#gifts n comms for me

[actualbird]

thank you sOOOSOSOSOSOSOSOOO MUCH TO HAZEL @seven-tastic FOR THIS ADORABLE HARPY!LUKE I COMMISSIONED THEM FOR!!!! hes so proud of his little nest now everybody tell him he did a good job right now, and while youre at it, go look at hazel's art because everything they do is FANTASTIC

[actualbird]

me reading this fic like

THE WAY THIS HAD ME MAKING LITTLE SCREES OF DELIGHT HHHHH, sam this is such a delightful read and gOD I LOVE IT SO MUCH, THANK U SO SO MUCH //INSERT ONE BILLION TEARY EYED EMOJIS!!!!

The problem was this: Marius had explicitly pointed out that no strings were attached. They could see other people, screw other people, and no one would catch feelings because it was a hassle. Luke had readily agreed to those terms as he explained to them while eagerly trying to get out of his pants. Quick, easy, simple.

Jokes on him, three hook-ups later and he’s already imagining what he would wear to the wedding.

or alternatively: fwb to lovers bc they deserve nice things

hAPPY BIRTHDAY ZAK @actualbird I HOPE U GET LOTS OF GIFTS AND FOOD AND SPEND THE DAY DOIN WHAT U LIKE!!!

[reapcrbunny]

❝ EVEN WITH ONE WITH FORMAL ROYAL GARLEAN education and an adventurer that has walked to the edge of creation . . can know absolutely NOTHING. | CREDIT \ DO NOT REBLOG unless you have a tag for dahlia.

[actualbird]

OOOUUAUAUAGGHH OHH MY GOD THEYRE A FAMBLY

a christmas gift for my love @actualbird~ (❁´◡`❁) a family picture with xiaxia 💖🎄

[r-is-typing]

changes | s.r

summary: in which spencer gets overwhelmed, taking it out on reader

requested?: yes! requested by @adrienneleclerc

pairing: post-prison!spencer reid x fem!reader

category: angst with a fluff ending

content warnings: spencer being mean, talks of reid in prison

Three months. Three months had gone by since Spencer Reid was released from Millburn Correctional Facility due to Cat Adams and Lindsey Vaughn framing him for the murder of Nadie Ramos.

Since his release, Spencer had went through a very obvious change. He wasn't as talkative to his teammates except for discussing work, he was more agressive and harsh compared to his normal softness and gentle nature. What had changed the most was his relationship with her. Since his release, Y/N had tried to be there as much as she could.

She would make his coffee every morning, placing it on the counter in a travel mug she had given him as a Christmas gift a few years prior. She would iron his button-ups and work pants, she would make him breakfast on the days where he didn't leave in the middle of the night.

Despite Y/N's efforts in making Spencer feel somewhat normal considering what the man had gone through, it wasn't enough. She could tell, but what she didn't know was how to fix it.

The build up was slow. It started with conveniently forgetting the travel mug on their kitchen counter to spending hours ‘working’ in his office, even though she knew he wasn’t. Then, spending the night elsewhere despite knowing, thanks to one Penelope Garcia, that they had been home from a case for who knows how long, to today.

She didn’t know how she didn’t see it coming. Spencer’s team had just gotten back from a case, where they had been in Georgia for a week. Penelope had sent her a message, telling the woman that the jet had landed and that Spencer would most likely be home soon, but that the case was rough.

Y/N decided in that moment to make him his favorite meal, coffee just the way he liked, and putting on one of the Stark Trek’s for them to watch.

She sat on their couch folding the warm laundry that she had just pulled out of the dryer when she heard the sound of keys jingling and the doorknob twisting.

Her eyes looked up to meet Spencer and she stood to her feet. “Hi, handsome.” She spoke lovingly but softly. She takes note of how his eyes don’t meet her, only a simple nod greets her as he enters the dimly light apartment.

“I put some clean pajamas and your towel on the bathroom counter in case you wanted to shower. I tidied up your office a bit, I made the bed, and I’m just folding laundry. I have dinner ready whenever you’re hun-“

Spencer let out a groan, interrupting her. “Can you just stop?” Y/N froze, her hands holding onto his gray Comme des Garçons sweater that had a red heart on the left side.

“Wha-“ “Just shut up for one second!”

She barely had time to breathe before Spencer started shouting again. “I mean, seriously. I just got back from work and you’re down my throat about- about nothing!” He throws his arms up in the air for effect.

“I-I don’t need this, you, smothering me all the time. I get home, I want to relax and read or maybe lie down, but no. You’re jumping down my throat, wanting attention, or, or whatever you’re wanting.”

Spencer’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. One of his hands went up, aggressively ripping his tie open and throwing it down on-top of the coffee table in the living room.

Y/N felt a burning sensation in her eyes. Tears, she thought. She sighs, wiping her tears, awaiting the next thing Spencer is going to say. What other harsh things are going to come her way.

“Do you realize that since I’ve been released from a place I shouldn’t have even been in, I haven’t had a moment of silence?”

Spencer stares down at her in a way he’s never looked at her before. Y/N could only assume, thanks to the tears clouding her eyes, that he hated her.

“I come back from literal prison and you haven’t given me a moment to just breathe!” He angrily runs his hands through his hair. “For once, I’m just asking you to be silent.”

“No, no. Actually, I’m telling you. Be quiet and leave me alone.” The words Y/N never thought she would hear slipped from his mouth.

Y/N stood to her feet, shuffling quickly to their shared bedroom. Spencer heard the slam of the door and the click of the lock, and he just sighed.

Hours went by and Y/N was in their bed, face buried in the comforter. Her tears had soaked everything from the pillowcase to her cheeks, and even through her shirt. Y/N eyed the bedside table.

2:05am

Y/N sighed, rolling over and staring at the wall, even though she couldn’t see a thing. She heard light shuffling which she could only assume was Spencer.

Down the hall, he stood from the couch, glancing into the kitchen and at the microwave to determine the time. Spencer rubbed the sleep from his eyes, even though he had probably slept give or take about fourty-five minutes.

Spencer cursed to himself, remembering why he was on the couch in the first place.

Remembering what he had said to her. His eidetic memory being a blessing and a curse in the moment because he remembered the look on her face when he yelled. He remembered how she cowered. The eyes that would crease with happiness because of her love for him staring at him in a mix of fear and sadness burned in his memory.

Spencer stood to his feet, shuffling quickly but quietly to the shut bedroom door. He reached up and grabbed the universal key for all the locks in the apartment from the door frame.

Twisting the key, he unlocked the door, opening it to a dark room. The only light was from the alarm clock in the bedside table. Spencer could see Y/N's silhouette laying in the dark under their comforter.

"Sweetheart?" He called out, no response.

He walked through the door, closing it quietly behind him. Spencer navigated to the bed in the dark, pulling down his side of the blanket and sliding in to bed.

"I know you're awake." He says, she hums sleepily.

Spencer sighs, looking to the side where she was, his eyes practically staring holes into her back. "I'm sorry, baby. I shouldn't have said those things." Y/N hums in a sleepy agreement.

"Everything has changed since I came back," he started. "but that's not on you. I shouldn't have taken it out on you. You were being perfect and trying to help me adjust to life back home, and I took you for granted."

Y/N rolls over, facing him with half-lidded eyes. "You really hurt my feelings, Spencer." She spoke softly, afraid that if she was any louder, they'd both be scared. Spencer goes to cradle her head, but waits until she signals an 'okay'. With his large hands on either side of her face, he looks at her.

"I know, baby, and I'm so so sorry." Spencer kisses the crown of her head. "I'll spend a lifetime making it up to you." Y/N hums, curling into his side. She opens her eyes barely to look at him.

"You shouldn't have to go through this alone, okay? You're right, things have changed, but that doesn't mean you have to be alone, Spence. You're not alone anymore. I'm your family and I'm always going to be here for you."

Spencer stares at her with a lovesick smile. "I'm so lucky." He mumbled, kissing her head again. The two get into their normal positions in bed before falling asleep. Spencer was lucky to have her, as she was lucky to have Spencer.

He knew that with her, things would be okay.

r is typing...

thank you so much for the request, and i hope it's what you wanted! i'm working on other requests as well, but feel free to send in more as my requests are open!

i'm also trying new formatting for my posts (new dividers, text coloring, etc) so let me know your thoughts!

as usual, here are the important links!

masterlist & prompt list

request & guidelines

r is signing off...

[shadowsndaisies]

dogfighting 101: 05 - sugar and spice

wc: 1.6k

synopsis: hangman leaves everyone hanging... right?

main masterlist

athena-verse master post

a/n: absolutely loving all of your comments!! heres some hangman and then centric stuff which I KNOW people are waiting to see more of. the next update will be the final for dogfighting 101 but will feature an interaction between rooster and athena that probably (very honestly) wont answer your questions (yet)

“Howdy Miss ‘Thena,” is Hangman’s opening as you both enter the range.

“Hangman,” your greeting’s lacking a little luster.

Despite your early success, you’d only managed tone once and this was rotation four for you, and that’s not even taking into account the variations in which you weren’t flying and that no one else had managed to take your dad down yet.

Your arms hurt, your shoulders hurt, your back hurt, and you wanted to shower so incredibly bad. More than all of that though, you were emotionally exhausted. Flying with Bradley had been the gift that kept giving because even though you’d already gone through another rotation, you kept thinking about the blow out, about the before, about Bradley. As you stood on the tarmac again, you took in the little indents in your palms from the gravel being pushed into them during your push-ups, rubbing over one red mark and shaking your head. Safe to say, you could not wait to finish out the final few rotations, and then go home.

“What’s the matter, Honey?” the tease comes over the comms and even though you know he wants an answer all you can do is scoff.

“Getting tired of push-ups is all,” you say simply.

“I was hoping so,” Jake decides and your brow furrows. You don’t need to see him to know he was planning something.

“What are you planning?” you ask seriously, fully aware that your dad and the rest of the detachment was listening in.

“I was wondering, are you still made of sugar and spice and everything nice?” it sounds condescending, and you’re sure Phoenix and Halo are scoffing at the question, but you know better.

Sugar and Spice was a code, a reference to something you’d only ever talked through with Jake during some downtime on the carrier. Unlike Rock and Roll which you’d actually trained for with Harvard and Yale during Top Gun, Sugar and Spice was completely theoretical.

“You’re joking,” you deadpan, turning to glare at him through the canopy.

“You said you were tired of push-ups. I think it could work, especially since two highly decorated and competent aviators came up with it. Unless, of course, you’d rather continue the heavy set arm day you’ve got going on?” he says nonchalantly.

“Why does it feel like you called me a coward while also complementing me?” you scoff.

“Because you know me,” is all he offers.

“That’s a lot of chatter for two aviators who don’t have the bandit in their sights,” Maverick’s voice finally cuts through, interrupting your back and forth with Jake.

“Hangman, you got eyes?” you ask staring around and out the canopy after confirming your dad wasn’t on the radar.

“No, my guess is he’s coming from below the hard deck again,” the other aviator offers and you do a quick roll, inverting like you had on the first run.

“No contact,” you huff, rolling back.

And then all of a sudden you hear a boom and Mav comes zipping down in front of you. Breaking the sound barrier as he drops from where he’d been miles above you and Jake moving faster than you’d anticipated.

“Holy shit!” you shout.

“Oh fuck!” Jake’s curse echoes with yours.

“Fight’s on, Aviators, let’s see how your arms feel after, kid,” your dad teases as he circles around.

“Break left!” Hangman’s shout echoes.

And you do.

You break left and loop around, looking for Jake who’d gone int he opposite direction. He hadn’t ditched you, yet. Not like he had with Phoenix and Bob earlier. You know it’s not entirely fair a line of thought though, he was different with you, he’d yet to break a promise or leave you out to dry, not like he so flippantly seemed to be with everyone else. You hesitate a second longer before deciding, no, I do not want to do more push ups, and yes, I do trust Jake.

“Sugar and Spice,” you finally shout.

“Wait, really?” the surprise is evident, as if despite his cocky attitude he couldn’t believe you were agreeing.

“Yes!” you confirm, rolling your eyes. “Now move your ass, Hangman!”

“My fine ass, you mean,” he shouts back and you can hear the smirk as he loops back to meet you so you could assume the correct positions.

It’s tricky, you decide.

You always knew it would be, but you never thought you’d actually try it out. In theory, Sugar and Spice was supposed to create a gap that was a trap for the bandit. Where Rock and Roll was a distraction and attack, with each aviator having a specific goal, Sugar and Spice held more risk. Here both pilots act as the distraction, while attempting to get tone at the same time. When you’d initially talked it out with Jake there were three possible formations. Option A was the Side by Side, where you fly parallel. Option B was the Stack, where one pilot flies directly above the other. And Option C, which you had succinctly named, the collision course; in which one approaches from the tail of the bandit, and the other nose.

It seemed Jake had decided to run the collision course. It took a few maneuvers, some creative flying in order to lure Maverick into the right space at the right time, but then you were approaching form his nose, while Jake came in from the tail.

“What the fuck?” was your dads response when he realized that he had to make a choice, continue to attempt tone on you, move before Jake got tone on him, or move before you got close enough to get tone on him.

He feigned a left, which you followed, but then he made a sharp turn right.

What Mav didn’t anticipate was the height change. Jake had moved up, just enough to angle himself perfectly, and to ensure that if your dad didn’t move from the game of chicken you were playing with him, you wouldn’t just crash into your own teammate.

When Maverick flipped a hard right, probably hoping to get tone on you, Jake got tone first, having seen the move coming, and prepared accordingly.

It was silent for a moment, as the tone rang out.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Maverick’s voice crackles over the comms as if he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

When you land Hangman’s already on the ground by your ladder, having rushed out of his jet after landing first.

You’re not even all the way down when his arms wrap around you and he pulls you down, “Holy shit, ‘Thena, that was fucking incredible!” he shouts, squeezing you for just a moment.

This is Jake, you think fondly. You liked Jake, a lot. You liked him a hell of a lot more than Hangman. Unfortunately, you knew that not everyone got to meet Jake, and that, you decided was a god damned shame.

“I mean, I always knew you were smart, ‘Thee but this idea really was something else entirely! And getting to test it out, I’m fucking ecstatic the height change worked….” he was rambling, and there was this twinkle in his eyes that made the green seem alive.

You hadn’t seen him ramble since before the announcement of the detachment, honestly not for a while if you’re honest. Maybe the last time you’d both had feet on solid ground instead of an Air Craft Carrier in the middle of the Pacific. He seemed younger, the southern drawl more evident as he talked too fast to fully enunciate each word.

“Seresin! Mitchell!” the shout from your dad forces Jake to stop, and you notice as his brain finally catches up, how he steps back from you and straightens out, how the excited gleam in his eye dies out a bit, and you frown at Jake, because you watch as he tucks the more authentic parts of himself away.

“Yes, Sir?” you ask, turning to your father who was approaching.

“Hell of a move, where’d you learn that?” he asks, looking between the two of you.

“Lieutenant Mitchell designed it, Sir. After a cat and mouse training exercise on the carrier between our squads,” and if your dad was shocked before, hearing Hangman of all people pay another pilot credit was the blackout on top of the bingo.

“It was a team effort, Sir,” you argue. “Then and now, I honestly wouldn’t have been able to do it with anyone else,” you admit, and something in both your father’s gaze, and Jake’s softens.

“Keep thinking outside the box. It’s a good skill, and you’ll need it,” your father praises you, before turning to head to Hondo for his push ups, giving the next group a bit of a break.

“Hey Maverick!” you shout after him, “Always think the 360!”

A random sentence that no one else would understand, but he would, and based off of the near prideful smile he shoots you before turning back around, you know he understood.

While your dad did his push ups and the next pairing came down, you stopped in an empty hallway. “Hey, Jake?”

“Yeah?” he asks, pausing and then turning back once he realized you were no longer right beside him.

“I’m happy it worked too. Thanks for not leaving me hanging,” you say softly.

He looks down and then back at you, brows furrowed as if something wasn’t adding up for him, “Mitchell, you should know by now, I’d never leave you,” he says in response, green eyes swirling with emotion, too many to place, but his words feel like so much more than just talking as your wingman.

...

everything: @butterfly-skinnylegend

athena’s tags: @omgbrianab @smoothdogsgirl @bazellawriz @sbrewer21 @inky-sun @djs8891 @rory-cakes @geeksareunique @je6291 @kee-0-kee @fanreader75 @whoismurphyslaw @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @thespillingvoid

if your tag is striked it means i was unable to tag you.

[dreagine]

Hi gang!!!

I plan on taking comms sometime before the summer ends!!

Right now I would like a bit more money 4 gifts n stuff so I’m taking doodle comms for $5!! :Dc

They’ll be like these, but I’ll color them!!:

Can be full body, half, headshot, whatevs!!

N that’s it really…if you’re interested you can dm me!!! >_<

[fluentmoviequoter]

Black Mercy

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!JL!reader (Justice League Unlimited!Bruce)

Summary: When you and Bruce find Superman in the Fortress of Solitude, you encounter the Black Mercy. Bruce faces his heart's greatest desire, and you encourage him to find happiness.

Warnings: spoilers/rewrite for Justice League Unlimited 1x2 "For the Man Who Has Everything", fluff, canon-level violence and action

Word Count: 2.3k+ words

A/N: I'll say it again... this show is elite. I'll never shut up about the characterizations of Batman, Superman, and the Flash! But, also, his bat ears.

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | DC Masterlist | Request Info

“J’onn, when did Superman check in last?” you inquire.

J’onn clicks the trackpad before him. The Watchtower has the most advanced technology of any place you’ve ever seen, yet J’onn has to navigate to the most recent communication reports to learn when he last heard Clark’s voice.

“Several hours,” J’onn answers with a frown. “He traveled to his Fortress of Solitude to investigate a disturbance but hasn’t reported since he arrived.”

“I’ll try to contact him,” you tell J’onn.

Bruce thought of everything when he designed and funded the Watchtower, and you navigate to your favorite private area. You occasionally wonder if he created such spots for people like you, the unpowered or easily overwhelmed. The Watchtower is big enough that you could go an entire day without seeing another member of the League; now, you crave that privacy to check on your friend.

“Superman, come in,” you say into your small radio. “Hello? … Clark?”

The only response you get is a distant static. You bounce the radio between your hands and frown. Clark can handle himself, of course, but he’s also good about staying in touch. The hidden door beside you creaks open slowly before Bruce steps inside.

“I thought you may be here,” he murmurs. When he turns to face you, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Clark isn’t checking in. J’onn hasn’t heard from him in hours, and I can’t reach him on comms,” you answer.

“Where is he?”

“Fortress of Solitude.”

“Then let’s go.”

You smile and take Bruce’s hand as he helps you to stand. He leads you through the empty hallways of the Watchtower, and you hope that when you get to Superman's hideout, it's just radio interference and nothing more. He steps onto the launch bay and presses a button on his utility belt to open the canopy of the batplane.

“Can I fly?” you ask.

“No,” Bruce answers.

He flies in relative silence, and it isn’t until he steers the plane into the freezing water surrounding the Fortress of Solitude that you decide to speak.

“That was a nice turn,” you compliment. “You usually scare me when you fly.”

“Sorry,” Bruce replies shortly.

He levels the plane onto an ice bank and opens the canopy. When he sees a small box in your hand, he furrows his brows under the cowl. You lead the way through the icy cave and look around for any sign of Clark.

“Is that for his birthday?” Bruce asks.

“What’d you get him?” you reply.

“He’s not the easiest person in the world to buy presents for.” Bruce lifts an envelope from his belt as he speaks.

“Please tell me that’s not a gift card.”

“It’s not… It's cash.”

You nod, and follow Bruce up the stairs into the heart of Superman’s fortress.

“What do you get for the man who has everything?” Bruce adds before freezing.

You drop the gift box when you see Clark. Bruce’s arm stretches past you protectively as you look from a distance. Clark stands motionless with a large plant attached to his chest and wrapped around his shoulders and back.

“What is that?” you ask Bruce.

He walks down the steps to get a closer look, and you follow closely behind him.

“Looks like some kind of plant,” Bruce says. “Seems to be growing through his costume and into his body.”

You step to Bruce’s side and look at Clark’s chest. He’s breathing, barely, but that’s enough of a promise that he can be saved from whatever this is. Clearly, someone was in the fortress, and Clark probably interrupted them. You will know where to start if you learn what he was investigating.

“Look around,” Bruce requests. “I’ll see what I can find here.”

You leave his side as he shines a light in Clark’s eyes. Bruce is well-versed in Kryptonian anatomy, so you trust him to decide what’s best for Clark.

“Pupils aren’t responding in the slightest. He must be cut off from all sensation,” Bruce deduces.

“How do we save someone who doesn’t know we’re trying?” you inquire.

Bruce doesn’t answer you but murmurs, “Kent, where are you?”

“So, it was a gift. Teleported here from some alien culture, some grateful world. Or someone wanting you to think they were grateful,” Bruce says to Clark.

“How remarkable,” someone calls. Bruce stands quickly and sees Mongul as he finishes, “You animals really are almost intelligent, aren’t you? That’s exactly what happened.”

Mongul steps out of the shadows, and Bruce sees you unconscious in his hand. His jaw clenches, but he remains calm and focused. He can’t save you or Clark if he loses a fight with Mongul.

“Mongul,” Bruce greets.

“You recognize me. I’m flattered. I suppose Superman told you all about our previous encounter.”

“You mean how he humiliated you?” Bruce taunts.

“A… jaundiced account. What inferior specimens he surrounds himself with.” Mongul raises you cruelly and says, “I took her down before she even knew I was there, and I’ll take this planet just as easily.”

You gesture with your hand to show Bruce you’re about to move and then swing your legs up. When they meet Mongul’s jaw, he tips back, and you fall to the cold floor.

“Maybe she knew more than you thought,” you say. “We inferior specimens call it ‘playing possum.’”

You prepare to fight Mongul despite the unfairness of the fight. Before you can punch or be punched, however, Bruce jumps between you and Mongul.

“No,” he demands.

“Clearly the males on this world are the smart one,” Mongul muses. “He wants to know about the plant. The Black Mercy is a telepathic species. It reads the heart’s desires and feeds the individual a totally convincing simulation of it.”

“So, he’s dreaming?” Bruce clarifies.

“Oh, far deeper than any dream. I wonder where he thinks he is… Sitting on a throne ruling the universe, all you human garbage fawning at his feet? More honest, don’t you think than this pretense of being a selfless hero?”

“Bruce, we can’t take him,” you whisper as Mongul looks at Clark. “What are we supposed to do?”

“We can’t take him,” Bruce agrees. “But we can take a plant.”

“Need a distraction?”

“Be careful.”

You run toward Mongul and force him backward, away from Clark. He knocks you to the floor with ease, but where you lack size and power, you have mobility and agility. You maneuver away from him and run through an opening in the wall. As you hoped, he follows you.

Meanwhile, Bruce attempts to cut through the plant but fails.

“He’ll kill her, Clark,” Bruce tells Clark. “And then he’ll kill us all. Shake it off. Come back to us… Please.”

Bruce told you to be careful, but you’re doing anything you can to keep Mongul away from him. You fire a Kryptonian weapon at him, but you and Bruce face similar luck as nothing works to help you. You’re trapped in a losing fight, and Bruce can’t get Clark back. You see another line of weapons and run into an adjoining room. Mongul follows you, and he’s loud enough that Bruce can locate you without seeing you.

“She’s in the hall of weapons. That will buy her time, but not enough.” He grips Clark’s shoulders and adds, “She’s fighting for her life, Clark. You’ve got to fight too, Clark.”

The weapon goes cold, and you drop it before you realize how close you are to Mongul. Mogul wraps a hand around your shoulders and squeezes your neck before pushing you onto the floor.

“First, I’ll kill you and the Bat and then I’ll take this planet,” he says.

“You won’t win,” you force out.

“Of course I will.”

Mongul lifts you from the ground before dropping you again, and you can only hope that Bruce is close to saving Clark. Once he’s back, you can be sure Mongul won’t win.

“Yes, that’s it,” Bruce says as he pulls the Black Mercy from Clark’s chest. “Fight it. Fight it.”

Bruce finally succeeds and removes the plant from Clark, but his victory is short-lived before it attaches to him instead.

“Batman!” you yell as Mongul throws you across the hall of weapons.

You struggle to push yourself to your feet, but a blue and red blur knocks Mongul off his feet before you can. While Clark pays Mongul back for everything he lost, you stumble through a hole in the wall to find Bruce. It’s unimaginable - to lose your heart’s desire, but when you see Bruce smiling with the Black Mercy on his chest, you find the strength to keep moving.

“Bruce,” you call, but it’s no more than a whimper.

You kneel before him and grip the sides of the plant. Pulling is pointless, but you need him back. Clark can undoubtedly handle Mongul alone, but Bruce needs your help now.

“Bruce, fight for me. Come back to me,” you plead.

“Bruce, I think it’s your turn.”

Bruce shakes his head and continues kissing you. The kids are making noise in the formal living room, but he ignores it. Not even the unmistakable sound of something breaking can draw Bruce away from you.

“Brucie,” you try again.

Talking against his lips doesn't work because his kisses are addictive. You finally raise your hands and push yourself away from Bruce. He smiles, and you know your happiness is evident on your face, too.

“Your kids are destroying the manor,” you remind him. 

“We can fix it. And they’re our kids.”

“I’m happy,” you tell him.

“I am too.”

Bruce brushes your hair back and watches your smile fall.

“But it’s not real,” you whisper.

“It can be,” Bruce promises.

He leans toward you, and you kiss his forehead before answering, “Then wake up and make it real.”

Bruce wakes and is harshly reminded of where he is as he falls backward. The Black Mercy is wrapping around your outstretched arms, and you grunt with effort as you force it away from your chest. Clark is still fighting Mongul, and each reference to his heart’s desire revives his fight and energy.

“Bruce,” you call.

Bruce pushes your arms away from your face, and you roll toward a hole in the floor. Mongul is directly beneath you, and the Black Mercy falls away from you before landing on him. Clark sits back in relief as Mongul disappears into his heart’s desire.

“Are you okay?” Bruce asks.

You assure him that it's nothing more than bumps and bruises, and Bruce pulls a grappling hook from his belt. You wrap your arms around Bruce and cling to him as he lowers to Clark’s side.

“This was your birthday present,” you tell Clark as you pass him the battered box. “Probably broken now, but…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Clark says with a smile. He looks up at the Kryptonian statues above you and promises, “I won’t forget you.”

 “I wonder what he’s seeing,” you say, pointing toward Mongul. “Something better than he deserves, I’m sure.”

“You’re the only one who didn’t get a glimpse at your heart’s desire,” Clark points out. “Maybe I should get you a gift on the way back.”

You smile and pat his shoulder. “I’m sorry for whatever it is you lost. But I’m glad you get to spend your birthday here.”

“I appreciate it. And who knows, maybe I’ll get my desire someday.”

“I hope so.”

“Happy birthday,” Bruce says as he passes the envelope to Clark.

“Thanks, Bruce,” Clark replies. “What do you say we got back to the Watchtower and let the Fortress rest for a while?”

You and Bruce agree, but Bruce waits beside you as Clark walks toward the hidden entrance. He’ll meet you back in space, but now you’re more interested in Bruce’s attention on you.

“I’m sorry,” you offer.

“I thought it would be about my parents. When Mongul explained it, I just assumed,” Bruce says.

“I think mine would have been a normal life. No need for superheroes or watchtowers… just domesticity and happiness with someone who I love and who loves me.”

“You were there,” Bruce says quickly.

“Oh,” you say, unsure of any other, more appropriate response. "Was it… you don’t have to tell me.”

“It felt so real, even though I knew it wasn’t. Is it wrong that I wanted it to be?”

“Of course not.”

“Clark can’t get what he wanted, not if he was back on Krypton, but I could get mine with a single question. What makes me more worthy; after everything I’ve done?”

“Bruce,” you say, drawing his attention when you lay a hand on his chest. “It’s not about that. If your desire is more achievable in this life, that has nothing to do with what you deserve. And you’re not a bad person, so stop punishing yourself.”

“You told me I could make it real,” he murmurs.

“Then ask the question. You can leave it here with that plant, or you can do something for you this one time.”

“We were in the manor,” Bruce begins. “And there were kids playing in the other room, and you looked so happy. I was happy again, and I haven’t been happy in that house since I was eight years old.”

“Things can change,” you whisper.

“Would you- could we try?” Bruce asks.

“The kids in the manor thing or the you and me thing?” you tease.

You lay your hands on Bruce’s shoulders and lean close to him. His hands hover above your waist before settling against the top of your hips.

“Both?” he suggests.

“Alfred will be so happy to have company again,” you say before closing the distance and kissing Bruce.

His dreams are coming true, and yours are too. The fight never ends, but part of you is glad that the Black Mercy attached to Bruce’s chest and the version of you in his heart convinced him to take the next step.

“Alright, let’s go, Brucie,” you say as you pull back. “Clark’s going to get suspicious.”

“Brucie?” Bruce repeats. “You’ve never called me that before.”

“New things, remember? Now, come on, we have a world to protect before you take me on a proper date.”

Bruce follows you as you walk back toward the batplane and shakes his head as he murmurs, “Does this not count?”

[actualbird]

MY OLDER SISTER DREW ME A LUKEY FOR MY BDAY UUEUEEEEHHHHHH HES SO CUTE

[alwaysshallow]

Hiya! I was wondering if you could do a soap fluff where he never sees the reader sleep, he’s seen her up at such ungodly hours yet he doesn’t confront her because she scares him a bit, she’s quiet and only talks when spoken too, not too much like Simon though, she isn’t mean, just a little arrogant and snarky.

Soap has a little crush on her but he pushes it away most of the time, questioning himself for it but the girl never normally shows affection only little nods toward price, it’s obvious she looks up to him.

Anyway on one mission they get in the plane from Mexico and she sits down, soap sits next to her as he talks to Gaz, he feels a weight on his shoulder and she’s fast asleep, he doesn’t think much of it until she wraps her arms around his bicep, nuzzling her self into him and Gaz notices his stuttering mess and nervousness.

ignore me if you don’t wanna write soap!

John "Soap" MacTavish x f!reader

He tries to get to know you more. (1,9k)

AO3 version

A/N: I could never say no to my beloved Johnny; AND it's first request, very thankful!! I had to turn it into oneshot, I just had to. I hope you will enjoy <3

It's probably the way you're unavailable for him. Out of reach, he can say, but he's working on getting to it, slowly.

It's probably the way you practically don't smile, the way you're quiet, the way you're devoted to your work, just like he is.

Johnny is the type of person to be friends with everyone in Task Force 141; might be his charming nature, might be his talkativeness, but all in all, he's just everyone's friend. He likes late night talks, going to bar with squad, pretty much everything suits him and his nature.

You're kind of different. Quiet, methodical, just like Simon, but also different – you seem like you're more open than him. It's the way you gave him a comment after his missed shot when you were on comms, asking if he really was one of the best shooters or he just pretended to.

Somehow, that didn't offend him at all. Normally, it would even cause a conversation and a bit of banter, but all he gave you was a laugh and a question if you're feeling cheeky, if you need some proof that he's the best. He almost heard your eyes rolling at that moment. It was another thing that interested him in you – for fuck's sake, he loved people talking back to him. If they were ladies, maybe even more. He knew you like working with him, though, despite your irritation sometimes. Most of the time, he irritated you to the core with asking questions, on purpose, just to get a rise out of you, just to get you to speak since you did it rarely. Soap was pretty convinced that you believed in speech is silver and silence is golden type of shit, but he liked silver better anyway.

It was Christmas when he got you a little gift – he did the same for everyone to not raise suspicion, but every pin was personalized. Skull for Ghost, helicopter for Gaz (obviously, he had to continue the joke), cigars for Price and for you... a cat.

No one knew that you had a cat – it was more of observation, when you had your civilian clothes, your shirt had some of white fur on it, Soap realized. He almost immediately though of asking you what was the race, if it was he or she, but he decided to drop it, so he could surprise you.

And it was worth it.

He knew you liked it, when you sent him a look, full of questions that he could answer if you'd only ask them. He could explain that he pays attention to detail, despite the public knowledge, their jokes about it.

Soap was so calm back then. Everyone liked their pins, everyone had them, so no one would question gift for you.

It was enough he was questioning himself all the time.

Like, how can he know so little about you, but yet, feel so giddy whenever you're around?

How can he not turn his head in your direction when you're walking next to him, so gracefully, focused on something, a gun strong in your hand, prepared for every occasion that would happen. You would die for your people, that much was clear, and so would he.

Johnny is almost ashamed at his feelings and hitting on you – you can't take it seriously, considering that he hits on everyone in your mind, but this type of hitting is different. You obviously don't know that, but he thinks twice before he says something to you.

He thinks twice before giving you a cheesy pick-up line that:

a) you usually ignore,

b) you roll your eyes at,

c) from time to time, you ask if he has something better, and he just grins like a kid that got candy, telling you another one.

What he doesn't know though? He doesn't know that you smile every time in your dorm at it, when you remember what he has said to you, it's a sweet secret that you're willing to keep.

As long as you can.

You're the first one who takes seat in the plane that is supposed to go back to your main base; you're grateful that you're going home. You like Mexico, obviously, as well as the adrenaline it brought, but you were tired as hell, fighting with yourself to not fall asleep after draining mission.

At least, you planned not to fall asleep until everyone will be here, and the plane will be in the air.

First ones to come after you, are Ghost and Price. They are talking about some machines that they "have" to buy. You're not interested, so you mainly observe your surroundings, or you just play with your hands to make the time go faster.

A little scolding goes to Soap and Gaz for being late; it's not serious obviously, but it's something that Price likes to tell them, praying that someday they wouldn't be late.

"Feelin' sleepy, ace?"

"Always, Gaz. Pretty tired" you reply, your eyes darting between him and Soap.

"We played those fuckers like kids. I do not believe that they gave up so easily" Gaz rolls his eyes with amusement, as he takes a seat nearby.

"Yeah, we got 'em. Motherfuckers thought they had a chance" Soap laughs, shaking his head. It's the first time he's so happy with the mission, despite being tired and a little beaten up; he takes the seat next to you, nodding in respectful manner. A greeting, you could say.

His head turns back to Kyle.

"Just like you in poker." Garrick responds, grinning. Soap can't help but roll his eyes at this statement, even if it's true – yeah, maybe poker wasn't really his best, but he was the best in other things.

Uno, for example. Or Monopoly, even if he got easily irritated by Simon taking his favorite places just to rile him up and pay the taxes or beg for buying it from him in exchange for something. Despite all that, he's pretty good at it. Poker is a different story, everyone cheats here, mostly Gaz and Price.

That's what Johnny thinks. Captain and his "son" cheating, ain't that surprising?

"Won't comment on that, Gaz" he manages to mumble; there's something else in his mind too, but he forgets it the moment your head rests on his shoulder.

His gaze goes to you immediately and with the rest of his willpower, he tries not to smile. It's pretty sure he lost count how many times in just one minute he told himself to not daydream over this little gesture. After all, it happened only because you are tired, right? It happens to everyone.

Soap's mind is filled of memory when he fell asleep on Price; the great surprise he had after that, tells him to not overthink. It's just probably because you feel safe around him. Your body is weak after such an intense mission, no doubt that you want just somewhere to lay your head on.

"Because you have nothin' in your defence, man." his friend laughs, pointing at him. "I'd play even now, if you want to. I think I have cards somewhere. Price, you want to play?" he raises his voice.

"Gaz, for fuck's sake, she's sleeping" Soap hisses, looking at Gaz with furrowed eyebrows.

"Jeez, calm down, man. She's sleeping like a damn rock here." he rolls his eyes and nudges Johnny. "What are you, her protector?

Scot sighs. "She did a pretty good job today. 'st want her to get a proper rest before we will hit our base, you know? It's..."

He trails off just in the moment you nuzzle into him – consciously or not. More to his bicep, considering that your arms wrap around it tightly, and your head claims it proudly as a pillow, but it's enough.

It's enough for Soap to lost the track of his thoughts, to lose his composure. You never did things like that, hell, you never even hugged, and there you are. Skin to skin, so close, sleeping, vulnerable for everything around. It's the way he feels sudden urge to protect you, even if nothing dangerous is around, just men who would give everything to protect their team.

He knows you can protect yourself on your own, you're perfectly capable of doing that. He saw it multiple times, how easily you could take down a guy twice your size, and he adored that. More than he would ever admit, considering that he keeps his feelings to himself. It's easier this way, less complicated, Soap needs to think how he will approach you.

Not an easy job, no. Especially that you're not the one to show affection, he has to have a better plan than pick-up lines. Or maybe the time will help?

Something shifts in the air, and he knows it. He's bad at hiding emotions like this, unexpected ones, so when his gaze drifts back to Gaz, already observing him with curiosity, he gulps.

"What you wanted to say? About..." he points with his chin at you, wrapped around his arm.

"What? Nothing." he replied immediately, biting his cheek from inside.

"No, you certainly wanted to–"

"–mm, can you be a little bit quieter, Gaz? Just a little bit." you murmur, sleepy; you don't even know what they are talking about, you're more than focused on sleeping and warmness that Soap gives you.

"Yeah, sorry, ace. Got some really good pillow over here, eh?" Garrick smiles widely, looking at Johnny, whose gaze is at you.

"Mhm."

Oh, if you'd only know. You don't even realize how this little gesture, how your blurred mhm affects him. Your close proximity, soft skin of your cheek on his bicep, it all makes him feel like crazy one because he thinks if it's something normal for you, or you just like-like him. He has a million questions.

Could it be it?

"Soap?" he hears Gaz.

Soap is not sure if he spoke something before calling for him. "Y-yeah?" For the first time, he fucking stutters, which is embarrasing enough when Kyle looks at him.

"You good, man? You seem... tensed up."

"What? No." he laughs quietly, nervous that his friend might be onto something. He wasn't dumb, but Johnny would hate for him to know. It's not like he will tell you, not at all, but he could make comments, and that... nah, not an option.

Gaz would try to and be a wingman, but Johnny needed to charm you on his own, without any help; he needed time to figure things out.

"Sure of that?"

"Gaz, really. Leave him be and shut up." you spoke up again; boys aren't sure if it's mumbling from your sleep or something, but what they know is that you mean it, so Kyle just rolls his eyes.

Yet, he gives Soap the biggest grin once again, and he knows that he will be insufferable, when he gets up from his seat and he takes the one near Price and Ghost.

MacTavish is more focused on you, though. He smiles under his nose, and with a little bit of hesitation, he rests his head against yours.

"Is it okay?" he whispers, trying to get an answer from you. It's risky, he doesn't even know if you're awake, but he would hate to overstep a boundary with you.

You don't give him verbal answer; instead, you just nuzzle into his arm more, and it's all he needs.

He decides that he will ask you out sometime – for something simple, maybe coffee, maybe he will find an excuse to go with you to the movies.

He will, he just needs to find a right moment, but he knows it's gonna happen.

[reapcrbunny]

❝ GETTING INTO TROUBLE when we're trying to restablize the former empire . . thanks you two, | CREDIT \ DO NOT REBLOG unless you have a tag for dahlia. ( and much thanks to @fckurselfie / @sunlessea for this gift for hallows exchange <3 )

[tadpoletiddles]

𝑷𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒏

PART 1

Brozone x Reader (fem)

WARNING: NSFW

~takes place after the Brozone reunion

~neither Bruce nor Branch are with Brandy/Poppy btw

(sorry if there are any typos)

°:. *₊ ° . *₊ . ° .•*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *

Brozone had always had some 'crazy' fans during their early days. It was normal for fans to send gifts like cards and various memorabilia; however, every once in a while, the boys would get odd fan mail.

This one time, when the boys were in their younger Brozone days, Floyd received a rather raunchy love letter from a fan, which entailed all the dirty things they wanted to do with Floyd. After the boys had split up, you had tried to keep in touch with each of them. Gosh, were you so happy to see them reunited again, not just as brothers, but as Brozone.  The band's reunion sparked an uproar among their fans, who were so excited to see them perform again.  Of course, some of the crazy fans also came back with much more creative 'gifts.' You attended every show because you were so close to the boys and remained friends after so many years. They even allowed you to act like a manager most of the time, even giving you one of those little headsets with the microphones. During their shows, you would be behind the scenes, ensuring everything went smoothly.  Tonight was no different than any other night. As the boys finished their last song, you heard one of the stagehands come through your headset, "That's a wrap! shows over, security, make sure everyone makes it out safely, and- woah, what?" You peeked from behind the stage curtains, seeing what the issue may be. A squealing fan was Among the crowd; from where you stood, you could see them pushing their way toward the front of the stage. "Security!" came through your headset once more. Your eyebrows furrowed as you saw the troll throw something, a blur of color flying towards the boys. A gasp escaped you as the projectile made contact with Brozone. The boys coughed and sputtered as a milky, powdery cloud misted over them. Just as you were about to step out from the curtain, you realized what had been thrown at them and sighed in relief, "the fan threw flowers," you spoke through your comm. 

Security was able to wrangle up the crowd and escort everyone out of the concert area while a guard escorted Brozone back to their private pod where they were staying for the night. Everything had been cleaned up rather quickly, and you left the little that was left to the stagehands so you could go and check on your friends. You waved to the crew, and you began to head to the pod. You hadn't seen this pod yet, but it didn't look much different on the outside from the other ones that were provided for Brozone by the venues. All was quiet outside, aside from the chirping of a few crickets and the sway of the breeze. However, you could pick out a slight groan or two from inside the pod as you neared the door.

You raised your hand up and knocked twice on the door of their pod, "Guys, it's me, Y/N, let me in." It took a moment before someone shuffled towards the door to open it. The door opened slowly, and Bruce peered out at you, "Y-Y/N." "Bruce," you responded to him, a hint of worry in your voice at his unusual tone of voice. His face was freckled with what you assumed to be remnants of the pollen cloud from the flying bouquet earlier.  Something seemed off about him; he usually had a pleasant aura to him when he saw you, but right now, he seemed stressed like he was hiding something. "Are you guys okay?" you put a hand on the door to open it the rest of the way and push past him. You could have sworn you heard him let out a gasp as you slid past him; what the hell was going on? You looked around the pod to the rest of the boys. Branch and Floyd were not in the living room area and must have been in one of the other rooms while Clay and John Dory were on the couch. Clay was lying on his stomach on one end of the couch, and John Dory, on the other, slumped over with a hand in his hair. Bruce was shutting the door as you turned back around to him. "What's up with you guys?" Before Bruce could answer, JD tilted his head up to look at you. He held a strained expression as he spoke, "It's the pollen." You think back to the cloud of it that had sprayed over the boys as JD muttered something, then sighed as he looked at your confused state. "The flowers, they um, their pollen is..." he stumbled over his words, and you were wondering where his sudden nervousness came from, "an aphrodisiac." Your mouth opens to ask another question, but he answers it for you, "you learn a lot from hiking the Neverglade trail." It wasn't until now that you realized Clay had been staring you down this entire time, his eyes lacking typical shine and instead glossed over. Your eyes shifted to look back to John Dory, who you realized shared the same countenance, then finally to Bruce, whose eyebrows were furrowed when his eyes met your own. They were eyeing you like a predator does its prey, ready to devour it. Bruce stepped towards you, "you should leave," he said, swallowing harshly. "How long does this last, John Dorry?" you redirected your attention back to the eldest brother, who just frowned at you, "Days, unless..." He was being so cryptic and it was starting to frustrate you, all you wanted to do was help, "unless what John, spit it out." Bruce grabbed your arm, "Y/N," his grip didn't hurt, but it was firm. You put two and two together, flushing as soon as you did. You were a big girl, though, and were capable of making your own decisions. Besides, it wasn't like you'd never thought about them in that way before, even if sometimes it felt wrong. "Is that what you want, for me to leave?" you said, not asking either in particular, but rather both of them. "Y/N," Bruce repeated your name again, his eyes no longer pleading with you but warning you of what could be to come. "That is your choice, sweetheart," John said, which made you quiver a bit at this new nickname; looking at Bruce one last time, you locked the door.

"You know what you're getting yourself into?" Bruce let go of your hand, taking another step towards you. He walked you backward to the counter, where he placed a hand on either side of you, boxing you in. A small whimper left your lips at his sudden closeness. John Dory chuckled, "I'm not sure if she does," he got up off the couch and sauntered towards the two of you, "How about we show her." Your eyes flickered between JD and Bruce. "I think we'll save the best for last for you," JD hummed, and you nodded your head in response, making him smirk. Clay now sat up from his place on the couch, and JD looked over his shoulder to him, "Clay, you wanna get our girl here started?" Your core quivered at his words, and you took notice of the growing heat in your underwear. Bruce hooked a finger under the waistband of your pants, "Let's get rid of these, shall we," and gave them a tug down, helping you step out of them; off next came your shirt. You shivered from the new coolness that came from your lacking clothing. "Alright, sweetheart," JD huffed, placing his hands under your thighs to lift you up, "Comere, you wanna help, then you've got a lot of work to do." You were hoisted up into John's arms, which pushed your body forward, pressing your nose against his, making John smile. He brought you over to Clay, who had already stripped his wool romper off to expose what the pollen had done to his member, which was bobbing up and down as it throbbed. Clay was laid back against the couch cushions, legs spread, awaiting you. Before John could set you down, he placed a kiss on your cheek, and you responded with a kiss yourself, grabbing the collar of his jacket and pulling him in. He wasn't expecting it but very quickly dove into the kiss and was soon holding you up while the two of you sloppily made out. Bruce came from where he was leaning on the counter to sit on the couch, not far from Clay, watching the scene unfold, "I guess we aren't the only ones pent up, hm?"

Clay took the opportunity of having you held up to pull aside your underwear; he then looked over to his brother beside him, "Oh Bruce, look at this; she's soaking fucking wet." Bruce raised an eyebrow and leaned over to see your pussy practically drooling. Bruce clicked his tongue, "Our poor girl," you moaned into John's mouth at Bruce's words. John Dory's lips separated from yours and moved their way across your jaw and down your neck before he started to pull you off him to set you between Bruce and Clay. You were now at eye level with JD's tented shorts, your eyes widening at the sight. He took a hand and grunted as he adjusted himself. The cushion bowed as Clay slid over closer to you, his hands sliding around your waist. He shifted to pull your back flush against him, his cock coming to rest between your thighs. You let out a sound of surprise at his actions, looking up to John Dory, who leaned down to your face. His hand tilted up your chin, "I'll be back. Be a good girl, won't you?" he winked. Your cheeks flushed, not just because JD had been so forward but also because Clay had pulled your thighs farther apart, allowing his cock to slide against the lips of your pussy through your underwear. John Dory walked off to another room, glancing back at you again and smiling. 

A hand came up to the front of your bra, where it was hooked together, and unclasped it. Your breasts bounced out, revealing, "Nipple piercings didn't take you for the type," Bruce chuckled, his eyes raking over your body. He watched as Clay's hands ran up your sides, one going up to play with one of your breasts, the other going down under your panties. His fingers grazed your clit, making you jolt slightly. "Don't tease the poor girl, Clay," "Alright, alright," Clay giggled. In an instant, you were shoved down on your stomach, letting out a yelp. Clay yanked your hips up, grabbed your tail, which was flicking back and forth to keep it still, and pulled your panties down your thighs. "So pretty," Clay hummed, running a finger up and down your folds. You whined, "Clay, fuck me already," arching your back into his touch. "Ask nicely," he said in a more stern tone, holding your hips still. "Please," you begged him, "please fuck me so good." The grip on your hips adjusted slightly, "There you go~." Not a minute more was wasted as Clay lined himself up, the tip of his cock prodding your folds. He pulled your hips back into him as he slid in slowly, "Ngh, fuck, she's so tight, " Clay said to Bruce. There was a moment when he was fully in, and he stopped to let you adjust. However, it wasn't long until he began to thrust into you. You tried to hold in your moans, but it was becoming harder as Clay's thrusts sped up. "No need to be quiet, we wanna hear that beautiful voice," it was John Dory, who had returned from the other room. Following behind him were Floyd and Branch. Floyd watched in awe as you took Clay so nicely, smiling, while Branches' face was priceless, with his mouth agape practically to the floor. You turned your head from where it was buried into the couch cushion, seeing the three standing there through your half-lidded eyes. Your hands dug into the fabric of the couch, hanging on for dear life as Clay plunged deep inside. The only thing you could think about was his cock stretching your walls. You were the only thing the boys had their attention on, all eyes glued to you. Your moans grew louder as your stomach tightened.

"Aww, someone's getting close~," Floyd cooed as his tail wagged. Clay grunted as he thrust deep into you once more, "She's not the only one." A few more thrusts and your walls were clamping down on him, your thighs shaking. It wasn't until you were coming down from that high that you noticed Clay's thrusts getting faster. "Can I-" "Y-Yeah," you stuttered out. Clay almost came right then and there hearing your words, although it took a few more thrusts before he did. He yanked your hips to meet his last thrust as his thick, milky cum shot up into you. The walls of your pussy fluttered around him as the warm sensation oozed through it. "Fuck," was all he said as he pulled out, his cum already leaking out of you. 

You pushed yourself up and leaned back against the couch, your legs splayed out, showing your pussy, which still oozed out cum. Your eyes flickered to JD, who stared at you with a smug expression, "One of you wanna clean her up," he said suggestively. Floyd jumped up at the opportunity, eagerly shuffling forward from where he sat on the floor to sit in front of you. "May I?" Floy asked politely as his face nuzzled against your thigh. The way he looked up from between your legs made your heart flutter. Floyd was always so sweet, even now, cutely cuddling into you, nearly drooling over your pussy. Taking your hand, you ran it through his pink hair, lightly tugging on it, "Mhm." His tail flailed around wildly, and he nuzzled his way closer to your pussy. His lips peppered kisses along your inner thighs, giving a soft nip to the sensitive skin. Floyd's tongue darted across your slit, erupting a moan from you. As he continued to slowly lap at your pussy, you glanced around at the others. JD was palming his bulge through his pants, still holding a smug little smirk on his face, and Bruce was intently watching your hips buck up into his younger brother's mouth. Your eyes flickered to Branch last, who was trying his best to hide his obvious boner with his hands. "Branch-ah," Floyd's tongue swept over your swollen clit, and you peeked down at him for a second, seeing his giddy little smile and his tail still thrashing about. "Branch, let me help you," the troll glimpsed over at his eldest brother, who tilted his head, ushering him to go to you. Bruce got up from beside you to make room for Branch, tilting in to move your hair out of your face, his hand stopping to hold your cheek, "You're doing so good." He's a heartthrob alright. A whine left your lips as he pulled his hand away and went to sit beside Clay. 

Branch stumbled over to you, kicking off his pants along the way. You pat the spot on the couch where Bruce had been to your right. Branch kneeled beside you, the cushion sinking in under his weight. You gave him a reassuring smile, "You can use my mouth," he chocked up at how bold you were being. He eased closer, and you ran your tongue over the head of his cock, his hand instantly going to your hair. He gingerly pushed your head onto his cock, letting it slip past your lips. Pretty soon, both of his hands were clutching your hair desperately, dragging your head into every thrust as he fucked your face. Floyd had sped up his ministrations, hooking his arms under your legs to get better access to your pussy. His tongue delved into you, and your grip on his hair tightened. Floyd road you all the way to another climax, your legs closing around his head as he let out a blissful hum, kissing your pussy and laying his head on your lap; all the while, Branch continued to face-fuck you. It wasn't long until Branch buried his cock down your throat, and you were swallowing his cum as it spurted out in thick strings. His cock slid from your lips, and he plopped down on the cushions in a heap. Floyd went to get up, "Floyd, do you-" "No, no, helping you did me good," he referred to the new wet splotch on the front of his shorts.

Branch swaggered back to the other room where he previously was. Clay waggled his fingers at you, and Floyd blew you a kiss as they followed him. They seemed drained, "are they gonna be alright?" you asked as they disappeared around the corner. John Dory huffed as he got up from his chair and plopped down on your right, wrapping an arm around you, "yeah, the pollen leaves ya pretty spent." You merely hummed in response and rested your head against him. Bruce came over to you, a glace of water in hand, "Here, why don't you take a break for a minute," you took the water from him and sipped it slowly. "You're gonna need it," John Dory chuckled, ruffling your hair lightly. You handed off the water back to Bruce and he sat it down on the table beside the couch, then came to sit at your other side. Both Bruce and John had you snuggled between them as you took a breather. 

A quiet chuckle echoed from you, "The two of you have some damn good self-control for being under the effects of that pollen." However, your laughter faded when you realized they were both looking at you with the same lustful eyes as when you first entered the pod. "Oh, you have no idea."

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.. • .

hope you like this part :))))

[onlyonetifosi]

Behind the camera -> chapter 6

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author note1: i love them your honor

uthor note2: if you want to be in the taglist comment it or send me a message <3 and i hope you like it

@reveriesources

The week passed in a whirlwind of excitement and anticipation for Yn. Thoughts of the upcoming weekend with Joris filled her mind, and she couldn't help but steal glances at her phone, eagerly awaiting his message. The day finally arrived, and Yn found herself nervously preparing for their rendezvous.

Joris, equally anxious and excited, arrived at Yn's house with a small bouquet of flowers. The doorbell rang, and Yn opened the door to find Joris standing there, a shy smile on his face.

"Pour toi," Joris said, presenting the flowers to Yn. (For you)

Yn's eyes lit up, and she graciously accepted the gift. "C'est magnifique, Joris. Merci!" (It's beautiful, Joris. Thank you!)

As they embarked on their weekend adventure, Yn and Joris explored the beautiful streets of Monte Carlo, sharing laughter and getting to know each other better. The shyness that initially lingered between them began to fade, replaced by a comfortable companionship. Joris had suggested a simple yet charming picnic in a nearby park, and Yn, dressed in a casual yet stylish outfit, met him with a smile.

"Tu aimes la musique?" Joris asked, attempting to keep the conversation flowing. (Do you like music?)

"Oui, j'adore la musique," Yn responded, her eyes lighting up. (Yes, I love music)

They stumbled upon a street performer playing a melodic tune on his guitar. Yn and Joris found a quiet spot to sit and enjoy the music, their shoulders brushing against each other.

"Ça te plaît?" Joris asked, stealing a glance at Yn. (Do you like it?)

"Oui, c'est magnifique," Yn replied, her heart fluttering as she caught his gaze. (Yes, it's beautiful)

The picnic blanket was spread under the shade of a large oak tree, and as they enjoyed the homemade sandwiches and snacks, Yn couldn't help but feel a connection growing between them. The ease with which they talked, the shared laughter, and the occasional shy glances all contributed to an atmosphere that felt special.

The evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the city. Joris, feeling a surge of courage, turned to Yn.

Joris, looking both nervous and determined, took a deep breath. "Yn, euh… il y a quelque chose que je voulais te dire." (Yn, um… there's something I wanted to tell you.)

Yn turned towards him, her curiosity piqued. "Qu'est-ce que c'est?" she asked, smiling. (What is it?)

"Yn, il y a quelque chose que je veux te dire," Joris began, his voice tinged with a mix of shyness and sincerity. (Yn, there's something I want to tell you)

Yn turned towards him, her eyes reflecting the fading sunlight. "Qu'est-ce que c'est?" she asked, genuinely curious. (What is it?)

"Euh, je… je t'aime bien, Yn. Plus que comme une amie," Joris confessed, his cheeks flushing with vulnerability. (Um, I… I really like you, Yn. More than as a friend)

Yn's eyes widened in surprise, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Joris, je… je ne m'attendais pas à ça," she admitted, her heart fluttering with a mixture of emotions. (Joris, I… I didn't expect this)

Joris looked down, nervously fidgeting. "Je comprends si tu ne ressens pas la même chose. C'est juste que je voulais te le dire." (I understand if you don't feel the same way. I just wanted to tell you)

Yn's heart skipped a beat as the weight of his words sank in. She looked into his eyes, a mixture of surprise and warmth reflected in her gaze. Y/N's heart raced, and a warm blush spread across her cheeks. She looked down at her plate for a moment before meeting his gaze again. "Joris, I feel the same way. I like you too"

A smile broke across Joris's face, a mix of relief and joy. "You do?" he asked, his eyes searching hers for confirmation

Y/N nodded, a shy smile playing on her lips. "Yes, Joris. I really do"

Joris, summoning the courage he had gathered throughout the day, stammered, "Yn, euh, est-ce que tu voudrais bien être ma petite amie?" (Yn, um, would you like to be my girlfriend?)

Yn's heart skipped a beat, and she looked at him with a mix of surprise and joy. "Oui, Joris. Ça serait génial." (Yes, Joris. That would be great.)

The shy boy's face lit up with a mixture of relief and joy. They shared a quiet moment, savoring the sweetness of the confession and the promise of something new.

As the weight of their confessions hung in the air, an electric tension enveloped them. Joris reached across the table, gently cupping Y/N's cheek with his hand. Their eyes locked, and in that moment, time seemed to stand still.

Unable to contain their feelings any longer, Joris leaned in, capturing Y/N's lips with his own. The world around them faded away as they shared a sweet, lingering kiss. It was a moment they had both been waiting for, a culmination of unspoken emotions.

When they finally pulled away, both were left breathless and wide-eyed. A shared bashful smile passed between them as the realization of what had just transpired set in

"Wow," Joris whispered, his cheeks tinted with a rosy hue "That was… amazing"

Y/N chuckled nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah, it was"

Realizing the evening had slipped away, Joris looked at his watch and furrowed his brow. "It's getting late, Yn. I should walk you home, just to make sure nothing happens"

Yn chuckled, appreciating his concern. "That would be nice, Joris"

Hand in hand, they strolled out of the park, the city lights of Monaco beginning to twinkle in the distance. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blossoms and the gentle murmur of their laughter, marking the beginning of a beautiful chapter in their young lives.

taglist: @love4lando @gcldtom @im-mi @topguncultleader @celesteblack08 @reblog-princess @sunf1ower16

[nuzipilled]

hihi! i'm a relatively new tumblr user, and one of the first enzi posts i came across was one of yours. since then i've been seeing other posts around, and every time they never fail to make me smile. to be completely honest, the hurt/comfort themes and n dying in a glue trap have become a big comfort of mine <3 (enzi makes me physically ill dear lord) thought i'd been following you but i guess not 💔 (its so jover) LIKE HELLO

anyway um did that and just wanted to stop by and say how much you've inspired me — both as an artist and writer. keep up the great work, and good luck with your commissions! (would comm you myself but im so broke i cant pay attention </3)

hope you're having a good one !!

aww hey thank you so much for taking the time out of your day to write such a kind message, i appreciate it tons! it makes me so happy my work spoke to you to a degree that you consider it an inspiration, it always makes me so happy to hear that whenever someone shares that with me.

picture of my beast as a gift

[vodika-vibes]

You are a true blessing to this generation of Star Wars fans tbh

May I have female (ex Jedi) inquisitor!reader x empire!cody

Can be fluff or something more serious like an interrogation or a mission

Love you sm <33

It Only Takes A Spark

Summary: Your relationship with Commander Cody is wrong. You know it. He knows it. Yet, neither of you are willing to let the other go.

Pairing: Purge Trooper Cody x F!Inquisitor Reader

Word Count: 2764

Warnings: Mentions of Torture, though nothing is shown in detail

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So...when you said you wanted imperial cody and imperial reader, you really meant you want almost 15 pages of these two doing everything in their power to stay together in spite of everything thrown against them, with a little fix-it hand waving. Right? Because that's what I wrote, lol.

“Ma’am,” You open your eyes and turn your gaze towards the man standing in the doorway, “We’re about to land.”

“Thank you Commander,” You reply, your voice soft as you slowly push to your feet. Pain shoots up your legs, a lingering gift from the Grand Inquisitor.

Commander Cody remains in the doorway, his expression blank but there’s a hint of concern leaking through the force, and you can only sense it because of how well you know the man. “Are you in need of medical treatment, ma’am?”

“I’m afraid that this is nothing that can be fixed, Commander.”

There’s a sharp burst of irritation and frustration and despair, and you glance at him. You know that he’s irrationally protective of you, and you know that he hates everything about this situation, but he’s usually better at containing himself than this.

For a moment there’s no movement, and then Commander Cody reaches out and presses the button that controls the door, allowing the door to slide shut. The room dims, no longer lit by the bright lights of the main part of the ship.

You watch as he pulls his helmet off and stares at you. “The Grand Inquisitor tortured you again, didn’t he?” He’s trying, so hard, to hide the fury in his voice, but he’s not trying hard enough to hide from you.

“You know I’m not a very good Sith, Cody.” You remind him gently, “I felt too deeply as a Jedi, and my Master thought that that would make me a good Sith. Instead I just became…apathetic.”

“You’re hardly apathetic, sarad.”

You glance at him, and tilt your head slightly, “I think you see more of me than anyone else.”

“That I can believe.” Cody absently passes his helmet from one hand to the other, “Tell me, do you think we’ll find a Jedi on this planet?”

You’re quiet for a long moment, “No.” You finally admit, “I think the Grand Inquisitor doesn’t expect us to find anyone here either, but we have to investigate anyway.”

“Good. I’m so…tired of hunting Jedi.”

You’re quiet for an even longer moment, “You volunteered for the position, Cody. You could have stayed a regular trooper.”

“Yeah, and we both know that it’s the only way that I was going to get that advanced aging issue handled.” Cody scoffs, “Plus…” He pauses, “Nevermind.”

“Go ahead. Speak your mind.”

“Joining the Purge Troopers meant that I’m able to protect you, sarad.” He frowns, “Well, in theory. I still can’t protect you from the Grand Inquisitor.” It’s a ridiculous sappy notion, and yet you can’t help but feel touched.

You shake your head, putting the emotions in the little box with all of the other things deserving of your protection, “You worry too much.”

“Someone has to.” Cody replies, and he sounds so tired that you feel a sting of guilt.

He doesn’t belong here. He’s too good for this life, for the Empire. But then, you’ve always known that.

The comm on his wrist chimes, and you watch as he glances at it. Cody exhales slowly, and for a moment his emotions are a whirlwind around him, before they vanish completely, and he pulls his helmet on, “We’ll be landing in five, Ma’am. Will you be joining us up front?”

You don’t answer for a moment, and then you nod once and pull your own helmet on. “Lead the way, Commander.”

Cody leads you through the small ship, and he settles himself at your shoulder as it lands on the planet's largest landing pad. Hardly necessary, you think, but people are funny about Inquisitors showing up on their planet.

You walk down the landing ramp, and a trembling man greets you on the landing pad. “It’s an honor to have an Inquisitor on our humble planet,” He stammers, wringing his hands, “But I assure you, there are no Jedi on Mora.”

“Perhaps.” Your voice is flat, “A report was made, and so we shall investigate. I trust this will not be an issue.”

“No, no! Of course not!” Somehow the Governor wrings his hands even more, “However, if you do find a Jedi…I hope you know that we aren’t harboring them willingly-”

“I will not make any accusation until I determine whether or not there is a Jedi on this planet.” You interrupt, “I wish to speak with the man who made the report.”

“I…yes…of course.” The governor nervously turns his back on you, “This way. I will be more than happy to show you where he lives.”

“You already know who made the report?” Commander Cody asks. 

“Well, yes. He was very proud of it, you see.”

You’re sure that if Cody wasn’t wearing his helmet, he’d be glaring at the Governor hard enough that he’d burst into flames. And, frankly, you don’t blame him. Everything about this situation is screaming that it’s going to be a false report afterall.

Still, a job is a job, so you allow the nervous man to lead you through the winding streets, until you reach a massive house. The Governor’s house, he explains proudly. There’s a young teenage boy sitting on the front steps, nervousness rolling off of him in waves.

The boy looks at you, and then at Cody, and then back to you. Before he looks at the Governor, “You never said that actual Inquisitors would come to interrogate me!” He blurts.

The Governor glares at the boy, and opens his mouth to say something, but you take a step forward, and he stills. “Commander,”

“Ma’am?”

“Ensure the Governor here doesn't run off. Feel free to shoot him if you have to.” You order. You hear Cody unholster his pistols, and the Governor whimpers in fear, but then you’re focused on the boy.

He’s Pantoran, with messily cut lavender hair. His eyes are wide with terror. His clothes are filthy, but not the carefully curated filth that you’d expect from a teenage boy…more like someone who works hard labor.

“You are the person who made the report?” You ask.

“Y-yes ma’am. But I wouldn’t of if I knew that you’d actually come here.” He blurts.

“Then why did you?”

“Um…well…” He nervously fumbles with an old comm, “We…a message went out…”

“ A message?”

“Yeah.”

“Show me.”

The boy opens a message on his comm and hands the small device to you. There, written in black and white, is the message the boy mentioned. A monetary reward to anyone who reports a jedi to the planetary government. 

“We…my ma and pa…we don’t have a lot of money. And I thought…that amount of credits would be enough that we’d have enough food-” The boy rambles, “I’m sorry for wasting your time-”

You pass the comm back to the boy, “Did you ever receive your payment?”

“Yes ma’am, though it was a lot less than he promised.”

“Hm.” You turn your attention to the Governor, “You can go.” You say to the boy. You remain still and quiet as he runs off, and it’s only when you’re sure that the boy won’t get involved that you speak again, “I’m find myself very curious,” You murmur, “As to why you might want an Inquisitor and a Purge Trooper on your planet.”

“I…I didn’t have a choice.”

“Is that right?”

“You have to believe me.”

“I think you’ll find that I do not have to do anything.” You correct quietly, “Commander, bring the Governor inside. We need information from him.”

“Yes ma’am,”

You absently wave your hand at the door, using the force to force it open to allow Cody access to the building. You follow him inside, and shut the door behind you.

“Do you wish to be present for the interrogation, ma’am?”

“It is probably for the best.”

“As you say.”

It takes Cody three hours to pull all of the information out of the Governor, and you watch, impassively, as the nervous man’s body lies sprawled on the ground between the pair of you.

“What do you think?” Cody asks as he cleans his knife.

You’re quiet for a long time, “I think it’s incredibly ballsy for him to claim that that Rebellion forced him to do this.”

“I agree.” Cody checks his knife and then slides it back into its holster, “That said, the Rebellion would probably do a lot of things to get their hands on an Inquisitor and a Purge Trooper.”

You pull your gaze away from the body, “You believe that we are the targets then?”

“Would make sense, wouldn’t it?

“It would.” You agree, “Generally speaking, hunting the Rebellion falls under the purview of the Imperial Army, not the Inquisitors or Purge Troopers.”

“You’re not wrong.” He’s quiet, “We should return to the ship and leave. I do not want you in any more danger than you have to be.”

You open your mouth to say something, and then you pause and tilt your head. “Ah. I fear that this is no longer our decision.”

“What do you-?”

Cody isn’t able to finish as the door bursts open, revealing a large group of people in mismatched armor, led by a man wielding a purple lightsaber.

“...well, it looks like there actually is a Jedi on this planet, ma’am.” Cody says dryly.

“So it would appear.”

Mace Windu, who you thought was dead, slides into the opening stance of Vaapad. “Lower your weapons. You’re both under arrest.”

“Well, seeing as you don’t have any actual authority in the galaxy, I would argue as to the legality of the word arrest,” You say flatly, “But very well. Stand down Commander.”

Cody pauses, and he releases a heavy sigh, as he slowly lowers his weapon to the ground and raises his hands. You, however, just raise your hands.

Mace Windu pulls your lightsaber from your waist, and hooks it on his own, and he roughly slaps force suppressors around your wrists.

Which is unfortunate, really. Since the force was the only thing keeping you conscious.

The last thing you hear as the world goes dark is Cody’s loud cursing.

Cody impatiently paces the cell that he’s been thrown in.

Well, it’s a room, with its own fresher and a very comfortable bed. But it’s still locked from the outside, which makes it a very comfortable cell, but a cell all the same.

He feels naked without his armor, but he does understand why he wasn’t allowed to keep it. He wouldn’t have allowed an enemy combatant to keep their armor either.

At least they gave him clothes to wear. Comfortable clothes even. 

And he is getting three meals a day, though, tellingly, no one has come to deliver the meals personally. Instead they’re being delivered by Skywalker’s protocol droid.

Not that Cody’s been too eager to talk to anyone.

His mind is locked on his sarad. And on the way she crumpled when the cuffs were slapped around her wrists.

Cody’s no fool. He knew that she was badly injured. He knew that she was using the Force to keep herself going. He hadn’t, however, been aware as to the extent of her injuries.

If he had he wouldn’t have allowed her to leave the ship at all.

Not that it matters at this point, of course.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts at the sound of his cell door sliding open. Cody half expects to see that damned droid again, so he’s genuinely surprised to see Rex and Wolffe standing there.

With Obi-Wan Kenobi standing behind them. 

“Cody!” Rex and Wolffe hurry into the room, stopping several feet away from him, “You’re alive!” Rex says, “I thought…for sure-”

“As if I would die so easily,” Cody replies, “I heard that you went down with your ship, though.”

“Yeah, well…” He shrugs awkwardly, “I did. I got lucky.”

“How’d you become a Purge Trooper, vod. I thought only NatBorns were slated for that.” Wolffe says, a frown on his face.

“It makes sense,” Obi-Wan says from the back of the room, “Anakin would absolutely want to keep you close.”

“I volunteered.” Cody says flatly, and when the three men jerk back in surprise, he continues, “Where is she? The Inquisitor I was with. What did you do to her?”

“She’s in the infirmary.” Rex answers without thinking, “We didn’t hurt her, vod.”

“I want to see her.”

“No one’s being allowed to see her.” Obi-Wan says, “She’s too dangerous.”

Cody’s smile is all teeth, “I’m dangerous. And I’m going to be more so unless you let me see her. And that is a goddamn threat.”

“Okay, easy there vod.” Wolffe says, “General, we can let him see her, right? So this doesn’t become a thing?”

“I think we probably should.” Obi-Wan agrees, sounding slightly shaken, “You’re not going to cause any problems, are you commander?”

“That depends on her.”

“Okay, that’s fair.” Obi-Wan pushes his hand through his graying hair, “Let’s go then.”

The infirmary where they’re keeping his sarad isn’t that far away. Which makes sense, you wouldn’t want an infirmary for prisoners located in the same place as an infirmary for everyone else.

Obi-Wan opens the door with a wave of a keycard, and then Cody ignores the three men walking with him. He pushes between his brothers and crosses the room to the bed where his sarad is sitting and peering out the barred windows.

“Hey,” She turns at the sound of his voice and he jolts when he sees her normal eye color, rather than the striking gold he had gotten used to, “Look at you.” Cody murmurs as he sits on the edge of the bed and presses a hand against her cheek, “No gold.”

Her lips turn up into the tiniest smile, “No force.” She offers as she holds up a single wrist.

“Are you okay?”

She considers his question for a moment, “I’m not in pain,” She finally says, “I had forgotten what it was like to not be in pain.”

“Oh, sarad.”

“I’m okay, Cody.” She reassures quietly, “Are you?”

“Yeah. They’ve been very kind so far.” He carefully tucks some of her hair behind her ear, “Has anyone come to talk to you yet?”

“No. No one.”

“Well, that’s okay then.” Cody says with a sigh, “I’d be cross if they were interrogating you while you were recovering from a medical procedure.”

“You’ll be cross anyway,” she points out as she lifts one hand to press against his, “You’re so protective.”

“Someone has to be.” Cody replies. 

Her small smile fades slightly, “Cody…”

“Hm?”

“...if you want to stay here. To stay with your brothers…I wouldn’t tell anyone.” She says quietly, “You…don’t belong with the Empire.”

“And you do?” Cody asks, not touching on her first comment.

She drops her gaze, “We both know that my master will never let me go. You don’t deserve to suffer my fate.”

“My place, sarad,” Cody replies as he uses a single finger to lift her chin, “is by your side. No matter where you might be.” He leans in and lightly bumps his forehead against hers, uncaring for the audience. “It doesn’t matter what you choose. Whether it’s returning to the Empire, staying here with the Rebellion, or moving to Tatooine to pick up moisture farming. I’m going to be right there next to you.”

She stares at him, and then her nose scrunches up adorably, “Moisture Farming?”

“Hey, you never know. Maybe you’ll like it.” It’s something of a relief though, seeing some of her personality peeking through the shroud of apathy she adopted to survive the Empire.

Cody brushes his finger down her cheek, an idea starting to form, “You know…” He murmurs, “We could stay.”

“They’ll never let me stay.”

“They,” Cody says, his voice raising slightly so that their audience can hear you, “are two members of the Jedi Council who were so incapable of doing their duty that they allowed a large number of their padawans to get kidnapped and tortured.”

“...rather uncalled for, Commander.” Obi-Wan mutters from the doorway.

“If and when your Master comes looking for you, he’ll also have to deal with me. And I’ve become very good at killing Force users.” Cody adds with a wry smile.

She sighs softly, and her eyes close, “Alright then.” Her free hand comes up to press against his cheek, “We’ll try it your way.”

“I promise, sarad, no one will ever hurt you again.”

And a genuine smile crosses her face as she moves her other hand to press against his cheek, “Well, if you say so then it must be true.”

[actualbird]

biggest thank you to @kiwimansi who i commissioned for soft fluffy winter marilukes and gOD GODDDDD IT TURNED OUT SO SWEET AND LOVELY UUEUEUEUUEUEUEEE