Would you do me, too?”

“Yes!” It comes out like a confession, like a cry for help. As your slippery fingers undo the buttons of her blouse you find yourself gabbling “I’m glad you understand, I wouldn’t do it if you weren’t okay, I only want to make you happy,” and you splodge greasy stains onto the material of her bra.

“Do my legs, like,” Jennifer’s voice catches for a second, “like you did hers.”

“You don’t need to compare yourself to her,” you insist, back on your knees, undoing her zipper. “Rhea’s sexy, fine, I love you.” For all that you feel guilty about everything you’ve done with Rhea, when Jennifer’s pants come off there’s a darker stain down at the very tip of her underwear, it’s not as if you were the only one who enjoyed it. You blot it out with the oil as your hands ring around her thigh, this way you don’t have to think about it – and as you go up and down her leg you feather it with kisses, wanting to make it somehow more special for her.

*

You lie alone on the bed, and worry that this is how it will be when the other shoe drops, for there must be another shoe, somewhere, then Jennifer’s voice floats in through the door “Okay! Ready!”

So you cover your eyes, there’s her soft footsteps, and when you look again you gape, you nearly laugh, but that couldn’t possibly be appropriate. Jennifer’s posing there with her body wrapped up in spiked black leather that doesn’t come close to fitting properly, she’s wearing one of Rhea’s outfits.

“What do you think?”

“I think,” you say, rising from the bed to take her in your arms, “it looks even better on you.”

“Don’t lie,” she insists, and rests her head on your chest. The outfit pokes you a bit, now’s not the time to complain though, so you lay her carefully down on the bed. She pulls at your clothes, and you fumble with Rhea’s, not exactly sure how to get them off Jennifer or if they’re even the right way round.

While Jennifer’s far from naked, you can see a lot of her skin, and that excites you the same way as the first time, too. Perhaps that’s why your hands fumble, why this buckle is getting away from you. “Didn’t these have a zipper?” you ask, and have to reposition yourself to get the shorts past Jennifer’s knee. With them confined to only one ankle, you settle down again, but things keep going wrong – you accidentally trap a strand of her hair, and then as you’re still partway through the muffled apology she manages to poke you in an especially sensitive area.

“I want this to be good for you,” she protests limply, in such a way to break your heart a little, and, less pleasantly, put off your erection. “That’s why I wore this stuff, I wanted…”

“You didn’t need to,” you insist, trying to get some life back into it, “you are good for me,” and in tribute to that fact you kiss her, touch her in special places where you’ve shared many happy hours before, somehow it all seems wrong, as if it bounces off the black leather armour she’s inexplicably brought between you.

“Please fuck me hard,” she whispers, and with your blood flowing again, you do, you’ve found a position where you’re hardly being poked by the metal studs at all – a little poke about the entrance, she’s sopping wet, which is a relief, and then in with all your might. For a few strokes of steadily mounting pleasure it seems like it’s going well, Jennifer gives out her breathy squeaks of enjoyment – but then it turns into a squeal, her hand is on your chest, you back off instantly and in a wretched voice she says “Too hard.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, not sure how best to comfort in this situation, “I should have-”

“No, I’m sorry,” she shoots back immediately. “I said to go hard, and then – oh God, I’m sorry, I’m no good at this.”

“Hey, hey, come here,” and you hold her, firmly ignoring the twenty-seven different places the spikes have got you. “You don’t need to be sorry. I don’t want to hurt you, I just want...what if we tried this?” As she feels your mutual centre of gravity rotate, she giggles nervously but excitedly, and when she eventually winds up on top she does look a lot more cheerful. “This way, you can decide how hard we go.” And you try to ignore the valence of a woman in black leather riding you, perhaps you both would have arrived here anyway, without any kind of outside inspiration.

Jennifer takes hold of your cock and hovers about over it, trying to get everything lined up like she’s parking a car. Then she drops, and thank God, it goes straight in rather than taking her whole dead weight on top of it. It still knocks the wind out of you, but the noise of delight she makes, the way she convulses inside, you don’t really mind.

You grasp her hips, help her to bounce, your touch hungry for her skin and only slightly distracted by the feel of the black leather along the edge of your finger. This, you decide, is just for you, you and Jennifer, nobody else, and when Rhea returns that will be something completely different.

Before long she flops down over you, and there again the sting of the studded outfit, which in fairness to Rhea wasn’t really meant for a performance like this. You rub your cheek against Jennifer’s, too close for eye contact. She still wriggles about with the back half of her her body, around the immovable rod of your cock, and whimpers and moans out her response as she does.

Normally, you think, you would have come by now. You’d at least be in the region, but as Jennifer shifts up and down you find yourself just lying there like an inanimate object. She still excites you, of course she does, there is still the amazement that she’s letting you do this to her – so why does it not feel the way it used to?

Still wary of being too rough, of doing anything she might not like, you start to thrust as well. She trills like a bird, and breathily in your ear splutters out “Oh fuck – oh fuck – I want you to come, please come” before she degenerates into meaningless noises of relief while her pleasure spatters in droplets on your thighs and stomach.

You clutch her to you, the black leather warm in your hands over the little body inside it, and as one long gasp emanates from the depths of her throat there it is, the inescapable tipping point, she is pressed into the bedclothes but you see her face in your mind’s eye, and you see Rhea’s, too, the darkly made-up smile, the whole orgasm squirts up into Jennifer as for a second you waver between who exactly it is you’re fucking. She comes back into focus with the tail-end spasms of her own climax.

“I love you,” you tell her – too hastily, as if you have something to hide. Her mouth is wet on your neck, either the tenderest kiss or just a bit of dribble.

As you lie there, cooling on the bedclothes, Jennifer snuggles in very close to confess “I thought about Rhea, a little bit, not the whole time...I’m so sorry.”

“That’s okay,” you say, thinking back on how this was meant to just be for you and her, so much for that. “I’m glad you think she’s sexy. It would make all this very awkward if you didn’t.”

“I really liked it, when we all went to the supermarket together the other day,” she drowses, no, not upset now, not that, “because it was sort of that thing, the thing of the everyday, with...I really want this to work for us.” You give her a little squeeze, and then a lot of a squeeze. “I mean, you want Rhea to be part of this relationship, don’t you? You’d like that, right?”

“Well, yes,” you begin.

“Then that’s good, then.”

[horrendous-bisexual-showdown]

Poll 4

Lennan Hardy (He/Him) by @tomatoclown

Why Should Your OC Win?

He’s so pathetic. He’s thirty years old, he’s obsessed with balloons, he’s a slut, he’s touch averse, he’s a hopeless romantic, he fell in love with a straight man and a lesbian back to back (both his friends), he’s vain, he had half his face burned in an accident, he made a deal with a maybe malicious definitely not human entity??? he goes to brothels all the time but he insists on wearing gloves, he sucks soldiers dicks on the docks but refuses to let people kiss him on the mouth. he fell in love with ANOTHER straight man (who hates his guts). His best friends are a couple that he third wheels to and an aro ace icon who understands zero of his problems.

What is Your OC Like?

Lennan is tall man, black hair, blue eyes. He always cared much for his appearance and he was absolutely a momma’s boy and she fed his vanity a lot. He grows up to be a handsome man, athletic, a fantastic pilot, with a family that loves him, plenty of women in line to marry him (some of which he courted a few times if you know what I mean) and a best friend that he adores, who he has known since he was a child since they were neighbors. Alas, he falls in love with his friend who is very very straight, he starts going out into town more often to try to forget him, fails spectacularly, his friend starts getting suspicious, his friend is going to get MARRIED and wants Lennan as the best man, they have a HUGE argument where all of the truth comes out (of the closet). His friend gets surprised and ends up reacting badly, people have heard and they start to gossip about Lennan, he tries to drown it out by working, gets in a plane crash, burns half his face. And now, with his life falling apart, Lennan meets Jora, who introduces him to a suspicious man who promises Lennan freedom. Lennan takes the deal and becomes the creature Lust, one of the seven sins (interestingly, Lust is the most human looking of the sins, showing Lennan’s vanity). He falls for Jora, who’s Gluttony, but she’s super gay so that doesn’t go anywhere. He spends a long time going all out in this life given to him, really leaving it up to the name lust and never thinking about the past, until Avery comes along and helps him notice that the ‘real’ Lennan is neither the man with a perfect life he was before nor the creature Lust, but somewhere in between. then they get married or whatever. i don’t fucking know.

Mick Venus (He/Him) by @biracy

Why Should Your OC Win?

He's kinda smarmy, a little salacious, and very, very stupid. He's an okay guy but he's ultimately kind of an idiot who somehow stumbled into "music pioneer" status. He's also just unfathomably bisexual. Definitely had a much rowdier, "horrendous", dangerous life before he met his wife and kinda settled down. Quote my gf, "he contains multitudes. Multitudes of drugs and stuff"

What is Your OC Like?

He's an 80s glam metal rockstar, a biker, a trans icon who manages to stay "stealth" bc he's just So stupid that no one believes him when he says these scars are from when he cut his tits off. Married an opera singer and doesn't really know what opera is. Began as like a 70s lesbian separatist hippie singer when he was a kid and grew into "trans bisexual glam metal" as an adult.

[rosietrace]

『 A little too distracted 』

Ocs featured: Maria Alarik, Noor Jawahir(Both by @windbornearchon), Lancelot Novellion, Davis Novellion

Pairing(s): Maria x Lance, Noor, Davis

Synopsis: It was meant to just be a normal day together. So why was Maria trying to avoid looking anywhere below Lance's collarbone?

Warning(s): Maria being thirsty, Noor being shameless about being thirsty, Davis /j, Lance being oblivious (affectionate), potentially ooc

{ Apologies for any out of character moments }

[ Reblogs > Likes ]

♝•°•═════ஓ๑【 ♚ 】๑ஓ═════•°•♝

▹ †𝆤࿙๋࿙࿚⊱♚⊰࿙࿚๋࿚𝆤† Lancelot Novellion, the servant

How this situation even happened? Well, that was honestly beyond Maria's comprehension at this point.

The original plan was to just, y'know, watch her boyfriend - Lance - spar with his older brother. Said older brother also brought along his girlfriend, Noor. A double date, of sorts.

After sparring, they all probably would've gone their separate ways and done their own thing together. Noor and Davis would be bitching about everyone - and each other -, and Maria and Lance would get some quality time together playing…. Chess, or something. Watching a movie was also on the table.

That was meant to happen. Not…. Whatever actually happened.

Maria sat down next to Noor on the bench of the arena. She was simultaneously bewildered and unsurprised that RSA even had a training arena.

Noor whistled. “Well damn, looks like Davis is showing off,” she murmured just loud enough for only Maria to hear.

Maria arched a brow. “Are….. Are you checking him out?”

“Well, obviously, what did you think I was doing? Gawking at the concrete?” Noor shot back with a shameless grin. “Besides, you'd be checking out your boyfriend if given the chance.”

“That's too bold of an assumption, don't you think?”

“Nope. Not really, I just know that you know that we both know that both Novellion brothers are our water for even the hottest of deserts.”

Maria scrunched her nose at the implications. “Noor, I knew you were straightforward, but still-”

She was cut off. “Sorry, bloody Mary, but I say what I wanna say,” her eyes softened a little, upon seeing Davis preparing his blade for the match. “.... I guess that's what made me fall for him.”

Maria chuckled in amusement, endeared by the fact that - no matter how much she makes fun of him - Noor loves Davis. In a way, it reminded her of how Lance loved her.

Speaking of Lance….

Noticing that Maria wasn't paying much attention, Noor smirked deviously. “Speak of the devil,” she crossed her arms, giving the girl right next to her the side eye.

Confused, Maria looked in the direction Noor was looking and felt her jaw almost drop to the ground.

It was obviously Lance, Maria knew that much. But what was so shocking was that, well, he was wearing a tank top. His blazer was tied around his waist, and he was wearing the fingerless gloves that Maria had bought for him during one of their little shopping sprees.

He was breathtaking, and Maria practically felt her face go red upon seeing how well his body fit into the tank top.

Noor's smirk widened. “Aren't you the one who called me too ‘bold��?” she just barely managed to stifle her laughter. “Looks like the tables have turned on ya, Maria.”

Before she could retort back, Maria's head whipped towards Lance as he sent her a wave - And a gentle smile.

As a response, Maria waved back, smiling as well. Sure, she was a little flustered and this was a bit too uncharacteristic of her to do, but it wasn't like she was gonna be like this the whole time, right?

Wrong. Absolutely fucking wrong.

The moment Davis and Lance started sparring, all Maria's mind could do was take her back to the sight of Lance's muscles tensing as the grip on his sword tightened itself.

She gulped. This feels embarrassing…. She thought.

Not the fact that Lance was sparring, per se. More so the fact that she was shamelessly watching him - or more specifically, his arms - so intently.

Noor was a different story. Compared to Maria, who was trying to be discreet, she was utterly shameless.

She whistled loudly. “WOO! KICK HIS ASS, DAVY JONES!” Noor exclaimed, eyes sparkling as Davis deflected the thrusting of Lance's sword with his leg.

As a reply, Davis grunted with a determined grin. “Depends on the results of this match, Apollonia!” he parried another one of his brother's attacks.

Giggling, Noor rested her head on her hand. “Arrogant dork..” the tenderness in her voice contradicted what she said.

And Maria? Well……

In comparison, she was more or less silently cheering Lance on. It was better than accidentally loudly proclaiming how well-toned he was.

As the match reached its end, Lance dug his sword into the ground, now on one knee with his head hung low and his hands tightly gripping the blade's handle.

Davis panted, sheathing his sword back into its holster. “You did well, brother,” he declared, offering Lance a hand. “Although I doubt you'll be able to beat me any time soon.”

Lance huffed, accepting his brother's hand, and stood up. “We'll see about that, Davis.”

Letting go of his hand, Davis shrugged. “I'm not the one breathing heavily like they ran a marathon.”

Shaking his head, Lance bit back a smile of endearment. They both called off the match, declaring it a tie (even though Davis wanted himself to win).

Lance approached Maria while Davis walked up to Noor. He was adjusting his gloves, noticing how much they shifted in their position while he was sparring.

“How was I? I hope I didn't worry you too much,” Lance asked, his voice matching his apologetic expression. “I know you've seen me spar a couple of times before this, but still..”

Maria chuckled, trying to avert her eyes from Lance's upper torso. “Well, I'm just glad you didn't get a scar on your abdomen..” she laughed awkwardly after that.

Lance arched a brow at her after finishing the adjustments of his gloves. “Hm? Well, I doubt that would happen, but I can understand why you'd be worried about that.”

And of course, Lance was oblivious. He definitely noticed how red Maria's cheeks were, though.

▹ †𝆤࿙๋࿙࿚⊱♚⊰࿙࿚๋࿚𝆤†

Okay, maybe Lance isn't as oblivious as originally thought.

Maria's reddened cheeks were a start, sure. But the fact that she was absolutely doing everything in her power to stop herself from looking below his neck was what concerned him.

And by that - Yes. She was trying to pry those kinds of thoughts out of her brain as they made their way to Terrovania to watch a movie together.

Seriously, what's up with me lately? Maria wondered, embarrassed in every fiber of her body. All because of Lance and his…

She shook her head. No, Maria. Self-control.

Once they arrived at Terrovania, Lance let Maria choose the movie and plopped down on her bed.

He squinted his eyes a little, pursing his lips as Maria was setting up. She's been…. Awfully avoidant since the spar ended.

He looked off to the side, somewhat nervous. Did I do something wrong?

He didn't have time to answer that question for himself, as Maria soon sat down next to him - yet kept a significant distance - and played the movie.

Silence was what had occurred for most of the first half, with the occasional comment about how stupid the two main leads are.

It would be an otherwise normal date had it not been for the fact that Maria would steal glances at Lance, blush, and look away while shaking her head.

Nearing the middle of the movie, Lance unexpectedly paused it. Maria flinched at the sudden action and turned to Lance. “What was that for?” she questioned.

At first, silence was the only thing she got but eventually Lance would follow up her question with one of his own.

“Are you mad at me?”

Maria's eyebrows raised, her eyes wider than saucers, and she felt her shoulders jolt up ever so slightly. “Eh?”

Lance tilted his head, frowning. “Is it because of the spar I had with my brother?” he asked again. “Because if so…”

Maria interjected before he could continue. “Wha- Don't be ridiculous, it isn't because of that!”

“Then what, Maria? You've been avoiding the idea of even looking at me ever since the match ended. Did I do something wro-”

“Ah, sevens damn it, I got distracted!” Maria blurted out. Upon realizing she did, she slapped her hand over her hand.

Lance's lips parted before he spoke again. “Pardon? Distracted by what?”

“Um….” Maria let out a dry, awkward, laugh. “You're gonna think my reason is silly-”

“Maria,” Lance rested his hand over hers. “I just want to know. Your feelings and in general, all your emotions, matter. Just as much as mine do.”

Sentimental as his words may have been, it still took a while for hesitant little Maria to even begin to utter the sentence she was about to say.

“..... I'm gonna be honest here,” Maria moved closer to Lance, leaning against his chest to cover the embarrassment on her face. “... I found you, particularly your arms…. Attractive.”

She was met with an eerie silence right after, and Maria contemplated if Lance just- Didn't want anything to do with her anymore for even thinking such thoughts about him!

But what did she get? Lance stifling his laughter as he pulled Maria closer to his chest, kissing the top of her head in amusement.

“Hah, Maria…” he lifted her chin, so gentle, so unwavering with the tender look in his eyes. “You give me so many more reasons to love and be amused by you, with each passing day.”

Her eyebrows raised a little, and even she could tell that her pupils were dilating. Regardless, Maria closed her eyes, relishing in Lance's touch with a soon-to-be devious smile.

“I could say the same for you too, Lancey.”

♝•°•═════ஓ๑【 ♚ 】๑ஓ═════•°•♝

Taglist [ Pls notify if I forgot anybody! ]

🥥 @windbornearchon • @starry-night-rose • @authoruio • @fumikomiyasaki • @nem0-nee • @sakuramidnight15

@revolllutionary • @spadecentral • @twsted-princess • @oseathepebble • @celiica • @knights-escort • @vivaresmala • @vaporvipermedia • @crazyyanderefangirlfan

[rpking99]

Look. I love my girl Stephanie Brown

She is awesome

....

But

....

Why is she in the KITE-MAN show?!

It's ironic I mentioned the thing with comic adaptations earlier today because.... Yeah. Big time no

Like... Batgirl isn't even a year old as a thing in this universe. Batgirl, Barbara, also didn't become Batgirl until Damian was Robin. But... Here comes Steph

Also Steph in a Batgirl suit when... Spoiler.

...

Also, as a reminder. We are getting a fucking KITE-MAN cartoon before Wonder Woman ever gets one!

....

....

....

Also this adaptation of Steph's outfit sucks.

Where are her gloves? Why is fashion/stylish Stephanie Brown who is passionate about her suit being eggplant wearing lime three different shades of purple? Why is her hood BARLEY covering any of her head like it's one of those small caps Jewish families wear (I am legit sorry, I don't know what that item is called as there are no Jewish people anywhere near me in the South East of the UK and I dont think I've ever heard the thing named in media involving Jewish characters)! Like... It's a hood! It's supposed to COVER your face!

Also this is one of Steph's worse costumes they are adapting. With the whole upper half of her face revealed

Honestly while I enjoy the Harley Quinn show and it's universe, it is also a massive mess as someone who is a big fan of the books

[captain-mj]

Og ghost and soap getting transferred to the rebooted timeline (2022) Meeting this timelines 141.

Og Soap getting jealous of Reboot Ghostsoaps relationship (Reboot Ghostsoap is already established) Because he can't get the courage and is scared to confess his feelings for his Ghost. He asked reboot soap on who confessed first, he said "It was ghost" So he seeks out reboot Ghost and asks him on how he got the courage to confess, and reboot Ghost just slowly and softly guides him, because he went through that feeling as well (and well, because Johnny is still Johnny and he wants the best for him, different timeline or not)

Sorry if this is a very specific request, I'm a sucker for rebootxoriginal timeline crossovers, also smut pls :'D

fI got so excited for this ask, thank you so much I love timeline cross over so much! Also, og Ghost had such bottom energy, I love that feral little man

~~~~

Soap landed on the soil, feeling a bit off. He wished he could remember how exactly he got to... 

“Los almas? Fuck is that?” He noticed a base and looked around, realizing with a sinking feeling that he couldn’t see Ghost anywhere. It wasn’t smart, but he immediately started yelling for him, enemy territory be damned. “Ghost. Ghost!” He shouted as loud as he could, spinning around. He was alone. Not wearing shoes. He was pretty sure this wasn’t the shirt he had been in last night.

Okay, think. He remembered talking a pretty lassie. Ghost had been staring at him which was awkward, but he had been determined and then she had... She’d said something. 

“Ghost!” Soap screamed, feeling the world start to spin. Had he been drugged? Ghost wouldn’t have let him get dragged away, so he must’ve been attacked to. But they were in Russia and this looked like fucking Mexico.

“Soap!” He didn’t recognize that voice. Sounded like they were from Manchester. Ghost wasn’t from fucking Manchester. He started backing up when the guy came into view. The man was... large. Soap didn’t like that at all. Instinctively, he tried to grab his gun, only to come up empty. 

The man wore a skull mask, but no sunglasses. His mask also looked... different. 

“Johnny?” The man sounded unsure of himself, looking at him oddly. 

Soap would recognize those eyes anywhere. “Ghost?”

They stared at each other. Both taking in the... wrongness of the other. Ghost made a motion over his head, as if comparing their height. Soap was a solid 6′2 and this guy seemed to be about two inches taller. His Ghost was only half an inch. 

This was giving him a migraine. 

He reached under his shirt and slowly held up his dog tag. Ghost did the same. 

“Something is very wrong here.” 

“You can say that again.”

----

It took a few hours to sort everything out. So Soap and Ghost were staring at... Soap and... 

“Okay, we gotta fix the name situation. Which one of us is going to go by John?”

“Why would I go by John?” Other Soap frowned at him.

“That’s our first fucking name?”

“Mine is just Johnny. Not John, just Johnny.” 

“Can I go by John?”

Price spoke up, looking back and forth between them all. “Couple here call me John. Might get confusing.”

Soap took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’ll just go by Captain or something.”

“You’re a captain??” 

Soap grabbed his Ghost’s arm and pinched his nose. “I hate it here. I’m short and a sergeant again.” 

Ghost was laughing, but he hadn’t talked yet. Soap wished he would. He could feel Ghost’s hand on his back, trying to provide some comfort in this strange situation. He felt bad for him. Ghost had been stripped of his weapons as well and although whoever did this was nice enough to leave the majority of his clothes on, they had put him in a ski mask and had taken his sunglasses and gloves. Soap could see the anxiety hanging around him like a storm. He’d be lying if the warm of his bare hand wasn’t nice though. 

“Alright, we have Johnny and Captain.” Other Ghost spoke. Soap didn’t like that he had to look up to him. He didn’t like it at all. “I’m a lieutenant.”

“Also, a lieutenant... Maybe one of us could go by Riley for the time being?” Ghost finally spoke and he could see several of the bystanders stare at him. He wanted to be snarky and say he sounds like an actual person and not a movie villian, but he thought that might be rude. Whatever, he liked his Ghost’s voice. 

Other Ghost, Riley, nodded. “Reluctantly, I’ll take it.” His Ghost relaxed a little. 

“Thank you. Don’t really want strangers calling me by my name.”

“Understood.” They looked at each other and Soap swore he could hear the telepathic conversation they must be having.

“Does Roach exist here?” Ghost asked and Soap tried not to feel irritated. He didn’t get why Ghost needed him.

“Who?”

“Understood. Means he probably didn’t get taken with us. He was the only one at the bar, right Captain?” He turned his eyes on Soap, who felt a little stupid for not thinking of that. 

“Yeah. Just us and Roach. So, let’s do some basic questions. What year is it?”

“2022.”

“We’re in 2009. Explains why our ages are weird.”

“Did 9/11 happen?” Ghost looked at Riley who nodded. 

“I was like 7 when it happened though.”

“Weird...” 

One of the guys who ran the base, Alejandro, interrupted. “So this is... really weird and all, but what are we going to do about this? How do we get you guys back?”

Ghost nodded. “Oh, we have to learn something.”

Everyone looked at him before Soap just sighed. “And what the fuck do you mean by that Simon?”

“Don’t use my name like that. And the lady last night told me we needed to learn something and she thought this could help. Then I woke up in the middle of the goddamn desert. Thought I was back with Roba.”

“Oh that happened to you too?” Riley leaned in, looking almost excited.

“Yeah! You get experimented on and buried alive?”

“Yeah, I had to dig myself out with a-”

“Jawbone.” They said at the same time. 

Soap laughed, not noticing most of the strangers looked horrified. “Is that where you got the nickname Jawbone? I thought it was just because of the mask.”

“Nope, accidentally told someone the story and they thought it was funny.” Ghost was smiling. 

Johnny grabbed Riley’s arm. It felt like all the air in the room was gone. That wasn’t good, you didn’t just tou-

Riley moved so they were holding hands. There was a ringing in Soap’s ears and he only faintly realized he was staring. 

Maybe this was normal in their universe? Did friends just do that? 

Ghost snapped in front of him. “Captain. You okay? Still drugged up?”

“Fuck off, Ghost.” Soap crossed his arms. “Just... thinking of how to get out of this mess.” He noted Ghost’s posture. Perfect like always, only just a little bit taller than him. Soft eyes. No makeup. He wore sunglasses so he never wore it when they were out casually. 

He preferred this Ghost. Preferred what they had right now. Friends. 

Oh, who the fuck was he kidding. He wanted that. Wanted that so damn bad. Did Johnny trace Ghost’s scars like he wanted to do? Did they look more similar under all the clothing? I mean he and Johnny looked really similar if you looked past the height difference. 

Did Johnny know what he looked like under all those clothes? Under the mask? The very thought made him feel green with envy. 

Soap straightened. “Do you have somewhere we can stay? I’d offer to shack up in a hotel but... Damn thing robbed us while tossing us around.” 

“Yeah. We have a room you two can stay in.” Rodolfo nodded. “It has a bathroom attached.” He looked at Ghost when he said that part who just nodded. Soap followed Alejandro, Ghost right behind him. This whole place was... odd. He’d noticed little things that were just... off and he couldn’t tell if its because its Mexico or the different dimension thing. 

The two twin beds sat next to each other in the room and he groaned. His whole body had started aching at some point. Alejandro left them and he started to pull off his clothes.

“Planning on showering?” He looked over at Ghost, with his shirt pulled off and in his hands, loving the way Ghost would glance over at his chest before looking away. 

“No. Maybe later. I’m going to have to borrow a mask from... Riley.” Soap frowned.

“Sorry. I know this probably really uncomfortable for you. There’s this... whole other version of you an-”

“Respectfully, Captain, that’s not a problem for me.” Was Ghost mad? Why the fuck was he mad?

“Alright. Then what’s your damn problem?” Soap left his dog tags on and took off his pants, very happy to see his underwear still on. Ghost was staring again. At his thighs and down his body before quickly looking away. 

His fucking sunglasses. Usually Soap couldn’t see where he was looking. The bastard probably ogled him all the damn time.

“I’m just tired, Captain. And I’m stuck sharing a room and don’t get me wrong, glad its you, but its... I like my privacy. And they’re going to ask me questions.”

“Didn’t seem to mind answering Riley’s.”

“Different.” It was probably the only explanation he was gonna get so he dropped it. Soap went to shower, scrubbing himself clean. He knew Ghost had blond hair under there. Knew he had brown eyes. He had a strong jaw. A glasgow smile was carved into his cheeks. Whenever he got Ghost to drink with him, he’d lift it to just his nose. He had a cut across his nose too. 

Does this Johnny sketch too? Soap wished he had one of them. Sounded like nice way to relax right now. 

When he got out, Ghost had already went to sleep. It was unusual, but after the day they had... 

According to Johnny, he had found Ghost frantically searching. Said he had almost grabbed him before registering he was too short. 

What would he have done if it was him? When he grabbed him, would he have held on to him? Would Soap have let him? 

Soap sank into his bed. It was comfortable. Made his back ache. He kept glancing over at Ghost, feeling restless. That man could sleep anywhere, but Soap’s body was a little pickier. 

He eventually just sighed and got up. This was pointless. He was also starving. The base was eerily silent, though he could see some people on watch. 

Johnny and Riley were in the kitchen. Riley had a cup of tea and Johnny was eating cereal. They were so close to each other. Casually touching. 

Johnny jumped. “Jesus, you’re just as bad as Ghost.”

“Picked it up from him. He needed to be shown how fucking creepy it is.” He stalked past them, stealing some of the water from the kettle to make his own cup. 

“You drink it?”

“Not usually, but...” He shrugged. “Don’t know. I think I have the most extreme version of jetlag possible.”

Johnny nodded. “So how long have you two been dating?”

Soap felt something hot and angry sink its teeth directly into his stomach. “I’m not dating Ghost. It would be inappropriate. I’m his Captain.” 

There was a beat of silence.

“Oh.” Riley spoke this time.

“Your accent. Manchester, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I don’t fucking like it. Prefer my Ghost’s.” Soap took a sip of the tea. It was just as bad as he remembered. Maybe Ghost would like it. “You guys have anything to eat?” He turned around and they were talking with just their eyes and... He looked away again.

“Yeah, help yourself.” Johnny smiled and Soap took what he wanted and left, hiding in their room again. He noticed Ghost twitching and shook him. Screaming in the middle of the night didn’t seem like a good idea. 

Ghost whined and glared up at him. He sat up immediately. “Did you make me tea?”

Soap forgot he even had it in his hand. “Yeah.” He handed it to him, trying not to stare when he raised his mask. 

He sat next to him, eating in companionable silence.

“Was I making noise?” 

“No, but you were twitching. Remember what you were dreaming?”

“Nothing I want to burden you with Captain.” Ghost smiled. “I’m fine. Stop worrying about me.” 

“Is it true you were looking for me?”

Ghost blushed. With the mask lifted up, Soap could see it. “I was looking for my team.”

That’s not what Johnny had said. He said he had been looking for him. Just him. He didn’t push. 

“Alright, I’m going to try to sleep. You should probably try to go back to sleep.” Soap lightly hit his shoulder, thinking of the way the other versions of them touched. Ghost flinched and he grimaced as he watched him yank his mask back down. 

“Course, Captain.”

In the morning, Soap looked for Johnny. He cornered him down a hallway and stood over him. 

Johnny looked at him, half smirking. “Listen, I’ve joked that if I had a clone, I’d fuck them, but I am very committed relationship to my Ghost.”  Another thing they had in common. Ghost was mine or yours. Not just Ghost.

“How did you do it?”

“Do what?” 

“Get with him. Who confessed first.” 

Johnny softened a little around the edges. “Oh. So you do like your Ghost.”

“I want to do terrible, terrible things to that man. So who confessed first?” 

“Ghost did.” 

“...Fuck.” Soap sighed. “I know mine. He won’t do that.” He leaned into the wall and slid down.

“Well, why not?” Johnny slid down the wall across from them. They sat the same way, legs splayed and backs straight. Fucking creepy.

“He’s... different than yours.” Soap stared above his head. “I’m sure yours went through something similar, but I don’t know. It seems to have affected them differently. He’s... I don’t know how to explain. But I don’t think he’d confess first if he has feelings for me at all.” 

“Does he stare at you?”

“All the time. He usually wears sunglasses, but I swear he’s always looking at me.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Ghost. He’s into you. I saw him stare at your ass the entire time we were walking you guys to your room.”

“Ah, your Ghost an ass man?” 

Johnny laughed. “Thighs actually. His exact words were ‘you could crush my head like a watermelon’. It did make me feel more confident.” 

Soap smiled. “It’s so weird. Seeing myself younger again.”

“Good to know I do not age at all though. Worried I’d go gray and wrinkly due to stress.” 

They sat for a minute, Ghost on both their minds.

“You should talk to my Ghost. Ask him for advice.” Johnny smiled at him. “He should be in his room right now. He took the night watch. Doesn’t sleep much.”

“You find anything that helps with those? I try to help mine out.’

“Being next to someone helps.” 

Soap’s heart ached. God he hoped he wasn’t misreading this situation. He wanted to help him so much. 

“What does he look like under there?” 

Johnny straightened up. “You haven’t seen him???”

“No.”

“Okay, I’m not going to spoil the surprise, but if he’s anything like mine, he’s fucking gorgeous. Has a couple of scars, but we’re into that.”

“Yeah, we fucking are.” Soap mumbled, thinking of the one along Ghost’s ribs. He wanted to cover it with hickeys and make him squirm. “i love that man.” 

Johnny didn’t seem shocked. He got up. “Oh, while you’re there, apologize for the comment you made about his accent.”

“Oh, did I hurt his feelings?”

“No. But you’re going to apologize.” Johnny looked down at Soap and Soap understood why his recruits look scared.

“I’ll apologize.”

So now he needed to talk to Riley. Alright. He was willing to do this for Ghost. To have Ghost. 

He knocked and waited. 

Riley opened the door with no hesitation, freezing. He had no shirt on. Luckily he had his mask, but Christ, Soap felt like he was going to have a nosebleed.

“You knock exactly like Johnny.” Riley seemed frozen. He had scars of course but also hickeys and scratches and.... Soap quickly turned around. 

“Put your shirt on soldier.” Soap waited until he heard the door reopening. He turned back. “Glad you’re decent.” He went right in his room, all the confidence of a Captain.

“Need something?” Riley sounded strained, probably not liking that a stranger was in his room. 

“How did you... confess your feelings to Soap?” He didn’t look at him. 

“Oh. You came here for advice on getting with other me?”

“Yes. Also to apologize for the mean comment about your accent. It was uncalled for.” He turned around, standing straight. “How did you... do it? I want to... I want Ghost.”

“Well... for one, do you just want Ghost or do you want Simon too?”

Soap blinked. Odd question. “Yes.” 

Riley seemed amused. Soap wanted to kick him. Giant motherfucker. But he needed his help so he stayed complacent. “And what do you want? A one night stand? A relationship?”

“Anything he’d give me honestly.” 

“Yeah, it’ll work then. You have to be a bit blunt. He’s not going to believe it if you’re not explicit. Also, the mask isn’t going to go away. It’s part of the package deal. If that’s going to be a problem...”

“No. I don’t like it, but I’ve more than accepted that its part of him. So be blunt. Accept him as he is.”

“Also, bite him. He’s going to love that.”

“What is wrong with you?” Soap whisper shouted at him, appalled.

Riley laughed. It sounded exactly like Ghost’s. “It really is that easy. I’d try talking first, just because touch is... touchy.”

“Thank you. You two have been really helpful.”

“Regardless of what universe you’re from, you’re still Soap MacTavish. I’ll always want the best for you.” Riley sounded so sincere. It stung. It was a sting Soap could live with.

“Thank you. So I’m assuming just kissing him is out. Though with the mask he’s been wearing, I wouldn’t even have to lift it up.” Soap smiled softly. Kissing Ghost. What a fucking thought. 

“Yeah, unexpected touch is not good... Has he... mentioned...”

“I know.” Soap sighed. “I know about what happened with Roba. Its one of the reasons I’m so nervous. I’m his Captain. It is inappropriate.”

“I’m Johnny’s LT. As long as you’re clear he doesn’t have to be with you, its okay. We’re a little different in the 141.”

Soap nodded. Oh God. This just left talking to him.

“What color is your hair?”

“What?”

“I’ve been wanting to know a long time. Just curious.”

“Blond.” 

“Blond...” Soap repeated, taking a deep breath. “Thank you.” He pulled away to try to find Ghost. 

Ghost had went out with Price apparently. They were going to be back later. 

Soap groaned and sat with Gaz and Alex. He finally found some paper and took a moment to sketch what his crew looked like. The two of them nodded and started talking about what missions they had went on, comparing their stories. 

Ghost still hadn’t gotten back. Soap missed him. He was bored and he wanted his LT. 

He found more paper and sat in their shared room, sketching. He sketched Ghost’s mask for a bit before moving to his body. If this went well, he was going to ask him to pose for him. 

Ghost came back late. Soap looked at him. “Why were you gone so long?”

Ghost shrugged, avoiding his eye. “I think I’m going to go shower.” He was covered in red dust from the desert. 

“Simon.’ Soap said softly, watching him turn around, those eyes of his on him again. Always on him. 

“John.” 

Soap moved closer. Words. He needed to use words here right now. 

“Simon, I...” Soap choked. Just staring at him. Their height difference was pretty much nonexistent. He liked that they were always eye to eye. He liked that Ghost was mysterious and liked the crazy spark in his eye when they tortured someone together and he liked that he knew Soap sketched him in his mask but never said anything about it. 

But how the fuck do you put that into words?

“You’re a great Lt.” 

Ghost’s shoulders visibly slumped. He looked down at Soap’s shoes. “Thank you, sir.” 

Fuck. 

That was bad. 

“Ghost, I think you’re great.”  Soap tried again. “I like being around you.”

“John, please. Whatever you’re doing...” Ghost sounded hoarse, pleading. 

Soap shook his head. “No. I... Fuck, Ghost I want....”

What did he tell Johnny?

“I want you.” Soap said softly. “In a romantic sense. I want to do stupid things like feed ducks in parks and make you Simon MacTavish because you hate that you have your father’s last name and I want to know what you look like under those layers and I want... I want to make sure nothing bad ever happens to you again but I can’t promise that so... I want to be with you when it does.” He stared at Ghost, those dark eyes of his. 

Ghost leaned forward, pressing their lips together. The fabric pressed against Soap’s skin exactly as he managed.

“Okay.” Ghost sounded dazed. “I... God I want that with you.” He moved closer and it was just like they were on the field, both understanding what to do.

“Simon, I want to. I really, really want to, but promise me you want this too.” 

“Soap, I promise. I promise.” Soap pulled him into the bed immediately, getting on top of him. Ghost lifted the mask up just a little and Soap got to kiss him properly and he finally understood the phrase about fireworks. He didn’t want to pull away. He probably wouldn’t have if Ghost hadn’t let out a needy sound. 

Soap kissed along the Glasgow scars, undoing Ghost’s shirt. Ghost melted into his touch. 

“Just tell me if its too much, okay?”

“John, I swear to God if you interrupt one more time. I am fine! I’m not broken.” Ghost yanked him closer to slip Soap’s shirt off of him. 

“You’re so attractive.” Ghost blushed and Soap resumed kissing along those scars. He pulled back just long enough to get lube, ordering Ghost to finish undressing while he did. Soap got between his legs and admired him for a moment. 

Ghost yanked the mask off and tossed it with the rest of his clothes. He didn’t look at Soap and Soap didn’t comment. They could always talk about it later. For now, he wanted to enjoy the moment. And God, he was gorgeous. It felt like a puzzle had clicked together and he could finally see him. 

Finally, he got to suck marks around that scar, Ghost’s shaking hands in his hair. Soap’s fingers slowly pushed into Ghost, making him whine. 

“Hurt?”

“A little, but I like it.” Ghost pushed him down so he’d keep marking his skin. “I hated that lady. Not for doing this, but for keeping your attention. Always hate when you’d drag us drinking. Hated seeing you with those women.” The hand in his hair tightened. “You’re mine, MacTavish. Just didn’t know how to tell you that.”

Soap had never been more turned on in his goddamn life. “I’m yours. You’re mine.” He fit another finger into him, hearing Ghost’s breath hitch. 

Soap slowly pulled up from. His handiwork spanned over his chest and stomach, covering some of the scars and outline the curves of his muscles. 

He took his pants off, seeing Ghost stare at him. 

“I’m going to mark you up later, Captain. Gotta make sure everyone else knows too.” Ghost almost whined when Soap got his underwear off. “Knew you had a nice ass underneath those stupid tactical pants. I don’t get why ours are so baggy.”

Soap laughed and moved back to him, kissing him again. Ghost wrapped his arms around him. Soap could feel him start to tense when his cock started to press into him. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, Ghost. You have to relax.” Soap ran his hands through his hair. It was so far out of regulation. 

“I know.” Ghost grumbled, holding on tight. 

“Simon.” Soap said softly, gently kissing him. “I got you. Let me take care of ya.” He started to push in as soon as Ghost relaxed. Ghost dug his fingers into his shoulders, panting softly. Soap should’ve known that he’d be pretty quiet in bed, but that simply was not going to stand. He was going to fix that. 

Ghost felt divine. If he admitted now that he was a demon to tempt him to hell, Soap would follow him. Burn himself alive to keep doing exactly this. He bottomed out and managed to get a soft keening sound from Ghost.

“Fuck.” Ghost gritted. 

“Bigger than you were expecting?” Soap teased.

“A lot bigger.” Ghost admitted, kissing along his jaw. “Burns but I like it. Fuck, I like you.” Soap couldn’t help the laughter and Ghost followed after him. Their lips met again and Soap experimentally rolled his hips. Ghost gasped softly. His legs moved, ending up hooked over Soap’s hips as he slowly thrust in. 

Soap tried to memorize everything about this moment. He wanted to draw it later. Draw Simon as he came undone underneath him. 

Simon looked up at him, the picture of decadence. He suddenly arched, letting out a soft, breathy moan. Soap had to take a deep breath to keep from coming right then. 

“Right there, John. Please.” Soap copied what he just did and got another moan for his efforts. He adjusted their positions and hit the spot every time, watching the muscles in his abdomen jump and twitch at the feeling. 

Biting. Right. He leaned down and sank his teeth into his shoulder, holding him close so he could press deeper inside him as he did. 

Simon let out a quiet wail as he ran his nails down Soap’s back. His legs started to shake from where they were around Soap. 

“Close, mo chridhe?”

“English?”

“It means my heart.” Soap spoke softly against him. Ghost blushed hard before burying his face in his shoulder. He whimpered as Soap thrust in harder, still barely audible but fuck Soap would take it.

“Do you like that? I could use more. I could use them in front of the team and they’d never know.” 

“But I want them to know.” Ghost was right against Soap’s ear. “Want them to know I’m yours, sir.” 

Once again, Soap had to focus on his breathing. He reached down, stroking Ghost since he wasn’t going to last much longer.

Ghost kissed along his throat, gasping and digging his fingers into him. He barely let Soap move enough to thrust into him. He came with a soft moan and fell almost boneless to the bed. 

Soap pulled out and finished on his chest. Maybe he wanted to draw this. Fuck it, he’d learn animation and just recreate the entire goddamn night. 

Ghost swallowed. “Thanks for not... in me. Should’ve asked.” 

“I didn’t have a condom. Thought it was more polite.” Yes. That was it. Definitely not seeing Ghost covered in his cum. “Let me get you cleaned up, mo chridhe.” 

Ghost whined. “Soap, don’t talk to me like that.” 

Soap laughed. “Why not?”

“Because I cannot go another round right now. I’m out of practice.” Ghost sat up, grimacing. 

“Hurt?”

“Nothing a shower won’t fix, love.”

Soap nodded and took his sweetheart to the bathroom. He turned the water on and pulled Ghost in with him. He was careful with him, admiring him even more. Once Ghost was cleaned up, he dried him off. Yes, Ghost could easily do this part, but Soap was willing and wanting. 

Ghost stepped away to get dressed, not letting Soap help because he took too long.

They walked out of the bathroom and it was different. 

They were in Soap’s quarters at home. All of the sketches he had made, along with any belongings they had taken off or went missing, all sat on his bed. 

“Huh.”

“We’re home.” 

“Damn. Wish I could’ve said thank you to those guys. They kinda talked me through asking you out.”

Ghost stared at him. “Price was actually encouraging me to go for you. I think he and Riley are close. He could see straight through me... So, what do we do now?”

Soap intertwined their fingers. “Guess we... keep working. You could start coming to my bedroom at night.”

“I’d like that.” 

[statticscribbles]

Hand held

Summary: Sweet Pea/Reader; Reader parents are abusive and Sweet Pea puts a stop to it

TW: Parental abuse; physical abuse

Lying was easy enough; while you weren’t a Serpent hanging around them made it easy to brush off the occasional scrape and bump from your parents. It was easy to say  someone had dragged you into a job; or Sweet Pea had been distracted by you being there and you’d ended up having to run with him. You weren't a serpent and thus couldn’t be protected by the whole gang; which you think is a little lucky; if you were a Serpent you dread to think what your parents would hang over your head as another way to manipulate you into playing punching bag for them.

You can’t remember when it started; which you think might make it worse than the actual beatings. At first it was for skipping dinner and eating only dessert. Then it was for playing too loudly and distracting them from work. It moved on to taking too much of your mom’s dinner; or sneaking out, or staying out past a curfew that got earlier and earlier until if they didn’t pick you up from school you’d be out past it and punished.

You stare down at your hand; it’s gone numb; and purple and swollen and you think one of your fingers is actually fully twisted around, you can’t really blame yourself this time; there’s no excuse you can use to get out of this. There’s no way you can make up a story this time.

It takes you another two hours to realize you also have a black eye. You don’t bother trying to cover it up with makeup. You know that your hand is enough to get everyone in school worried; even the teachers will be. The eye is just icing on the cake and you grimace a little and wince as the swollen area throbs; at least for now you can put some ice on it and hopefully calm it down a little before class starts.

You know everyone is staring and you wish it was cold enough to wear a hoodie and gloves. You’re not sure if you could manage to fit your hand  into a glove and you’re relieved that you can shove it in your pocket; despite how much that makes you wince.

“Hey Y/N….” Fangs trails off and you shrug a little.

“It’s nothing.”

“Hey babe.. Who the fuck did that to you.”

“I was an accident… Nothing was-”

“Your fucking parents did that?” He growls and you sort of nod.

“You’re not going home with them.”

“I don’t have anywhere to-”

“My place.” Sweet Pea reaches for your hand and you wince again you know he’s not glaring at you but at what’s happened. 

It takes three hours in Riverdale's hospital for you to get your hand reset and in a cast; and for your eye’s swelling to be deemed okay to just apply ice packs to. Sweet Pea doesn’t leave your side the entire time and he even makes a point of ordering Pop’s; something your parents would never let you do; and snuggling next to you on the bed to eat it.

“So this was fun but…” You gather your school things and and Sweet Pea’s hand stops you.

“No you’re staying here; in fact I’m saying we’re calling off of school’ you can barely see or write; at least for the rest of the week.”

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that I have a bunch of pictures from Toni showing you egging my house and keying my parents car would it?”

“We also slashed their tires!”

“She didn’t send me; oh wait the rest came through… why did you do all this?”

“Serpents protect their own; besides that's the least of their worries if they end up in jail…”

“Jail?”

“Mhm; prisoners have a hierarchy and child abusers are wayyyy down on the list.” You try not to grimace too much as Sweet Pea smiles.

Support My Writing?

[weirdthinkingdragon]

Welcome To The Family (8/???)

Surprise bitches. Short chap to try getting back into it (eventually) 

Tw- language that would probably make a sailor blush. Maybe I should tone it down (probably won’t), kidnapped, blackmail, delusional “friend”, light hypothermia (will make sense when reading).

----------------------------------------------------

Muffled voices were the only thing being heard while waking up. One of them was Tadao. And the other?...

...Ryo? Why are they yelling at each other? Wha- how long was I- wait, where am I- what happened? All I remember is Tadao… Right. Damn, my head hurts severely. I can’t even rub it with my hands being bound. As well as my legs to the chair. Wait, bound? Fuck, now I’m regretting not taking their advice of walking with me. I just really wasn’t expecting Tadao to do such a thing.

I attempt to open my eyes, but the brightness of the room makes the pain in my head at least three times worse, and my vision is incredibly blurred. Okay, focus on where I am for now.

What feels to be a wooden chair, and metal cuffs around my wrists, keeping them together in front of me. Really? They couldn’t have at least given my ass a cushion or something? Right, not the time for that type of complaint. I try to listen to their yelling conversation without giving away that I woke up. Their loud voices are killer on my headache. Even though most if not all the pain is the back of my head where I was hit.

Trying to feel a bit more, there’s a bit of a crusty type of feeling slightly down my back. The hit must have somehow punctured my skin or something since I can only think of that crusty feeling being blood. I better not have fallen in dog poop or something or I swear I’m beating the daylight out of Tadao more if I ever will be able to.

“Why didn’t you use your black mold or something to make them pass out!? Your hits to them could have killed them!” Ryo? They’re in on this too!? There’s not really a way this could get worse, is there? My two closest friends?... Can’t really say that anymore.

“Are you stupid!? Black mold could have killed them too! That would also give them breathing problems! Do you KNOW how deadly strong amounts of exposure of mold is to people besides me, especially black, since I’m immune to it!?”

Pain stabs through my head yet again. Urg, do they really need to yell?...

“You fucking idiot. You should have kept chloroform on you like I said to do.” I swear my heart stops completely for a minute. I know that voice anywhere. Aiya. Fuck, I just HAD to jinx it, didn’t I?

“I’m sorry, okay? It was a brash and stupid decision! But I couldn’t risk being followed! With the multiple heroes at the time taking care of a few low villains on the other side of the city, and tons of people drawn to that, it was the best chance I had to not be seen!” He sounds rather exasperated.

She sighs. “Doesn’t matter now. If there’s any damage done to their head, we’ll just have to focus on that later. Our main priority is having everyone think they’re dead. I guess you were good in that regard by leaving the bloodied bat there. At least you were smart enough to still be wearing gloves.”

My only question is why are they working with her? It’s obvious she hates me. I can still feel the “friendship” ring on my finger I kept wearing for one reason or another. I’d care for nothing more than to rip it off now and smash it to the ground. Stomp on it for good measure. Regret overwhelmingly taking me over of ever being friends with Ryo in the first place.

I end up shifting after way too long of a weird stare-down silence because they couldn't have at least given me a fucking cushion, signaling I’m awake. They all must notice since they all go quiet for a moment. “Y/N! You’re awake! That’s good! Now that you’re here, we can finally hang out again, and the heroes will find a new sitter!”

… Are you fucking mental? How many people around me are truly sane right now? First the heroes are acting weird, and now my friends. Starting to wonder if the heroes aren’t the ones struck by some sort of quirk. I try to glare at them, but my eyes are forced closed by the damn light. It’s like an interrogation because the only visible light is the one above me glaring down for the tiny second I try to open my eyes again.

“Come on Y/N, people die all the time. Those heroes won’t bat an eye when they find you “dead”. Don't flatter yourself.” Aiya sneers.

!!! Fuck, she must have told them. She must have noticed my expression sour. “Oh please, I informed Ryo about the heroes after I found them angry one day. Aw, all they wanted was to hang out with you.” The end of what she spoke became incredibly degrading. She’s lucky I’m not able to put my foot to her face and break a few teeth. Or maybe breaking her nose. That would suffice too. I can already hear Zashi in the background like some sort of funny show edging me on to do it. Really starting to hate her, and I hardly know jack shit other than her name and her personality that could possibly rival Endeavor’s.

I finally manage to force my eyes open and clear, showing Tadao behind the two of them with an incredibly horrified look on his face. “WHAT!? WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME THEY WERE HEROES!? Oh man, oh man, oh fuck! I KNEW it was a bad idea! Why did I listen to you two!?” The pain in my head majorly spikes. Hng, fuck. Can he PLEASE at least keep it down!?

His complaints must have pissed off Ryo since they walk over and grab Tadao by his hair, yanking it down. He tenses in pain and closes an eye to prevent yelling. They turn towards me and look at my hands. I do as well and notice the metal cuffs look too similar to wood. Almost like a coverup for something.

“You’re wearing our friendship ring! You must still want to hang out with me!”

You’re beyond stupid if you think I will after this stunt. Is this where they were the time I was going to hang out with them? Wait... Please for the love of everything, tell me they didn't get hit by the same fucking quirk. That or going back to the idea I might be the problem. Ryo's almost acting like it. My mouth feels incredibly dry as I try to speak. "Why this way?" Eventually manages to come out. It’s not slurred, which must be insane luck. Aiya seems disappointed. "Well, miraculously somehow doesn't seem to be any brain damage or concussion, so I guess that's good."

I snap at Ryo harming Tadao and that Aiya wanted me to be injured. Same with how the others have been acting. Really getting pissed off at whoever has this quirk. I’d like more than just a word with them, even if it’s a child at this point. "Could you break out of this weird fucking quirk already? I'm getting sick of all this weird personality bullshit." So I’m crabby. Sue myself. Not my fault they could have killed me and are the cause of this stupid pain in my head. They deserve a snappy attitude at least.

Ryo looks at me confused. "I was never hit with any quirk.”

What? Did I stop breathing? I think I stopped breathing. No, they have to be lying! Ugh, really must have been me.

Aiya laughs maniacally for a moment at my probably bewildered expression. "Is- is that what you THINK? They and Ryo were never hit with such a ridiculous thing!"

My mind blanks into fear of what that means. It's not possible they're just acting like that normally! It has to be me then! I refuse to believe two pro heroes, one in training, and a child ALL have some weird obsession for just a plain babysitter. Ugh, I might have to resign being their babysitter, or even just one in general, if this is the case. Well, if I get out of here that is. I’d rather not get involved deeper with whatever the fucks going on with them.

"They were probably just acting to keep your pathetic excuse as a good sitter so they could finally stop looking for another!"

Me, a pathetic excuse? I'm not the one who kept trying to hit on a married gay man or ignore the children, which, I don't know, IS. THE. JOB.? A major part of me is doubtful of them just acting it as well. There's no way they'd go to such extremities and make me so uncomfortable sometimes if that was the case. With how desperate they are, maybe? But Shouta really doesn't seem to be the type to mess around or act differently than himself under any circumstance.

I give her a disbelieving look, which seemed to be the wrong thing to do, and her face became a harsh glare as she stomps up to me. She reaches out towards me and wraps her hand around my pendant. She gives a firm tug, breaking the chain around my neck, then glares at the pendant.

"This should have been mine. I was so close to finding a way I could squeeze back in and steal Hizashi for myself, but then you had to come in and ruin everything. I don't know what stupid trick you pulled, but they're dogs at your fucking mercy, almost like Tadao is for me."

My brows crease in confusion. What does she mean by that?

Ryo finally stopped pulling on Tadao's hair, and he steps a few feet away from the psychotic duo. He's also on thin ice but seems to really not want to be a part of this. He glares at Aiya from behind and gently rubs his scalp. She turns to look at him while trying to squeeze the pendant as tight as she could. It's sturdier than I thought since it isn't cracking in any way. "Why don't you tell them, my little errand boy?" She says "errand boy" in such a demeaning way that even I feel like throwing up.

He physically cringes hard at that name but doesn't stop his glaring at her. She doesn't seem to care in the slightest. "It's true. She's got me on a tight leash that could easily make me lose my job as a waiter for my parent's business. Two of her friends help set me up one day while I was their waiter. She purposefully tripped me, making me fall onto one of her in-on-it female friends,"

He greatly cringes again. "My hands ended up in... unsavory places trying to catch myself. Aiya snapped a picture, and if she were to send it to my parents, they'd kick me from my job for sure. I'm trying to earn my place to take over their business one day. They understandably would have no tolerance for such behavior. Everyone is more than willing to believe three women complaining about a man assaulting them before they'd believe a man claiming to be gay was framed."

I hate to say it, but that does seem like a pretty logical assumption many would make. Has he mentioned being gay before? My still kinda messed up mind can't remember.

Aiya laughs sadistically. "Right you are, my little errand boy."

I cringe as well this time. Ew. Out of all things? Seriously?

"It was a miracle it worked so well in my favor! Now I can just dangle the little carrot whenever I need dirty work done, and he has to do it or lose his job and family’s faith in him permanently."

Now I'm feeling a bit bad for Tadao.

"In speaking of loss." She turns back towards me and glares harshly again. She throws the pendant to the ground and tries to break it with a few firm stomps. Is she seriously acting like a child right now? If I wasn’t in such a dire situation, I’d probably be laughing at how pathetic this is.

The stomps do little to nothing. She yells in frustration, picks it up again, and chucks it at the concrete wall as hard as she could on my left. It just bounces off and clatters to the also concrete floor. Concrete? Of course I'd be in a fucking basement. She’s acting like a child throwing a massive tantrum.

She stops after a moment and pins her hands on my forearms. The grip almost hurts. With her glare locked onto my eyes and her quite obvious thirst for power or something, I could almost joke about her being kinky.

That thought nearly makes me physically gag. Ew. Okay, definitely not with her involved though.

“What are you doing? This wasn’t part of the plan!” Ryo has the audacity to almost sound panicked. Why?

She looks back toward Ryo for a moment.

"Oh, they deserve a little punishment, don't you think, dear Ryo? They chose the “family” over you after all. All they had to do was deny them a bit better, and all of this could have been avoided!~"

I'm pissed they didn't think I tried. How the hell are you SUPPOSED to just stand up and refuse two pro heroes to something they were already dead set on? Especially if they’re quite high in ranks?

Ryo has a torn expression. “I… yeah, I guess that makes sense. But we can’t afford to have them suddenly needing to go to the hospital. They’d be found then!”

She turns back towards me with a highly unnerving smirk. “Don’t you worry. I’ll just go to stage one.”

Stage… one? Wait, It almost feels like everything around is getting colder? No, worse. It feels like heat is slowly being sapped out of me. What is she doing!?

Tadao seems to pale a few shades lighter than he already was.

“Y-You can’t just use your quirk like that! You’re purposefully giving them stage one hypothermia!?” He rushes towards us to try to stop her.

...She’s what!?

She puts one of her hands in a “stop” form towards him. “Come any closer, and I won’t think twice of posting that delightful pic to your family.”

He freezes in his tracks.

“Besides, stage one is harmless enough anyway. Mostly just some shivering and loss of blood circulation. We can warm them back up to normal easily enough later.”

“B-but what about the chance of it worsening after? It could get worse itself since it’s already fairly cold down here!” He almost seems to beg for her to let go.

She rolls her eyes. Damn, I’m feeling the effect fast. My body is already starting to involuntarily shiver. “Every time you open your whiny mouth, it makes my longing stronger of wanting to post it just to get you sorry excuse for a man finally away from me.”

He looks like he desperately wants to say something else, but his mouth snaps shut.

“I- uh, I’ll come back later. I can’t really handle being around Y/N while you do that to them.” Ryo admits and heads towards the stairs starting at my right front corner and goes up towards a door above and behind me. Seriously? You’re so DESPERATE to get me, finally do, and then can’t even stick around to watch your new friend basically torture your old best friend? Just how pathetic are you?

The door slams as they leave.

She immediately gets way too close to my face. Back up, back up, backup, backup,backup-

“You’re lucky I promised to keep my word for them, or I’d have absolutely no problem forcing it to the third stage and laugh at you while watching you die.” She seethes, and lets go not long after.

She's lucky I didn't spit on her face. Would have greatly loved to. I really should have.

She looks toward Tadao and glares again. “I’ll be back shortly. I need to make sure you weren’t stupid enough to leave any other tracks that would lead them to us. While I’m gone, don’t think of doing anything else stupid,” She leaves pretty quickly as well. However, I didn’t hear a door open and close.

I look up to try to see why, and there’s a bit of purple mist that disappears not long after. Purple mist? Was there another or something? Maybe that’s how I got here? Now thinking back, I think I saw something purple forming to the side of me before being knocked out.

Tadao bolts to be right in front of me and puts his hands on my shoulders. The little heat is a surprising relief from the serious chill I’m feeling now. His brown eyes look like they’re about to start crying.

“I’m sorry! I’msorry, I’msosorry, so, so, so, sorry! I didn’t want this to happen and purposefully started to avoid you because they were forcing me to get you and they would have known if I met you and didn’t get you with that other watching and so many things this is so frustrating-!” He quickly started speaking so fast I almost didn’t understand a word he said to me. It took a moment to process, but then it made sense why he wasn’t around the past few days.

Kind of stuck on what to do now, other than…

I slip the ring off my finger and drop it to the floor. Can’t exactly stomp on it from my legs being bound, but it’s enough in the rage I feel.

Another involuntary shiver comes over my body. Has it always been this cold in here? I know the whole hypothermia and stuff going on, but this seems rather odd. Was she possibly lying about only stage one?

He quickly kneels down to be right by the cuffs still on my wrist sitting in front.

Metal cuffs that are detailedly painted to look wooden. After a second of him holding them, The paint chips off with what I guess to be some sort of mold, leaving the metallic glint underneath.

A surprised and extremely terrified expression takes over his face. “I thought I told her to make them wood! I lied saying you wouldn’t be able to break out of it so I could use my mold to dissolve them!”

Aiya laughs behind him and re-enters. A test. Of COURSE she was testing him, not going back to the scene. It would have been beyond suspicious if the heroes saw her there.

She walks down the stairs to be in front of us. “You honestly think I’d listen to you? I know you were planning on letting them go before you found out the family they babysit for are heroes. Sadly, I actually did get rid of that picture, as promised to Ryo with your cooperation, but I can easily get more. All it takes is another friend who still has it, or even just have other friends do the same thing at your workplace,” she puts her hand on her chin and looks up in thought. “Hmm, I might just post it anyways. You didn’t fully keep your promise either!~ Oh! And it would be so much better if next time it’s when your parents are-”

The door gets slammed with so much force, that it flies off the hinges and falls flat right behind her. She freezes in her place, staring at the entrance where the door was.

A man with all-too-familiar hair and certain grey clothing jumps down, and turns toward Aiya with a very harsh glare.

… It’s Shouta, and he. Is. PISSED.

------------------------------------------

yikes, lost and fully forgot about the taglist until now.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭-𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 || helmut zemo, bucky barnes and sam wilson x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : your sugar daddy boyfriend is finally out of prison and he brought a few friends to show you off to.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : just over 4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : smut (foursome/group sex, oral m receiving, spitroast; sliiiight dubcon???), established zemo x reader, sugar daddy relationship, ‘sir’ kink, ‘daddy’ kink, pussy spanking, one regular spank, orgasm control, overstimulation, creampie, a bit of cockwarming, exhibitionism, possessiveness (kinda? but also not at all lmao it’s hard to explain), a bit of degradation but plenty of praise as well, subtle cuckolding but without the usual power dynamics there, shitty reconstructed “sokovian” (I wrote it in the latin alphabet but the cyrillic and translations are at the end), unexpected and unnecessary fluff, very subtle angst (basically all in a flashback anyways)

                  You were needlessly anxious as you waited for him to arrive.  It had been your own idea to wait in the jet, and yet you spent every other second glancing out the tiny window, desperate for a glance of the man you missed so dearly.

If someone had told you all those years ago, when this arrangement first began, how easily he would have you wrapped around his finger… you couldn’t have believed them.  It’s just about the money, you would’ve told them, but you would’ve been impossibly wrong.

For a lot of women in this sort of situation, it really was just about the money; likewise, for a lot of men in his situation, it was just about the sex.  But the two of you had something entirely unique, nearly indescribable in fact, that very few could ever understand.  In the beginning it became clear to you that he was more in need of a companion than a lover or girlfriend, specifically.  He was still grieving his wife, still devoted to her completely, but lonely right to his core… angry, even, at the prospect of a life without his family.  You were a shoulder to cry on, first and foremost.

You thought maybe he enjoyed spending money on you because it was his way to protect you, in a way he felt he had failed to protect his family before.

And it was you that fell for him first, for his passion and his kindness before his riches or looks.  Just when you feared that he’d only ever see you as a status symbol or dress-up doll, he returned your affections in spite of his guilt at first and the two of you were inseparable ever since.

Except, of course, when you were separated, and he was imprisoned, and you were left on your own again.  Not that spending his money wasn’t fun or anything, but his loneliness was more sympathetic with each night you spent in that massive bed by yourself, wanting just to feel the warmth of him beside you again.

So, it should be understandable why you were so on edge in anticipation of his arrival.  Your painted fingernails toyed with the hem of the dress you remembered he liked on you most— the silk one that barely covered your legs and was only held up by absurdly thin straps crossing at your back.

The night he bought it for you was clear in your mind like it was only yesterday; his voice in your ear telling you how he couldn’t resist taking such a thoughtful, intelligent woman like yourself and dressing you up like a mindless drolja… or ‘slut’ as it might be said in English.  Just remembering the way he said things like that sent a shiver down your spine as strong as really hearing it, your thighs clenching together on top of the plush leather seat.

Just as you thought you might go crazy waiting for him, you saw the car pull up— your Helmut at the wheel and his two associates in tow— and your heart soared.

Longer than all the years apart combined was the minute you spent waiting to descend the jet’s staircase, hoping to meet him on the taxiway at the exact right moment.  You made sure the jewelry around your wrists and neck was laying just right before finally making your appearance.

The way he looked up at you as you started to walk down towards him… it wasn’t so different from the way he’d looked at you through the glass for the past few years, really, but it felt different.  He certainly looked different to you, without the prisoner’s uniform and looking rather imposing with that massive coat instead.

You were careful to still walk slowly, since you were wearing stilettos and all, even when you wanted more than anything to run to him and jump into his arms.  Instead, you came face to face with him, loving that confident smirk which never seemed to leave his expression, and slipped your arms around his fur-adorned neck.

“Dobrodošla nazad, ljubavi,” you hummed, pressing your lips to his and almost letting out a squeal of surprise when he immediately slipped his tongue into your mouth, kissing you aggressively as his gloved hands gripped you at the waist.

He was rarely so bold, but then again he had been alone in prison for so long with only your words to try to satisfy him.  As much as you cherished being in his arms again, you also got the impression that this wasn’t just about making up for lost time— if that were true, he would’ve skipped the kiss entirely and taken you in the back of his car the moment he saw you.  No, this was a show of dominance, and not only for your benefit; that was clear when one of the men with him cleared his throat loudly and Helmut still didn’t stop.  

But that was very much like him: he was never finished with you until he was satisfied, and not a moment sooner.  His power over you was so effortless because you didn’t mind at all being his plaything… so much so that it was you leaning in for more when he pulled back, making him laugh softly.

“Did you miss me, lutka?” he purred, and you nodded as you bit your lip slightly.

“Always, Helmut,” you nodded, finally taking a moment to look away from him and at the visibly uncomfortable men at his side.  “I heard you freed him,” you said to the man you knew to be James Barnes, “thank you.”

“I’m still not over that,” the other— Sam, as you’d heard— added with a scoff.

“Come on, darling, let’s board the jet and we can talk there,” Helmut suggested, and you nodded as you turned to let them follow.

Of course, you couldn’t be totally sure, but you were pretty confident you could feel three pairs of eyes on your ass as you climbed the stairs.  Honestly, with how short the dress was, there was a risk of your thong being exposed as well, exactly the sort of almost-subtle teasing your Baron loved the most.

Once inside, Helmut showed James and Sam to their seats, and took his own as he instantly pulled you into his lap.  You caught the other two men glancing to the empty fourth seat, knowing there was plenty of room for you two to stay apart, but could they really blame you after how long you’d been alone?

Throughout the takeoff, one of his strong hands rested comfortably on your crossed legs as the other held his glass of champagne, and Sam’s gaze was attached to the way his thumb gently stroked your thigh while James seemed to be doing his best to look literally anywhere else.

“I noticed you haven’t introduced us to your… friend…” Sam trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, yes,” Helmut chuckled as if he actually forgot, “this is the woman who has been managing my estate in my unfortunate absence.”

“You’re trying to tell us this is your accountant?” James grumbled.

“She’s also my lover,” Helmut relented.

“Obviously,” Sam replied, unamused.

“She’s beautiful, no?” Helmut prompted as he ran his fingertips higher up your thigh, only glancing at the other men as he focused mainly on nuzzling against your neck. 

“Yeah, the finest money can buy,” Sam quipped, earning a cold glare from you and your man.  

“Are you with me for my money, draga?” Helmut asked you quietly as he planted a gentle kiss to the spot right where your neck met your shoulder.  You smiled and shook your head, staring right at Sam’s nervous expression.

“No, sir,” you answered aloud, and the title clearly made both of the other men uncomfortable… if, perhaps, in different ways.

“Uncross your legs,” he demanded, though his tone was still soft, and you obeyed right away as he started to lightly move his touch between your thighs.

James began adjusting in his seat and never really stopped, tugging at his jeans in an obvious attempt to conceal the growing bulge between his legs, but you only laughed at his clear embarrassment.

“See how respectful she is?” he cooed his praise, addressing the other men but keeping his eyes on you.  “I know exactly the words to make her obey to my every whim… James, you and her share that quality.”

The man sneered as you suppressed a giggle, squirming in Helmut’s lap impatiently.

“She’s loyal, too, unendingly dedicated,” he continued.  “You know she visited me weekly in Munich, at the very least?  Always by my side… like any good pet.”

A whimper escaped your throat at that term, your gut burning with need as he balanced praise and degradation effortlessly.  You didn’t find it truly demeaning only because you loved being his plaything so much, and because you knew mutual respect was at the core of your relationship with him.  But, still, it was nice to feel small when he was there to keep you safe.

James watched with a small snarl and Helmut slipped his hand into your panties, and Sam licked his lips but shifted his stare to your face instead, just as your eyes started to roll back and your head fell weakly on Helmut’s shoulder.

“And such a precious little pussy as well,” he added darkly, giving you a spank between your legs to make you choke on a squeal.  “Sweet, delicate… much like a Turkish delight, but even more addictive.”

“Please, sir,” you whispered under your breath.

“You want more, don’t you?  Tako očajno…” he chuckled.  You nodded, already starting to soak through the lace and rock your hips.  “You want to be fucked, yes?”

“Yes,” you moaned.

“Be polite and take care of our guests first, draga,” he encouraged, kissing your neck one more time before releasing you from his embrace.

Although you were most interested in being with the man you loved, you were happy to obey whatever he wished— and, frankly, sinking to your knees on the jet’s carpeted floor to crawl towards James wasn’t exactly lacking in its own appeal.

James’ eyes narrowed as Sam’s widened, and you sat up between the spread, denim-clad thighs as you blinked up at him and licked your lips.

He tensed up slightly as your hands delicately slid up his legs, his Adam's apple bobbing with a dry swallow when you grabbed his belt buckle and began to open it.

“You… you don’t have to…” he mumbled, apparently too distracted to finish his sentence.

“Yes I do,” you denied.  “Because he told me to.”

Sam winced and looked away as you unzipped James’ fly and pulled his jeans and boxers down to expose his cock, already hard and leaking a bit from the tip.  You smiled proudly, but chose not to tease him for his eagerness and instead just get right to work; you gripped him at the base and gave a few kitten licks over his shaft, savoring the taste of his precum and looking up at his expression that was equal parts shocked and sultry.

You only spent a moment suckling on the head before skipping right ahead and deepthroating him all the way to base.

“Oh, fuck,” James choked, reaching up grab the seat behind his head as his back arched, making you want to smile though you thankfully kept it down.

“Well-trained, isn’t she?” Helmut interjected proudly.

“Y-yeah,” he answered, his other hand grabbing your shoulder tightly as you began to bob your head.

Occasionally, in your peripheral, you caught Sam looking, and it made you wiggle your hips with the desire to rub your throbbing clit against the floor.  

You got a chance to breathe whenever you pulled back to suck the head and stroke the rest with your hand, and in a few minutes you had already found all the little spots that made him moan the loudest, or made his legs quiver a bit by your sides.

“Stop,” Helmut instructed, and you were already starting to pull off when James hissed and grabbed your head to hold you down.

“N-no, please,” he blurted out.

“She’ll come back to you but Sam is looking rather lonely in the corner over there,” Helmut explained, and James hesitated but let you go.  You wiped your lips and started to move towards Sam, but he shook his head.

“I don’t roll like that, man,” Sam explained, “I don’t want her doing it just because you said so.”

“Darling, won’t you tell us how badly you want to service your new friends?” Helmut challenged, and you swallowed nervously because you were a bit embarrassed to say too much and potentially anger him.  But the sparkle in his eyes didn’t seem like he was leading you into a trap… even if the other two men were confident that was what it meant.  “You find them attractive, don’t you?”

“Um, yes, sir,” you answered hesitantly, “I… saw them, and I wanted to know what their cocks looked like.  And tasted like.”

Helmut smiled and leaned forward, giving you a spank of approval through your dress (which was riding up to show most of your butt anyways).

You looked at Sam expectantly.  “May I please suck your cock, Mr. Wilson?”

His eyes darkened and you knew you were on the right track.  “What happened to ‘sir’?” he asked coyly.

“I only call Helmut ‘sir,’” you explained, “but I could call you something else.”

His finger curled to encourage you to come closer and you crawled up to sit between his legs.

“Call me ‘daddy,’” he finally instructed, opening his belt and pants for you.

“Yes, daddy,” you nodded, keeping your mouth slack for him to push his cock into.  You hummed as the head slid over your tongue, looking up at him as he bit his lip and thrust back into your throat.

“Shit, that’s good,” he whispered, guiding your head at the speed he wanted.  “Who taught you how to suck cock so good, baby?”

Helmut raised his hand and James snorted.

Sam was a bit longer but he was still no challenge to swallow all the way down, and you heard him breathing through his teeth but let your eyes fall shut to focus on your work.

“Is this… how you treat all your guests?” Sam asked tensely between heavy breaths.

“Only those who are at the right place at the right time,” Helmut answered cryptically, but you happened to know this sort of occasion was incredibly rare.  Although it might seem counterintuitive to some, this was his way to re-stake his claim over you, and after so much time apart apparently he felt he had a lot to prove.  “Keep going, but don’t let him come,” another instruction echoed from behind you.  

You pulled back to stroke Sam’s length while you croaked: “yes, sir.”

Helmut had you go back and forth for a while, keeping both men on edge and occasionally allowing you to stroke one while you sucked the other, your own need growing so quickly as you dreamed to have something inside you, anything really.

Obviously, he knew exactly how much having a cock down your throat made you wet and desperate.  And he knew that such a taboo act of, in a certain sense, breaking fidelity with a man as he not only watched but commanded you to do it would get you right on the edge in no time.

He had gotten in your head so quickly after meeting you, memorized everything that made you tick, and not once had he forgotten.  

“I-I’m close,” James warned as you sucked his head, making you slide the tip of your tongue over his slit before you took a break to suck his swollen balls into your mouth.  “Fuck, can I come?”

“Not yet,” Helmut instructed sternly.

You felt him tug you back and into his lap suddenly, and he quickly yanked your dress down to expose your breasts to the men in front of you.

“Her tits are hard, no?” Helmut prompted them, and you watched them both nod as a warm hand reached around from behind you to tweak your hardened nipples.  “Yes, she really loves to get on her knees and choke on cock.  I’d let her do the same to me but I have greater plans for her…”

As if it weren’t obvious what those plans were, he pulled your skirt up to your waist as well, spreading your legs and pulling your flimsy panties aside.  

“Is she wet?” he asked the men and they nodded again.

“Drenched,” Sam chimed in.

Helmut gave another spank to your clit as you shuddered, then rubbing slowly as if to soothe the sting.  “I’ll teach you what happens when you get wet for another man, little girl,” Helmut growled against your ear, “not to mention two.  And they’re Americans, do you have no shame?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” you whispered.

“No, you have nothing to be sorry for,” he corrected.  “I love seeing you act like a whore all for me.”

You hadn’t even realized he’d taken his cock out of his trousers until you felt the thick tip of him prodding at your entrance.  It was already a lot just by itself, but then you had these strangers staring at you and for some reason it only turned you on more.

That ‘some’ reason of course being that you loved your Baron taking ownership over you for anyone to see.  Clearly, prison had given him much more creative ideas than just fucking on a balcony or against the glass of a window.  

“Are you ready for me?” he asked in a hushed voice against your skin which seemed to be burning hot all of a sudden.  

“Yes, sir,” you whispered.

It took a lot not to cry out as he pulled you down and filled you in one deep stroke, your nails digging into the leather of the chair’s armrests at either side.  But more than the sting of pain it felt so perfect, so fundamentally right, and just after your gasp of shock was a sigh of relief.

He sighed along with you and let his forehead fall between your shoulder blades, clearly a bit overwhelmed at being inside you again for the first time in so long.  “Draga...” he breathed, “not that I ever doubted… but you must have been faithful to me; you’re so tight, I know no one has touched you since I left.”

“Only you, sir, nobody but you,” you agreed breathlessly, eyes falling shut.  

He kissed your back as he started to move your body on top of his, the hands at your waist tightening and tugging on the remaining fabric of your dress.  “Tako dobro,” he hissed, “you feel so good, darling, you can’t imagine how long I spent dreaming of being inside you again.”

A tear rolled down your cheek, and it would be impossible to say for sure what caused it— a little bit of everything, really.  

Opening your eyes and noticing the way they were staring at you, you leaned forward and took each of the other men’s hard cocks in your hands, stroking in time with the way you bounced your hips on top of Helmut’s.

The both of them had been on the edge for a bit too long, Sam already biting his lip as James thrust himself up into your palm.

“Fuck, please,” James moaned, “I need to come in your mouth.”

“Come closer then,” you breathed, watching him stand up and bring his cock right to your lips which you eagerly gagged on, any pretense long gone as you sloppily sucked and stroked while Helmut thrust up to slam into you.

“Ohh, fuck, that’s it— gonna come,” he grunted as he reached up to press his hand against the ceiling of the jet, and it all must have hit him rather unexpectedly since the moment his musky taste began to coat your tongue, you heard a clanging sound and realized he had pushed up so hard that he bent the steel interior, his other hand tightening into a fist in your hair.

You moaned happily as you swallowed every drop, still sucking even as James’ moans became loud and higher in pitch.

“Fuck, don’t stop, oh god,” he whined, cock throbbing even after he stopped filling your throat with come.  You reached between his legs and squeezed his balls a bit and you could tell his knees nearly buckled, causing him to finally pull back and tilt your chin up to stare down at you.  “You’re somethin’ else,” he panted, taking a moment to catch his breath before falling back and slumping into his chair.

You looked over at Sam and saw his hand was still lazily guiding yours to stroke over his cock although come already painted his abs and dripped down from his swollen head over your fingers.  “Can I clean up your mess, please, daddy?” you asked, voice a bit hoarse though you couldn’t be sure if that was from the deepthroating or just how hard Helmut was fucking you now.

Pulling your hand back, Sam’s eyes followed as you lapped the thick, hot come from your hand, moaning openly at the taste.  You sucked your fingers down into your throat, not leaving a drop behind.

He leaned back in his chair and began to catch his breath, both of them now staring at you with that exhausted, glazed-over expression.  They looked satisfied, and you considered it your reward for a job well done.

"A belly full of come and a pussy full of my cock, you must be feeling ecstatic," Helmut presumed.

"Yes, sir," you agreed quickly.

All at once he began to fuck you faster, harder, deeper which you hadn't even realized was an option.  He growled a string of the filthiest curses in your ear, in Sokovian so the other men wouldn’t understand, with one hand wrapped around your neck as the other pinched your clit almost too roughly.  Even in your native language you could barely understand it: how could you when he was so deep inside you?

“Will you come, draga?” he finally asked, voice rough with his own desperation.

“Not until you let me, sir,” you moaned, and he chuckled a bit.

“Good girl.”

But wow, the way he rubbed your clit was impossible to ignore, like he was trying to make your promise impossible to keep.  You tightened your jaw, moaning through your teeth now as you fought to keep your orgasm at bay.  

“Please sir, I need to come, please— so close, I’m so close,” you mewled.

“I won’t be much longer, either,” he warned.  "Too long without you has taken its toll, I need to finish."

“Inside me, sir, please,” you begged, “come inside me.”

You felt him nod against the back of your neck.  “Come for me,” he instructed simply, and as obedient as ever, you felt your walls pulsing as pleasure overtook you.  Not even meaning to, you threw your head back, and he had to hold you tightly to keep you from shaking too violently as the waves of sensation washed over you.

The heat of him spilling inside you warmed you from the inside out, making you smile happily through the fog of your high and intentionally tighten your walls around him.  He hissed and throbbed within you, his fingers digging into your hips now as he held you down against him.

He gave a few more lazy thrusts until finally slowing to a stop, both of you catching your breath eventually.

"My... accountant will be keeping my cock warm for the remainder of the flight," Helmut informed the other men, "I hope you don't mind?

"No, no, go ahead," James approved as his head fell back against his chair.

It was still quite a ways to your final destination so it wasn't much of a surprise that you ended up falling asleep in the Baron's arms, something you used to do every night that had been only a dream for years.  Perhaps this afternoon wasn't the reunion you expected, but it was somehow even more perfect than you could've ever wished for.

///

dobrodošla nazad, ljubavi = добродошла назад, љубави = “welcome home, love”

lutka = лутка = “doll”

draga = драга = “dear/beloved”

tako očajno = тако очајно = "so desperate"

tako dobro = тако добро = "so good"

[nuggieatnight]

Sae Itoshi + Oliver Aiku + Ryusei Shidou Headcanons

NSFW (kinky) headcanons 

note: this was a request on my other acc that I shifted onto here, hope you like it anon <3 og request

-> Vulgar language//whipping//spanking//degrading//breeding//biting//scratching//exhibitionism//bondage//dom, switch, sub dynamics//edging//pegging//dynamics//leather gloves

desc: Request for nsfw Sae, Oliver, and Ryusei hcs that became kinda pretty kinky lol. Afab gen and she/her pronouns. Also sorry if it’s too kinky anon, lmao. If you want something more standard lmk 

☾ Characters aged up, 18+ minors dni 

Sae Itoshi 

⬟ Non contact kinky shit

⬟ He doesn’t so much like it when he is touched or things are done to him, but he loves to inflict and watch her slowly be driven mad with desperation and release

⬟ Edging is one of his favorites. Not so much for when he stops at that moment, but rather at the final point when she is whining, squirming, and grinding into the sheets for any kind of friction, unable to even beg for him anymore as her words become gibberish and he knows just a single twist of her nipple or clit will be enough to send her over the edge; when she is destroyed in a beautiful, messy, euphoria

⬟ Her hands will be tied up always almost every time unless he wants to watch you fuck yourself on your fingers or a dildo 

⬟ While he is watching, all he does is degrade her as he leans back in a chair in the corner of a room. He doesn’t even stroke himself. In fact, he rarely has his dick out. He stays typically fully clothed. “Why would I show my body for a dirty whore like you?” 

⬟ He always wears leather gloves when he intends to touch her

⬟ Loves using flogs and whips 

⬟ Any time she would have anything in her pussy, it is a dildo. She has yet earned to have his dick 

⬟ Always indoors, no adventurous type shit. “I’m not risking seeing fucking someone like you.”

⬟ But, he absolutely would make her walk around with a vibrator inside her controlled by him the whole day the whole day 

⬟ No romance or sweetness, apologies. This is strictly fucking.

⬟ Despite it not being an exclusive relationship, he hates seeing her around other men and thinking about her sexually with them. Their next link-up, he punishes her extra hard 

⬟ Degradation is his only language. “Disgusting, begging for me like a mutt.” , “I’d rather die before actually using my bare hand to touch you.”

⬟ Though… if he knew he was extra harsh he may ask if you’re okay and still fine with your ‘arrangements.’  

⬟ He actually leaves your mouth unbound or covered and despises if you try to conceal or muffle your voice. He demands to hear every sound you make

⬟ Mostly this is done in hotels or motels because he often travels  

⬟ He actually brings most of his ‘gear’ himself because of these travels

⬟ Flies her out to him pretty often, but most especially when his opponents are tough and needs a way to unwind

⬟ Commands. She cums when he says he wants her to, no sooner or later. He expects for her to listen and obey… although he loves taking control of a brat

⬟ Phone sex if he can’t get you over. Never ignore his calls.

Oliver Aiku 

⬟ Kinda freaky on the low.

⬟ Praising, both giving and receiving. If she gives him “good boy,” or “you feel so good, you’re doing so good,” then it sends him into overdrive

⬟ Encouragement is big for him too

⬟ Even if they weren’t having sex, if it comes from her mouth, he will get a hard-on unfortunately anywhere in any situation.

⬟ If she does it knowing good and well she teasing, he draws her away to the nearest bathroom stall and fucks the lights out of her

⬟ Cowgirl is his favorite position. He loves feeling her ride him as the squeeze of her pussy synchronizes with the slight changes of expression on her face. 

⬟ He is also partial to standing, lotus, or holding her up against a wall as a way to show off his strength

⬟ Whispering in her ear during sex

⬟ Call him captain and see how much it unravels him

⬟ He has no problem having sex in public. He doesn’t really like risks and does his best to go somewhere secluded and empty, but arenas after his games seem to be common places for them to fuck

⬟ Nicknames and pet names, “you’re too good to me, doll”, “ah, baby, you’re so tight around my cock, I love you, keep going.”

⬟ Grunter. He makes noise. Not too much or too loud, but he definitely does

⬟ When he is in the zone, his tongue slightly sticks out of his mouth

⬟ He loves to get on his knees, put her legs over his shoulders, and eat her out, watching from below as he groans with each slight bite of her lip or moans that escape her mouth

⬟ So sorry to those who it may concern, he uses a condom if she isn’t on birth control or using any other contraceptive

⬟ Even when he doesn’t use a condom, he likes to pull out and see his cum on your body

⬟ He loves to suck on her tits as well

⬟ Threesomes. He loves to throw another girl in the mix, sometimes without asking the other

⬟ He loves to hear his name moaning from her mouth

⬟ His favorite is over-stimulation, allowing her to ride out her orgasm and continuing to mercilessly grind into her, until she is unable to to hold herself up on him, which is when he switches into the two other positions

⬟ He starts off a little slow, tons of foreplay and teasing. Although, he lasts rather long and while finishes a little quick, is able to recover quickly and keep on going

Ryusei Shidou

⬟ Freak-a-deak.

⬟ Rough, always. He loves drilling into her as hard as he can

⬟ His favorite positions, for when he is on top or bottom, are pretzel dip and doggy

⬟ Jumps right into sex with not much foreplay, though he really doesn’t need a lot to get horny

⬟ He is definitely into breeding. No condoms. He hides those as well as her plan b and birth control pills 

⬟ He does that and anything to get her mad at him, cursing at him, degrading the shit out of him. Anything that makes her more rough with him.

⬟ Switch. Hear me out, hear me out. He is pretty dominant, but if someone is able to combat that or top it, he is willing to submit

⬟ He does not mind being pegged.

⬟ Choking, either him or you. Nearly passing out from having your hands tight around his neck, tongue lulled out, all while either being fucked or still somehow functioning well enough to fuck into her is his absolute state of bliss

⬟ Buy a leash and collar for him and see how quickly he puts that shit on

⬟ Growls instead of just groaning or grunting

⬟ Consensual non-consent roleplaying

⬟ Mutual biting and scratching. If he bleeds even better 

⬟ He doesn’t care where the hell y’all are and if there are people watching, he will keep going the same way as before with a shitty grin at the onlookers, “what? Jealous you don’t have pussy this good?”

⬟ Long rounds. They are minimal, but he doesn’t finish quick at all. If you start something with him, expect it to last for hours without an end in sight. He hates breaks but if you really need one and you are demanding enough, he can be patient 

⬟ He loves watching his cum drip out of her pussy after he thoroughly finished inside multiple times

⬟ If you aren’t damn near pulling his hair out of his skull, then don’t fucking pull at all

⬟ He likes the wall, the ground, the shower, the stall, the theater–anywhere but the boring ass bed

⬟ He loves to spit in her mouth

⬟ He doesn’t always like to do the same thing all the time and is always open to any new and exciting ideas she has 

⬟ Watches porn or puts it on while they’re having sex, sometimes mirroring their positions

⬟ Definitely brings out his phone or camera and records and takes pictures he likes to get off to later

⬟ He also likes to show them off to her as if showing off photos of when they went to the zoo, “Hey, remember this? Wasn’t that fun-” she snatched and hid the phone, bringing his ear close to her mouth, “we’re at fucking Chili’s with your teammates, keep it the together dumbass.” He purred and winked. “Yes ma’am.”

[midgardianweasley]

hiii i love your fics so much omg! anyway, i have a request that i've been daydreaming about that haha: nat and r get into a really big fight about smth (anything but cheating pls my heart won't be able to take that) and r kind of shuts down, and wanda & carol become super protective of her and follow her everywhere making sure she's ok. (and they're also glaring at nat any chance they get) but then nat comes into r's room one night and apologizes and they make up and snuggle and its soft hours

thank you so much! and of course lovely! here you go<33

Priorities

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha has been missing date nights, leaving Y/N embarrassed for the final time. When confronted, an argument unfolds, but can they come back from it?

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: some swearing, some self-neglect

Message/ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist! <3

“Another drink, miss?” The waiter in a smart, black tux asked you for the second time this evening, a part of you felt that it was out of pity as you sat alone at a table for two, and had been for the last two hours.

You were supposed to be meeting your girlfriend tonight for date night, you got all dressed up, makeup applied and hair styled perfectly, which had taken forever, only to be stood up. You wouldn’t have overly minded if this was a first occurrence, you would’ve brushed it off and rescheduled for another night. Which is what you had done, two missed date nights ago.

This was your third night of sitting alone in a crowded, candlelit restaurant as couples around you glanced over with a sympathetic gaze, which had only made you feel worse. Your girlfriend should be here. ‘Natasha should be here’, you thought. You looked up at the kind waiter, giving him a gentle smile before shaking your head.

“No, thank you. I think I'm calling it a night.” You spoke as you hurried to gather your things and get out of there as soon as possible, trying to hold back tears that you refused to let fall, not in front of all of these strangers. You hated this. You hated feeling so exposed. So vulnerable. You couldn’t help but feel anger bubble inside of you, thoughts of Natasha being the only thing currently plaguing your mind, most along the lines of; ‘What was her excuse this time?’ ‘Who is she with instead?’, but, there was one in particular that you couldn’t help but focus on.

‘She promised.’

You hadn’t realised you were crying until you were in the taxi, catching a glimpse of yourself in the rearview mirror when the driver had adjusted it slightly to see the cars behind you, in the process, you’d also caught her eyebrows raise in concern and it wasn’t long before she started conversation.

“You okay back there?”

You laughed somewhat bitterly, but it wasn’t towards her. “Nothing I can't handle.”

Your response didn’t seem to settle her worry as she turned quickly and shot you a sad smile before returning her eyes to the road.

“Boy troubles?”

“Girl.” You rubbed your face, trying to rid yourself of any tear stains that may be lingering and messing up your once really pretty makeup. Not that it really mattered at this point.

“Ah, been there.” She held up her left hand, showing you the shimmering diamond on her finger. “The wife and I have had our fair share of arguments and fallouts, some of them included a situation like this one.”

“Crying in the backseat of a taxi?”

“Crying in the backseat of a taxi.” She laughed lightly, making you smile for the first time tonight.

“It had always worked out though, we’ve never been stronger.”

“Congratulations.” You looked towards the woman “I hope I could be so lucky.” You mumbled, though still loud enough for her to hear. You were mad at Natasha, more disappointed really, but you still loved her, dangerously so. She could stand you up for another 50 dates, and you’d still be head over heels. Angry, but your love would never falter.

“I’m sure you will be. If there’s one thing I've learned over the years, it’s that things have a way of falling into place eventually.”

Pondering her words, you looked out of the car window and noticed that you were pulling up to Stark Tower. It wasn’t long before the car came to a complete stop, the woman turning round to you and beginning to speak again.

“You’ll be okay. It’s obvious you love her, okay? Speak to her. I’m sure it’ll be alright.” She looked at you with nothing but kindness in her eyes, which you did your best to return with a smile. You reached into your purse, handing her the money owed, plus a tip.

“Thank you for the help.”

“Don’t worry about it, go get her.” She winked as you got out of the car and watched her drive away, quickly taking yourself inside to avoid freezing to death as the cold wind blew harshly. Kicking your heels off, you set off with one task at hand. Talk to Nat.

__________________________

“Hey, have any of you guys seen Nat?” You addressed some members of the team who were hanging out in the Kitchen, fixing themselves a snack or just conversing with one another. The second they looked up and took in their appearance, you could’ve sworn their faces paled and saddened slightly as if they knew what had happened.

“I think I saw her head off to train a while ago, but I'm not sure if she’s still there.” Carol replied, her face morphing into one of seriousness. She knew about the missed dates, having found you one night looking completely defeated in one of your nicest dresses and heels. She, alongside Wanda, who had found you both later that night, had spent their night comforting you and reassuring you that she probably hadn’t meant it. They didn’t know what to do, they’d never seen you look so sad before, no matter how much you told them it was okay, the pang in their chest for their best friend hadn’t ceased.

You nodded, quietly thanking Carol and wandered off in search for your girlfriend.

It didn’t take long, she was still training when you’d walked into the gym, sweat practically pouring off of her. Your heart softened briefly when you saw her, her fiery red hair tied back into a ponytail with loose strands all over the place, wearing a black t-shirt, grey sweatpants and a deadpan face as she attacked the dusty punching bag with such force that you’re surprised it hasn’t flown off of the chains yet.

She hadn’t noticed you had walked in, still giving all of her focus to her punches. Maybe she just hadn’t heard you?

“Hi Nat.”

Nothing.

“Nat”

All you could hear was the furious rattling of chains, still not getting a response from the redhead. With a sigh, you decided to try another approach. You stepped closer to her, still keeping a little distance, and leaned forward to tap her shoulder, instantly grabbing her attention. She flung herself around, arm still in midair, her closed fist almost coming into contact with your face.

You don’t know what you expected when she turned around and finally acknowledged your presence, but you definitely didn’t expect to be met with a scowl.

“Seriously? in the middle of training? I could’ve hit you.” She huffed as she turned back to her previous position.

“Sorry. I just wanted to come in and talk to you.”

“About?”

You paused, expecting her to look at you again, but she didn’t.

With a small sigh, you continued. “you missed date night again. I waited for you, but you were a no show.”

“Right, yeah, date night” she muttered, seeming to be unfocused as her eyebrows furrowed and her head kept darting around the room, looking anywhere but at you. “I’ll make the next one.”

“This is the third one you’ve missed this month.” You said firmly, wanting her to understand that this can’t keep happening, of course cancellations or rearrangements were bound to happen sometimes, but she’s just not showing up and then leaving you in the dark as to knowing why.

“I told you, i’ll make the next one.” She walked over to the bench, picking up her water bottle and taking a swig of water, looking directly at you, you look back at her and she just looks so, unbothered.

“I don’t believe you, Nat. You say you’ll make it up to me and then I sit there again, hoping that you’ll be there this time, but you don’t turn up. And now I come back and you’re just training. Could it not have waited? Was that seriously more important?” You raised your voice now, all the anger and frustration you’d felt earlier coming back up to the surface.

You just wanted an explanation, or something to justify how she was acting, but she gave you nothing, not even an attempt, only adding fuel to the fire.

“Why are you getting so annoyed? You should know better than anyone that this is my job.”

“I just explained that to you! Which is more than what you’re giving me right now.”

“Okay, fine, forgive me for not making everything about you for a minute.” She spat bitterly towards you, her temper starting to go as the discussion became more heated.

“Seriously? That’s how you’re seeing this?” If you weren’t so unbelievably irritated, you would’ve laughed at her response.

“You’re being selfish. So I missed a date or two, you’re blowing this out of proportion once again, it’s infuriating.” Selfish?

You raised both your hands, as if in surrender. It was one thing to ditch you, it was another thing to then insult you for speaking up about it. With a tight lipped smile, oozing with sarcasm, you decided that you’d had enough.

“I don’t need to listen to this.”

She shrugged her shoulders, adjusting the gloves she’d just put on. “Then don’t, i’m busy anyways.”. This time, you did laugh.

“What a fucking surprise.”. And with that, you turned on your heels and walked out, hearing the echo of punches fill the room once again, every one feeling like a punch to the stomach.

Maybe these are things falling into place, just not the place you’d hoped.

________________________

You were still in bed at noon the next day, unable to bring yourself to get up and face the world. You didn’t need to worry about anything in the confinement of your bed, even more so considering it wasn’t the bed you shared with Natasha.

After speaking, well, arguing with her last night, you went straight to your shared bedroom, gathered some clothes and your essentials, and slept in your old room that you used to stay in before the two of you started dating. It felt wrong. You always spent your nights with a warm feeling of love washing over you as your girlfriend pressed kisses all over your face, tangling your limbs together in the process.

It wasn’t the same. You felt cold, a type of cold that no heating or blankets could solve. You lacked a weight on your waist, fingertips stroking the skin that was exposed due to your top riding up slightly. Instead, the only comfort you had was the small bear you’ve kept for the las year. It was one that Natasha had given you after she won it at the funfair on your third date, and you could never bring yourself to part with it, remembering how happy she looked when she handed it to you, and the butterflies you felt just from seeing her look so pleased.

The bear was a little worn and torn now, it had been ripped in a couple of places, now replaced with a little sewn on patch of material that didn’t exactly match the shade of brown, and one of the eyes had started to fall off, but you liked that it was different. The assassin had tried to offer to replace it and buy you a new one, but you’d always refuse, insistent that you would keep that bear with you for the rest of time. Even now, when the two of you weren’t speaking, you still held onto it with a death-tight grip.

A knock on the door snapped you out of your daydream.

“Y/N, open up, It’s me.” A familiar voice shouted through. Carol.

“And me!” Wanda.

You heard some muttering outside of the door, something along the lines of Carol suggesting they break the door down, immediately being told that it was unnecessary by the Sokovian. Feeling pretty against the idea of having a doorway with no door, you called out for them.

“Guys, it’s unlocked.” You were quiet, but it was clear that they had heard you as the faint talking stopped altogether and you heard them walk in and shut the door behind them with a ‘click’.

Wanda was the first to approach you, kneeling down beside the bed so that she was at eye level with you, pulling the bed covers down a little to uncover more than your forehead. Once she could see your eyes and nose, she sent you a warm smile.

“Hi sleepy. It’s noon.”

“I know.” She frowned when she heard you speak, your voice raspy from your crying through the night. She hated seeing you like this, she loved both you and Natasha, and it hurt to see you so sad because of the woman you adored.

“We should go and eat something, it’ll help.”

“‘M not hungry.” You pressed your head further into the pillow, the last thing you wanted to do was eat, your stomach already feeling like it was twisting with every minute that passed.

“C’mon, i’ll make you your favourite.” the blonde winked, leaning against your wardrobe.

“Your special pancakes?”

“With extra whipped cream.” She sang, playfully trying to encourage you to leave the bed. You had to hand it to her, she knew you too well.

WIth a brief look between the two, you rubbed your eyes and threw the covers off dramatically, sighing and ensuring that they knew you didn’t approve of this. They knew you were joking, even if you weren’t, all they cared about was making sure you were okay, knowing that when you felt like this, being left alone allows you to neglect yourself and get really low. They don’t mind if you dislike them for a little while, as long as you are looked after.

“There we go! Well done.” Wanda stroked your back and led you towards the door where Carol held it open for you.

“No breaking it down behind my back.” You shot towards her, slightly amused at the guilty look on her face as she realised you’d heard her quarrel beforehand. Shaking her head, she nudged you out of the door, and the three of you made your way into the kitchen.

_______________________

Carol had stuck to her promise of preparing a sweet treat for you, a stack of fluffy pancakes sat in front of you, topped with whipped cream and two cherries on top. You ate slow, still a little cautious of how stable your stomach felt. You could see your two friends talk with one another, not wanting to stare and make you uncomfortable, but occasionally looking over silently to check in on you.

You were feeling pretty content as you sat at the counter, munching away with the two avengers for company. It was only when you heard a voice that you could recognise anywhere.

“Hi guys.”

Not daring to look up, you ket your eyes focused on the food in front of you, hoping that if you just stay quiet, you’ll be invisible to the human eye.

“Hey Nat.”

“Hi.”

Wanda and Carol replied, wary of any interaction between the pair of you that could unfold into something neither of you wanted or that would lead to any regrets.

You lifted your head slightly, able to see the daggers Carol was throwing at Nat, not impressed with her being in the room. You both had always been quite close, often talking about life before becoming superheroes that protect the planet, in her case, planets. In the process, she’d found herself having a soft spot for you, wanting to protect you from anything that could bring you harm. Which you were grateful for, but her glaring was terrifying sometimes, you were more grateful for the fact that her powers weren’t in her eyes, otherwise you would’ve definitely become single five minutes ago.

You could see Natasha out of the corner of your eye, she was filling up the bottle she used for when she was training, her eyes weren’t on what she was doing, instead, she was trying to subtly look up at you through the hood of her eyes. You subconsciously took the opportunity to really take in her appearance.

Her hair hadn’t been tended to since you last saw her, half of it was hanging out of her ponytail, most of it falling in front of her face. Her eyes looked glassy and bloodshot, like she had been crying recently and you could’ve sworn that was your t-shirt she was wearing. The sight sent a wave of sadness over you, wanting nothing more than to leap over the counter and pull her into your arms and tell her things were fine, that the two of you were fine. But you stayed seated, too nervous to make a move.

You didn’t know it, but she regretted speaking to you last night, instantly realising what she’d done after she came back to her room to find it empty and half of your stuff gone. She knew immediately where you’d gone and would’ve gone through to talk it through with you, but she didn’t think it would help. She wanted you to have your time and space before approaching the situation.

With that, she tightened the lid on her bottle, sent you an apologetic smile and walked out of the room, leaving behind an awkward atmosphere in her absence.

“You alright?” Wanda asked

“Yeah, yeah no I'm okay. I’m feeling a little tired though, I'll catch you guys in a bit, okay?” You stood from your seat, not giving either of the two a chance to stop you as you walked out and back to bed. What a day.

_______________________

Hours had gone by now and you were back wrapped up under your bed covers, still clinging onto your bear. You hadn’t bothered to change, you went straight to bed after walking in the door. You’d managed to get some sleep earlier, not a lot, but it was something.

You tossed and turned, trying to find any way of being comfortable so your body could rest and your mind could shut off, but it was deemed to be impossible. All you could think about was your argument with Nat, and how she looked so upset earlier. The thought alone triggered the waterworks again, this time, you didn’t even attempt to stop them.

Only a couple of minutes had passed before there was yet again, another knock on your door. You rolled your eyes, really not wanting any more visitors, you were grateful for the help, but you really wanted to be alone.

“Guys, I’m fine! It’s late, get some sleep.” You called out, waiting to hear retreating footsteps, but they never came. Huh. That’s weird? You brushed it off quickly, assuming that it must’ve just been too quiet to hear, which you wouldn’t put past you due to all the sniffling you’ve been doing in an attempt to silence your crying.

You were wrong. The person at your door hadn’t walked away. They also weren’t Wanda or Carol. Instead, it was who you least expected to be in your room at god knows what time at night after the events that had unfolded recently.

“Hi.” The redhead whispered, worrying that if she spoke any louder, you’d be able to hear her voice shake with nerves, or the huge lump in her throat that wouldn’t budge.

You froze on the spot when you realised who it was, not entirely sure how you were gonna play this. Realistically, you might as well just see what it is she wants, it couldn’t hurt, could it?

“Hey.”

Her footsteps were practically silent but still felt deafening as she stepped closer to you, cringing slightly at how tense and forced all of this felt. It was her fault, she knew that, she hoped you did too. She didn’t want you blaming yourself for her actions, although she couldn’t say anything if you did, she was the one who had insulted you and planted the thought in your head, and she felt every fibre in her body beg for you to forgive her.

Approaching with caution, she walked up to the top of the bed, kneeling where Wanda had been earlier, but unlike Wanda, she didn’t reach out for you. She didn’t feel she had the right. Not now. She quickly took note of your eyes and how they were drooping and red, just like how hers had been earlier, which is how she could know in an instant that you had just been crying. She felt like a knife had gone through her chest at the sight, knowing that she had done that to you. She’d let you down so much that it had brought you to laying in bed alone and crying.

You mumbled something incoherent, completely muffled by the covers that were blocking your mouth.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you through the cover, could you tell me that again?”

You looked down a little, debating on doing it or just asking her to leave this conversation for another day. ‘But, she was already here, so you may as well get on with it.’ you thought, and with that, you tugged the covers down a little, letting Natasha see your full face now, unable to stop a tiny hint of a smile creeping up on her face. Your nose was runny, your eyes were puffy, and your face was flushed, but that didn’t change the fact that she still believed you to be the most beautiful woman she’d seen.

“Has something h-happened?” You hiccuped, noticing the frown take over her features as she maintained her eye contact with you.

“Yeah. i was a complete idiot.”

“Nat-”

“No, no, please. I want to explain. I need to explain. Please?” She pleaded, not caring how desperate she might’ve looked.

You paused for a minute before sighing gently, nodding at her and giving her a non-verbal go ahead to continue. She took a deep breath, looking away for a second then looking back at you before you could even blink. You could see her hands tremble a little, and while you were upset with her, you couldn’t leave it alone. You reached your hand out from under the cover and held it out to her, offering it for her to hold. She grabbed it without hesitation, squeezing it gently as a single tear fell, gathering the courage to say her next words.

“I have no excuse for what I did. There is nothing I could say that would make my actions plausible or acceptable, I shouldn’t have treated you like that or said what I did, and I understand if you can’t forgive me, or don’t want to. But I needed-, no, I need you to know, I'm sorry. I’m so sorry, Y/N. You deserve better.”

More tears had fallen down her face at this point, her thumb not ceasing in their circular movements on the back of your hand. She didn’t know if this was going to be the last time she felt your hand in hers, so with every circle, she was savouring the moment, no matter how badly she wished it was under different circumstances.

You shuffled a little so you were in a more upright position, hoping that it would make speaking easier. You’d taken in every word, and while you were hurt, extremely hurt, you saw how remorseful she was. Her face showed no sign of humour or like she was lying. You could always tell when she was lying, her eyebrow always twitched a little, which you would always be in stitches about when she tried to say she didn’t eat your last cookie and her eyebrows would be moving like mad. They were as still as stone when she was speaking this time.

“You really hurt me, Nat. I didn’t think I was asking for much, just some time with you, that was all. And you left me every time, for work and with no notice. It was embarrassing.” She nodded in acknowledgement as she listened. “A-and then to come back and witness you being so, so, hostile, with me, I didn’t understand what I'd done.”

She gulped audibly before speaking again. “You hadn’t done a thing. Not a thing. I-I threw myself into work, into training. The last mission, I was sloppy, I wasn’t on my A game, it almost ended up with other people seriously hurt. So I thought-” She took a shaky breath in. “I thought, if I trained harder, It would mean I would be better for the next mission. But I disregarded everything else on the radar, including you, and then I got so mad at myself for it that I ended up taking it out on you instead. You don’t have a selfish bone in your body, and it was out of order for me to ever say so. It was wrong, and I don’t think I can apologise enough.`` She gave you an apologetic smile, tears streaming down her face steadily now.

“You know, when I came home from the restaurant, I had this driver.” You smiled. “Nice woman, she’s got a wife. She was telling me that it wasn’t easy for them. They had their ups and downs, their fights and bitterness. But they always found their way back to each other.” You whispered so softly that if there was any other noise in the room, Natasha wouldn’t have heard a word.

“And, when we argued, I really didn’t think we were going to be able to come back from that. I thought that maybe our time had expired.” You sniffled, your own tears trailing their way down your cheeks. Without thinking, she wiped them away, her palm pressing onto your warm cheek as you nuzzled into it, still finding comfort in her touch.

“I don’t want us to expire, Nat.”

There it was. There was the sentence that turned silent tears into fully body wracking sobs, your hands instinctively going to pull away and cover your face, instead, Natasha brought herself up to sit on the side of your bed, hastily bringing you into her chest and her free hand combing its way through your hair.

She rocked you back and forth, letting you get everything out of your system, no matter how much it hurt to hear.

“Shh, I’ve got you. I’m so sorry, moya lyubov.”

Your sobs soon died down with Nat’s help, sobs turning into faint pants with how tired you were and how much energy it had taken out of you. You looked up at her softly, as she smiled down at you.

“I love you, Natty.” You murmured, the words making the assassin’s heart grow fonder for you, if that was ever possible.

“I love you more.”

“Can you stay with me tonight? I can’t sleep without you.”

“Of course. Anything for you.” She leaned over you, bringing the blankets back up and over you, catching a glimpse of some brown fur among the darkness. She knew exactly what it was. She picked up up with the blankets and handed it to you, happiness overtaking her as she saw your eyes light up at the teddy she won for you.

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you, Detka.” She pressed a kiss to your temple before settling down, holding you tight in her grasp, refusing to let you go for anything or anyone, not that you were complaining, you’d missed this.

Nothing had to be decided tonight, there was no rush for discussion. Sure, there were still things to talk through and work out, but that can wait. All that mattered right now, was that Natasha was there. She was holding you in her arms and you felt every ounce of love and apology she could give you. And that was enough for now.

taglist: @natashas-favourite-knives @wandaromanova @wvnda-maximoff

[puppetmaster13u]

We keep having so long things lol. Thank everything for the Keep Reading lmao.

Oh my god the Bats having an emergency bottle of Gotham water for emergency transformations that’s a wonderful idea. Probably more like a smoke bomb but water that they can smash open. Water balloon/bomb? Idk if it makes sense lol. 

 Gotham definitely has like, crazy skincare stuff for if you’re going Outside. Things to help you not dry out or go crazy because of so much sudden sun. It’s almost always at least partially cloudy in the city after all. Lotions to help combat drying out, extra large water bottles that hold gallons worth of water and keep it chilled. Honestly along with dried skin issues I bet they have some dehydration issues. Gotham is pretty damp and humid being surrounded by water and partially built upon a swamp so they probably blame it on that. Dumping water on themselves is definitely a thing lmao. One of the teen titans have walked into Dick (or any of the Robins really) laying soaking in the bathtub fully clothed so many times they joke about it getting sunny and warm out soon. (Because lets be honest they get dried out more in hotter weather lol) 

 Ras, pointing at the JL: These imbeciles would fall apart without you, and you know it! How can I trust them to guard your back?! How can I trust them to guard my grandchildrens’ backs?! Bruce who has had this argument so many times: *Large sigh around his cup of tea* Dusan & Nyssa: I agree with Father, how did you even find them? Bruce, sighing again and so tempted to say fuck it and let them continue testing the JL but they’re his friends sooo: 

 The poor hero is freaking out about the vampire-thing your so right lmao. Just kind of frozen as Batman uses his teeth (his hands are full with hungry baby) to pull off his glove and take a fleshy bite of his wrist. And then lets the baby gnaw at the wound while he finishes preparing the bottle like what the fuck- Bruce, far too used to Gotham, sees nothing wrong with this. The rule is if you spill blood you clean it up, and he did the same thing with all his kids! It helps build poison resistance! Which a lot of them needed with not all of them exactly being from Gotham. 

 Oh my, Amanda was not expecting the mini batbrats to be so much trouble. They may have been born to someone not from Gotham, but Bruce’s genes run true there. Very uncanny valley horror movie children even as babies. And I bet the very moment they’re anywhere near Gotham again, there’s a loud thump. And something big causing the boat that the Suicide Squad (Why are they transporting a pair of babies huh? One is like, 1 at most and the other is younger than that! Seriously who wants several murderers to do that-) is in to tilt. It’s the first time practically any of them have encountered a Gothamite. And Bruce? He may not have heard those chirps and squeaks before, but he still recognizes them. Talia recognizes them. Selina recognizes them. All of the babies made them when they were hungry. The only reason none of them died is due to Bruce’s own no-killing rule- and a bit of King Shark retreating with a few clinging to him because holy fuck Predator- Predator Following Me! 

 Alina was a one-night stand (hypothetically) in canon and she’s around 6. Though again we never get confirmation on if she’s actually Bruce’s, and the other father option is Joker. But she’s adorable and even got one up on Joker at one point after being kidnapped and it’s great. 

Bruce with his 15+ Children & 2 Wives: I am very happy. Also getting crushed right now, but very happy. 

 You are so right, so many people think he has scars from all his fights and well, it being Gotham. But no, most of them are from his kids. Lots of bite and claw marks that become more visible in his aquatic form (mostly due to how he’s usually wearing full armor or a sweater lol) Ones not from his kids are like, major injuries (like being speared through with rebar) or ones that are huge. There’s definitely debates the first time someone sees a shirtless Batman, probably during training or perhaps after a mission where there’s some sort of spores or something similar that requires stuff to be cleaned. Also staring. Half because Bruce is a fit man, and half because holy fuck it looks like he got mauled multiple times. There’s even a recent wound on his shoulder that he doesn’t seem to notice! 

 Poor Aquaman at the gala is just inwardly nervously laughing as he huddles by the fish tanks. Hilariously I bet he finds comfort in Talia who doesn’t give off the uncanny valley feel yet when she brings him into a discussion with who he’s pretty sure is one of Gotham’s rogues (Ivy) about water conservation. Wonder Woman is having a pleasant discussion with one Al Ghul about history. She’s having quite a bit of fun while everyone else is inwardly screaming and crying. Unknowingly she is the One member of the JL who has gotten his approval. The Wayne children are purposely freaking the JL out. Pulling full horror movie children. Cass and Jason are being horror twins and Tim has pulled his sickly victorian child self to the full. Tiny baby Helena steals the show for the hour or so she’s there. All the other socialites coo over her and how adorably bitey she is. 

Damian (exactly 10 apples tall): These are my younger siblings, if you make them cry I shall cut your tendons and force feed you your own eyes Gothamites: *cooing over adorable older brother* JL & other Guests: *nervous laughter* 

Honestly Bruce wouldn’t have freaked out about the scales on Dick’s arms if the kid hadn’t been freaking out. He was worried about the kid being injured or sick when he came running in clutching his arm and crying. Bruce then had to calm the crying nine year old & had the oh shit we forgot to explain this moment lol. It is a lesson he takes to heart with every future child, even the ones he’s certain come from Gotham lol. 

 I think Alfred and Ras should have a frienemy situation. A friendly rivalry. Would maybe try to poison each other during tea. It is a very petty friendship, though they do enjoy each other’s company. Will they admit that ever? Not even upon the threat of death. They’re friends but tea rivals. 

You know what? Bruce in a dress for most galas. Most of the Gothamites in a dress. Dresses and skirts are definitely seen as very gender neutral in Gotham. To the Outsider reporters confusion because surely someone is reporting on this?? No? O-okay??? No one is talking about the (to the Outsider’s) crazy fashion crimes going on?? Why are those colors going together!? Why the feather boa? Why those shoes? Oh the patterns- isn’t Gotham supposed to be all dark and moody!? (Bruce, wearing what looks like is all black at first snickers at the pained expressions of reporters & turns, revealing that even his clothing is iridescent)

 Oh my god Oliver learning about Bruce being a sea horror but being oblivious to all of Gotham being the same. He came over when it finally reached outside of Gotham that lovable himbo Brucie Wayne has a son now…. Which is about a year after Dick first became his ward and has just officially adopted him lol. Bruce was not expecting Oliver to practically slam the door open and go, “YOU HAVE A KID!?” while holding Dick from the edge of the pool (to help him build up his tail strength, the kid wants to be able to do flips in the water). They both stare at each other for a solid minute with their brains stalling. There is a bit of screaming and Bruce just blurts out an “I CAN EXPLAIN-” He admits about the Curse and Oliver just assumes that it’s like, a Wayne curse and not, say, a Gotham curse. (He does not realize Dick is not a bio kid, or any of the Wayne kids who mostly have black hair, blue eyes, or both, are not bio kids lmao) 

Oh my god, imagine Black Manta having the bright idea to set up in Gotham waters since the atlanteans avoid it. This is a Mistake. A Very Big Mistake with Sharp Teeth- PFFT, oh my god imagine Batman, who has no clue what to do for any sort of gift. And knows any food gifts he could give would be deadly- besides Superman who keeps giving him puppy dog eyes. So he just… gives fish. Everyone now has a pet fish. Or hermit crab. Or a corn snake in one case. His kids do the same thing. M’gann is delighted with her growing amount of tree frogs and Wally has a hermit crab now. Dick gifts him different shells that he’s made to mimic the different hero merch too. 

(I also give pics of Terry & Matt (from Batman Beyond) & Alina Shelley)

@puppetmaster13u

It was getting too long so...

Okay this was VERY long but I love it all. So much food, and very much alive when possible. And yeah they're very much venomous.

... oh gods you're making me hungry for food that isn't even safe even if it existed 😂

Also, I feel like Ivy's plants would, ah, sometimes move if they don't like where they're currently planted. If your neighbor is taking better care of your flowers then you might wake up and see them over there, you just learn to deal. 😅

Ooooo I love that. And I feel like, to Aquaman, it would be like speaking in Pig Latin + Esperanto mixed with the heaviest Scottish accent ever. He can tell it's words, but he can't really understand it.

Also, Bruce singing lullabies to the kids, just imagine. Jason or Dick or anyone shows up having a panic attack and Bruce starts calming them down. First in English, then aquatic, and slowly morphing into a lullaby.

Oh definitely, those other heroes will be struggling. Almost feel bad for them.

The medical professionals must be paid well, and Gotham University probably ends up with a very heavy metal degree that most people might assume is for vets not human doctors. 😂

Oh my gods Helena yes. Poor Supes, and I love the JL freaking out. Also, her bottle HAS to be a little pink, because of the blood that's probably in it. Also, I imagine they're born with weak venom, and drinking their parents' blood lets them process and produce stronger toxins.

I bet Dick and the other kids probably have the same weird food habits and their teammates aren't really sure what they're supposed to do. Sometimes Tim will fall asleep in the middle of lunch and whoever is in the same room will get to see his lunch run away. Probably a bit unnerving. 🤣

I like the idea they might do them for 'major holidays'. Not on the holiday, because Calendar Man (on the holidays is Gotham only, they fully expect him to show up, he's practically invited without saying anything outright), and that's the Outsider Galas. Not just one a year, but not like 20 of em either.

And yeah, aside from runaway food, Tim is pretty good with outsiders. He probably wouldn't eat 'normal' (normal for Gotham anyway) around his team if he didn't trust em or something either. This is probably another reason Bruce made him CEO. 😅

Yesss uncanny valley please. Everyone is freaking out internally, and yet at the same time they can tell they're safe... for now. Servers doing their job, and Gothamites not revealing anything, unless someone does something wrong.

Yesss the rogues. Honestly I just want an AU where the rogues are basically family.

||=====||=====||

"Oh yeah that's aunts Harley and Ivy, they can be fun but don't drink the wine."

Then (controversial I know but also heavily depends on the AU)

"That's Uncle J, we're on tense terms with him but he's got the best drinks if you don't mind letting a bit."

Maybe

"There's not-dad Harv-"

"he's Uncle T right now-"

"-that's Uncle T, don't gamble with him or ask about his coin collection unless you want to stay a while."

Or

"Don't mind Uncle Cobbles, he's a little competitive with B about their family histories, but other than that and birds he's pretty calm."

Even

"Yeah don't mind Uncle John, he's probably more nervous than you are, doing spook him and you'll be fine."

||=====||=====||

Yesss so many photos.

Also, there's two wedding photos. One he shows to outsiders, the other is up at the major as a painting and is the same wedding photo but underwater.

... Ras don't bother your son-in-law's friends please, they have enough on their plate. Seriously, stop. 😂😅

Bruce probably confuses everyone even more by knowing the assassins.

Oooo yes. Sharks, aquariums, oh my. I love all the animals you mentioned too.

... so I randomly looked up 'Victorian modern punk' because why not and...

This was the top result.