#he does this by essentially walking up to the captain and going 'hey can you give this list of suspicious men guns pretty please? xoxo'

[stoportotouch]

tozer and hickey between them have the complete energy of one of paolo albiani (from verdi's simon boccanegra). this is a joke which will certainly land with the majority of the terror's fandom and with the majority of opera fans.

[fluentmoviequoter]

I Don't Want Easy

This is a combination of an idea I had and this request!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader

Summary: When Tim leaves in the middle of the night, you don't know what happened. After you find out you're pregnant a few weeks later, you must decide whether you want to wait for the man who abandoned you or move on.

Warnings: angst, pregnancy (r is pregnant), discussions of divorce, brief mention of fainting and hospitals, mention of cheating, there is a fluffy ending with comfort I promise

Word Count: 2.0k+ words

A/N: I feel like this could have been better and longer, so I may continue it later!

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

You’re used to being alone when you wake up. Today, though, feels different. The house is silent and there’s no sign of Tim.

Four hours before, Tim moved silently through the shadows of your home to gather his things. His Metro captain texted him an urgent SOS, a signal to go undercover. You know that Tim has been undercover before, but the current case requires a certain disconnection. Tim can’t tell anyone, not even you, his wife, that he is leaving or where he is going. Uttering a single word would jeopardize numerous lives, and despite Tim’s guilt about leaving you, the lingering idea of being the reason for the death of his fellow officers convinces him to stay quiet. Tim kisses your forehead and whispers an apology before he slips out, unsure when, or if, he will see you again.

As you walk through the house later, you notice some of Tim’s essential belongings are gone. There’s no note, no messages, and you feel a deepening sense of dread. Tim has been stressed lately, and you know that he can struggle to deal with his emotions. When you see that Tim’s go bag is gone, you know somehow that Tim is gone, and not just for the day. The sunrise illuminates your home and the absence of your husband… perhaps your new normal.

✯✯✯✯✯

Six weeks later, you’re pacing in your kitchen as Angela ends a phone call.

“Nothing,” she sighs. “No one in the division has heard from him since, uh, since he left you,” she tells you.

“I’m scared,” you admit quietly.

“Hey, no matter what happens, you’re not alone, okay?”

Angela pulls you close before hugging you. The timer on your phone chimes a moment later, and Angela nods before leading you back to the bathroom. A pregnancy test lies in wait, and you clutch Angela’s hand in one of yours as you flip it over.

“It’s positive,” you whisper.

“And?” Angela asks.

“I’m really happy, I think. But I also don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I can’t keep waiting for him, Angela.” “He may not be gone, not from you,” Angela soothes. “He’s disappeared suddenly before.”

“For a day, Angela! It’s been a month and a half. Tim isn’t coming back.”

“Then what do you want to do?”

You chew your bottom lip before asking, “Does Wesley know any good divorce lawyers?”

✯✯✯✯✯

Within a week, you have the papers to file for divorce on grounds of abandonment. Your lawyer is confident that if Tim can’t be found by the LAPD, he won’t contest the divorce. You, however, can’t seem to find the courage to sign the papers and return them. After another sleepless night worrying about Tim and what you’ll do without him, you call your lawyer and tell her you’ve changed your mind.

“Keep the papers, okay?” she says. “And if you change your mind and want to file them later, give me a call.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Four months later, your stomach is proudly showing your baby bump. The divorce papers are still sitting on your table, and you look at them every time you walk past them. Rubbing your hand over your growing bump, you wonder what happened to push Tim away so thoroughly and so suddenly. With your due date growing closer and your future on the line, you know that you need to file the papers, but you can’t.

Across town, Tim and three other Metro officers stumble into the station. They’ve been working nonstop, living in violent environments, and moving around so frequently that they often didn’t know where they were when they tried to sleep.

“There’s one more house to purge,” their captain says. “If we can hit it today, you can all go home and sleep easy.”

Tim sighs before leaving the station yet again. The case is closed by the end of the day, but Tim doesn’t know if he should or can go home. You’ve been alone for so long; Tim doesn’t even know if you are still his wife.

After checking into a nearby hotel, Tim gets comfortable for the first time in too long, but his thoughts keep drifting to you and the emptiness beside him.

You wake with a start as glass shatters. The sun is rising, and you rush into your closet to call 911. They promise that an officer is nearby and will arrive to help you soon. With your hands clutched protectively over your stomach, you wait for the familiar sound of sirens. Angela will insist that you stay with her until your house is secure once again. Your thoughts are ripped from Angela and her protectiveness as someone walks into your bedroom.

“LAPD!” an officer yells from the front door.

The man in your room rushes back out, and you hear the following commotion as he’s placed under arrest. Standing shakily, you try to calm down before you exit the closet.

“Bradford,” an officer says when he sees you.

Tim turns, and his shoulders drop, like he’s never been more relieved. When his eyes drop to your bump, however, the tension returns, and his eyes widen. You watch his fast-changing reaction, and when it meets your fear from the break-in and the stress of being pregnant alone, you feel like you may faint. As you extend an arm toward the wall to steady yourself, one of the other officers moves toward you and yells for the paramedics. When they enter, and push Tim back, he can’t look away from you and the small crowd separating him from you. Your hand isn’t visible from his position, but he looks down at his wedding ring and wonders if you still have one on, too.

“How far along are you?” a kind EMT asks.

“Uh, 17 weeks,” you answer.

Tim calculates quickly and realizes that you got pregnant just before he left. Or after. Because you are safe, though you agree to go to the hospital to get checked out, Tim leaves before you do to return to the station. He won’t admit that your reaction to seeing him again drove him away, not to anyone at the station. Your reaction causes him to think that you don’t want him around, and don’t need him, so Tim will stay gone.

“Tim!” Angela calls when he returns.

“Hey, Lopez. I need your help,” he replies.

“I heard the call over the radio. How much do you know?”

“More than I’m supposed to, I’m sure.”

“What are you going to do about it?” “Move out. Permanently.”

“What? Timothy, are you out of your mind? She needs you! She’s been miserable the past four months!” “Because of me! I made her miserable because I didn’t think I had another choice, and I won’t do it again. I have a choice now.”

“Tim, you have to go home and talk to her.”

“She has other people now, Angela.”

Angela stops quickly, and the look in Tim’s eyes saddens her.

“You don’t think you’re the father?”

“It’s been a long time since I left,” Tim says softly.

“She wouldn’t cheat on you.”

“I know that. But if she knew that I left her, and left me, too…”

“Go home and talk to her,” Angela demands. She knows the truth and knows that Tim needs to hear it. “Trust me for once.”

When you get back from the hospital, everything is a blur. You’re upset because someone broke into your house, emotional because of the pregnancy hormones, and confused about why Tim was here, acting like an ordinary patrol cop after disappearing for months. Everything hurts, inside and out, yet you don’t know how to deal with it without Tim.

Someone knocks on the door, and you assume one of your neighbors saw the police car drop you off and wants to check on you. You are incredibly wrong; you realize when you open the door and see Tim. He freezes with his hand poised to knock again.

The sight of you causes Tim to panic. He suddenly can’t find the words to say, because none of them seem good enough to explain himself and make you see that he still loves you. His sudden silence reads as disinterest, and his lack of comfort causes your emotional, stressed, confused body to react poorly. Your stomach flips and you leave the door open as you rush inside. Tim watches your face change before you run inside, and he doesn’t hesitate to follow after you.

Tim enters the bathroom beside you and gathers your hair in one of his hands as the other presses against your spine.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “I got you. I’m not leaving this time.”

Your breaths grow shallow, and Tim pulls you close until you have both calmed down. Once your breaths begin to match his, Tim moves to see your face, and you ask him to take you to the kitchen for water. He agrees and keeps both hands on you as he helps you stand and leads you through your once-shared house. As you prepare a glass of ice water, Tim notices the papers on your table. He reads the names at the top and hates himself for waiting so long to try to talk to you; he should have come straight home and shown you what you mean to him.

“Do you- do you want me to sign these?” Tim asks as he raises the petition.

When you see him holding divorce papers, and offering to sign them because he thinks that you want him to, tears blur your eyes, and your water falls to the floor. Ice cubes and water spill across the kitchen floor, and you sink to your knees in the puddle to gather the broken pieces. It’s symbolic, and your tears multiply as you realize that your life is similarly spilled and broken.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Tim calls as he enters. “Don’t.”

He lowers his hands to help you up, but you don’t move. Tim sits in the water beside you and waits for you to come to him. The moment your head hits his chest, your tears slow. Months without Tim didn’t change anything, you realize; nothing important, because he can still comfort you with a touch and cares about you and your safety.

“What are you doing here?” you ask against his shirt.

Tim sighs before telling you about the case. He doesn’t leave anything out, because you deserve the truth, but he doesn’t complain when you cling to him during his account of the most dangerous moments. He came home, and that’s what matters now, but you have something to explain to him, too.

“I didn’t sign the papers,” you admit. “Couldn’t. When I found out I was pregnant, I didn’t want to do it alone, but I couldn’t imagine doing it with anyone but you. Tim, you could’ve come home the moment you returned.”

“No one would have blamed you for leaving. Anticipating it was better than being blindsided by it.”

“So, what now?” you ask.

Tim kisses your cheek, and you turn to look at him before giving him a proper welcome-home kiss.

“Now,” he says against your lips. He pulls back and continues, “Now, we start where we left off, and I do what I should have done four months ago.”

“What’s that?”

“Not leave. You, both of you, are never going to be alone again. I promise.”

You nod and move your hands over his shoulders to pull yourself closer. Your bump gets in the way, and Tim chuckles before murmuring that he’ll have to get used to that.

“Let’s go,” Tim says before lifting you from the wet floor. “Lopez is probably calling you.”

“Tim. This won’t be easy,” you say. “We both missed a lot.”

“I don’t want easy. I want to be married to you and learn to do it all together, no matter how long that takes. Anything you want, it’s done. You want room, say the word.”

“I don’t want room now.”

“Then let’s go catch up. Want me to order food?”

“That or cook in a wet kitchen.”

“What do you and the baby here want?”

“Daughter,” you interject. Tim hums in question and you smile before explaining, “We’re having a girl.”

[thivell]

Sharing Some OCs

Hi hey! I have uhh… a Jedi and a handful of half baked clone sketches I did when I was bored (there’s a few more but post is already long)

also this is a real long post and I apologize

——————————————————————————————————

Jedi OC

Dunno how effective his pole staff works but hey it’s cool and does exist canonically -

——————————————————————————————————

Clones - most of my sillies are clones rn. Currently I’m working out a battalion that’ll be my little clone collection but I also have an oddball squad that’s a little mix of canonical characters and ocs

451st Battalion Clones

not all my babes are drawn out but a few are- they are incredibly rough though and we’re drawn when I was just finishing up the clone wars show

Commander Delgado/ CC-8933

Captain Maverick/ CT-4751

First Lieutenant Makeshift / CT-9663

Second Lieutenant Krypt / CT-5769

That’s it for my boys rn, but I’ll slowly start making my way through the rest of them- with my stuff still being fidgeted around I’ll most likely change the 451st boys into being 176th and go under my Jedi OC.

——————————————————————————————————

Marines

I have two marines Port/CT-3742 and Starboard/CT-5065. They got their names because of the directions of the numbers (Port’s are all facing left and Star’s are mostly facing right). But what’s silly about them is they’re always on opposite sides with Starboard seen on the left of Port and vice versa especially when they walk. Why is that you ask? Well it’s because while most clones are ambidextrous they still have preferred hands; for Port that’s his right and for Starboard it’s his left. They’re both little shits that when combined make one half of a braincell and that’s all they got and they definitely gaslight the shinies into thinking they have port and starboard mixed up. They were based off of two orcas with the same names.

——————————————————————————————————

Oddball Squad Clones

so the oddballs are essentially clones that look too different or are deformed due to genetic degradation, you can think of them as being like 99 but being the precursors to the bad batch. As stated earlier it’s a mix between canon and non canon clones. As of right now there are

Two canon clones - Captain Vaughn and Commander Blackout

I have not drawn Commander Blackout but he has aniridia which is an eye condition where there is little to no pupil in the iris, causing vision issues. For him it’s not too severe, he needs some corrective measures in his helmet but can see even without them, but he does have light sensitivity and often gets migraines due to fluctuating pressure changes behind his eyes. He also has incredibly dark eyes and blackout styled tattoos that start from his upper back then go down to his pecs and down his arms, also has some on his calves.

Vaughn I have drawn- he has vitiligo that in the photo mainly collects on his face with multiple different layers of different skin pigmentation showing, but it is a full body thing (it even goes to his hair). But it’s one of the main reasons he keeps his helmet it on for long periods of time

There’s 4 non canon clones right now: Whiteout, Zombie, Caid, and Discovery. Both Whiteout and Zombie have sketches but Discovery and Caid don’t.

Caid (Kade)

Caid’s thing is that he is completely mute due to the fact that his larynx never developed. He’s got some skin warping and scarring over his throat from it. He has quite of a few scars over his face and notably knuckles because he throws himself into every battle. He’s a little spicy and sassy. you can think of him as Bumblebee from the transformer series if you’ve seen that. Right now his backstory is a little wobbly but everyone in the oddball squad usually has multiple facets of training if they can. Caid mainly works as a nursery care taker and watching over the tubies and the other very young clones but he also goes on high stake reconnaissance missions to gather intel. The way he communicates is mainly though GHS (Galactic Hand Signing- my SW version of an international sign language) and he also has short field commands embedded into the com device in his vambrace (he usually has a data pad on him too to type out anything he needs).

Discovery

Discovery has two major deformities that affect his arms; his left arm barely ever developed and ends mid bicep and his right arm stops just after his elbow for a few inches. For this he was given cybernetic replacements but he’s mostly used as a lab rat for testing, he doesn’t like it but it hardly squashes his never ending child like curiosity with the world he’s been exposed to. Usually getting him in trouble with Vaughn and frequently visiting Whiteout, the medic.

Whiteout/ CT-8651

Whiteout has full albinism, from his skin to his eyes, and while they aren’t true twins- he and blackout consider themselves ones as they have been in the squadron the longest. Whiteout specializes in being a medic but also does pretty well with a sniper. He’s incredibly soft spoken and sweet and occasionally gets a stutter but he’s trying his best. Especially with Zombie watching over him now he feels safer to stand up for himself.

Zombie

now .. the zombie explanation has to be a little lighter for the sake of ages and tumblr. I cant sugar coat this exactly but I won’t go into the nasty details.. Zombie got his name dude to the fact he was put back together with parts that belonged to other squad members. It was a suicide mission and none of them came back alive but they were used in an experiment by one of Nala Se’s apprentices. He got his name zombie 1) from his lack of talking 2) his usually stone cold or mildly agitated exterior and 3) from the fact his scarring show off how he was literally stitched back together.

He wasn’t originally part of the oddball squad since on his original body his only odd thing was the fact he and green eyes but after he comes back he very quickly gets pulled into it. He has an absolute soft spot for Whiteout and is the equivalent to scary attack dogs with separation anxiety

Whiteout and Zombie as of right now will eventually be tagged on to 104th with Wolffe and Caid might be going into 212th or works mostly under them for missions.

that’s all for now lovelies, thank you for reading!💕

[headkiss]

Hello there! I had an idea for a Christmas prompt so I hope it’s alright to send it over in case you like it :) Where I live, we have this Christmas light festival where essentially this giant park that you drive through has been decorated with enormous Christmas light displays and in the middle is a little market to sell hot chocolate and roast marshmallows. Maybe Steve and the reader could go to something like that?

hiii thank u sm for requesting!!! i went with the drive-thru type festival and i hope u like it | 0.6k words of fluff

Steve comes home with tickets to a drive-thru Christmas light festival and takeout for dinner.

It’s not unusual that he brings surprises home. Sometimes it’s a meal, one time it was a stray cat he found outside that now roams your apartment. Now that Christmas is getting closer, Steve’s surprises have become both frequent and festive.

“Hey, baby?” He calls, walking through the door.

“Yeah?”

“We’re going on a date tonight, okay?”

“Okay. What is it?”

He sits next to you on the couch, the takeout bag placed on the coffee table, the tickets held out for you to grab.

“Christmas light festival,” you read aloud.

“I thought it sounded fun. They even have their own radio station to switch to that plays Christmas songs, isn’t that cool?”

“The coolest, Stevie.”

You’ll never get over how sweet it is for him to see things like this and think of you; to plan a date when he knows you’d be perfectly happy staying in with him. He’s always thoughtful, and you’re always loving him for it.

The takeout is eaten and cleared away quickly, washed down with a movie. Your legs over Steve’s lap, his hands resting on them with ease. You never knew things could be so natural, and yet, here you are.

You and Steve both bundle up for your date, despite it taking place in the car. It’s winter, and you like how cozy he looks in his thick jacket and scarf, anyway. No beanie for him, though. That hair is too important.

While you’re finishing getting your stuff on, Steve’s outside warming up the car so you don’t have to sit in the freezing cold. Always a gentleman.

Countless dates and Steve is always excited no matter what. He likes to be with you anytime and any place, but it makes him feel good to do things for you, to be a couple in every way.

When you join him in the BMW, getting in and shutting the door quickly, the first thing he says is, “seatbelt.”

“You planning on crashing?” You tease, though you click the seatbelt into place like always.

“Me? Never. I am a great driver, baby. Just making sure my passenger is safe and secure.”

“Sure thing, captain.”

You don’t know it but Steve drives a bit more carefully when you’re in the car with him. Precious cargo.

As you approach, you can see the Christmas lights easily, the colors that seem to blur together if you state for too long. Some are twinkling, some blinking in a pattern down the wires. It’s beautiful.

“Sometimes you have some great ideas, Steve.”

“Sometimes?”

“Okay, often.”

“I’ll take it,” he says, pulling up to the window of a small building where he hands the tickets in.

Your eyes are stuck on the lights outside, so close your breath fogs up the window and you have to back up a bit. It might seem silly to be so enthralled by some lights, but it’s pure Christmas spirit and it’s pretty hard not to feel good with it.

The best part by far is the tunnel of Christmas lights, enough room for the car to get through, the lights surrounding you even overhead.

“It’s so pretty,” you say.

Steve looks at you then, at the way the different colors of the lights hit your face, the way they reflect in your eyes, the softness of your smile. Yeah, he sure does have some good ideas, he thinks.

“You like it?” He asks.

“Love it. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

He leans over the center console for a kiss. It’s hard not to kiss after saying those words to each other. It finished off the sentiment like punctuation to a sentence.

You only pull away when the car behind you honks.

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #310: DEATH in OLYMPIA!

November, 1989

The triumph of BLASTAAR!

He's won already? Then what will the rest of the issue be about?

Blastaar is a nothing villain to me but I gotta say. Another good cover. Byrne's run has been good with covers.

Last time in Avengers: the Avengers had some business with some pissed off Lava Men but the only important take away is that Gilgamesh somehow died. Except he's not quite dead, only mostly dead.

The Avengers took him to Sersi to get him looked at, she shrugged and suggested they take him to Olympia. Except they only found a crater where Olympia should be (because Sprite accidentally blew the whole city into the Negative Zone).

Thor uses Mjolnir to track down Olympia and the Avengers explore the strangely empty city. And then Blastaar comes out of nowhere and blows everyone up.

This time: Sudden Odin

HEY, LISTEN TO THE CAPTION BOX WHEN IT SAYS TO ATTEND.

Odin calls the Warriors Three of Hogun, Fandral, Volstaag because his Odin-Senses have been tingling that Thor has come into the Negative Zone.

There's a bunch of Thor Lore - or Thlore - that I don't want to get into but for reasons Asgard is currently also in the Negative Zone.

But Odin senses Some Kind of Danger. He can't be more specific because he's Odindrowsy and must go into the Odinsleep soon. But he wants the Warriors Three to go, find Thor, and help him with whatever.

Meanwhile, in Olympia, Thor grabs Sersi and shields her from Blastaar.

... Byrne, you're the only one writing Avengers. How are you forgetting stuff issue to issue?

Last issue, Thor couldn't touch Sersi at all because she'd weirdly gone intangible.

Anyway, Blastaar and Thor trade boasts for a bit. Blastaar boasts that surely Thor didn't forget how much of a whallop Blastaar's blaasting packs? And Thor has a much stronger retort that Mjolnir is really cool and he's gonna kick Blastaar's ass.

Thor throws Mjolnir, Blastaar deflects it with his blaasting, and Thor dunks on him some more by saying if Blastaar "hast within thy soul no single shred of nobility... that thou might also be a foe truly worthy of a scion of Asgard."

Blastaar retorts by blowing up Sersi.

Which Thor does not care for as a rebuttal.

Shooting the hostage is a pretty dumb thing to do when facing a superhero. It just makes them mad and now you have no hostage to threaten.

Ya dumb, Blastaar.

Elsewhere, Nazi-punching pals Captain America and Namor McKenzie emerge from beneath some rubble. Or rather, Namor drags Cap out.

Cap is in bad shape.

Namor only knows that a bolt of pure, concussive force hit them so fast that Namor couldn't tell where it came from.

But there's the pyrotechnics of a big battle happening at the tower, so they know where to look for answers.

Cap tries to tell Namor not to fly off half-cocked since Cap is still too shaky to back him up. But flying off half-cocked is what Namor does.

Namor: "Do not try to stop me, old ally. He that attacked us has besmirched the honor of the avenging son of Atlantis! If he awaits in yonder tower... the waiting shall not be long before he knows my vengeance!"

Cap knows better than to try to stop Namor from flying off half-cocked so he tells him to at least be careful. Y'know, think before he acts. Wait for backup if he can.

Namor has already flown away so fast that Cap might as well be talking to a wall.

Cap speculates to himself that Namor's "manic nature" might be caused by his hybrid nature, being half-Atlantean and half-human.

I think this is foreshadowing a reveal that exactly this. Namor is a jerk sometimes because his body chemistry is weird and spending too much time on land or in the ocean fucks with his moods.

I think later stuff walked back on that and had it be that Namor is a jerk sometimes because he's a jerk sometimes.

Anyway, Byrne sets up retcons with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, huh?

Captain America is interrupted in thinking about what a genetic nightmare a half-human half-Atlantean is when he spots a crater with She-Hulk lying in the center of it.

She apparently did see what hit her so she's able to tell Cap what the class already knows. Blastaar is the dude that's antagonizing them today.

Since the battle is raging in the tower of the Great Hall that she and Sersi were exploring, She-Hulk comments that she didn't expect Sersi to give such a good fight to Blastaar.

And she's instantly proven right a panel later when, instead, Thor and Blastaar explode out of the tower, locked in combat.

Hey.

She-Hulk.

Every Eternal is a flying brick. Have some respect.

Also, couldn't Sersi just turn Blastaar into a pig? What's the limit on that?

I mean, she can't now. She blew up. But if she did get a chance to fight, doesn't she have a win button for like 90% of fights?

Anyway.

Thor and Blastaar take a really long time to fall out of the tower, punching each other along the way. Then Namor jumps after them and yanks Thor off Blastaar so only Blastaar is plummeting. But Blastaar blaasts the ground to soften his impact.

Meanwhile, a mysterious man in a white suit kirby krackle-ports into an alley, scaring off a homeless man.

The mysterious man is like good nobody who matters noticed me MY PLAN IS GOING FLAWLESSLY!

Hi, new subplot.

Granted, Avengers East Coast doesn't have nearly as many subplots as Avengers West Coast has. Avengers West Coast is all subplots and Avengers East Coast is all main plots.

Weirdly unbalanced but hey. Maybe that is a-changing.

Back at the plot, the Avengers have all surrounded Blastaar, who is blaasting nowhere near them to keep them at bay.

He says that obviously, they're trying to trick him into targeting one of them so the rest can gang up on him BUT HE IS TOO SMART FOR THAT.

She-Hulk asks him to exposit why he's even here. Last time she saw him (back in Fantastic Four #318), Annihilus blasted him to atoms.

Usually people die when they're killed.

This 100% works to get Blastaar talking because villains love expositing.

So back in that FF issue, Blastaar's own men had turned on him and shot him with a stasis ray. Since he was held in stasis, he couldn't be disintegrated. Which is the opposite of stasis. Obviously.

When Annihilus annihilated everyone else, Blastaar just got sucked into Negative Zone space and floated around for a while. He eventually got sucked into a negative space wedgie and got dropped on Olympia when it was dunked into the Negative Zone.

This all makes perfect sense, insofar as anything in comics ever makes perfect sense. As in, not really but sure.

The Eternals found Blastaar near death and not being dicks, they decided to heal him.

Blastaar: "I was grateful. To show my thanks, I tried to slay them all as quickly and painlessly as I could. Foolishly, they resisted... And the price of that resistance was utter destruction! I only hope it pained the stupid brutes as much as their stupidity pained Blastaar!"

You're kind of a dick, dude.

Anyway, in a twist, Blastaar was talking to distract the heroes, who were attentively listening.

He blaasts Thor and She-Hulk. Namor jumps right into battle and gets immediately blaasted.

Leaving just Captain America.

Captain America: "Blast it all! What comes over Namor?! Sometimes he acts as if he doesn't have a brain in his head!"

Cap tells Blastaar not to get cocky because he's still standing, which Blastaar scoffs at. Captain America doesn't even have super powers! Depending on the era!

Captain America: "Maybe not. The super-soldier serum that transformed me into Captain America made me a perfect physical specimen, not a super one... But I still have a few aces to play... Such as my legendary shield!"

Really depends on whether you consider peak human to be superpowers or not.

Both Captain America and Black Panther have a thing where a super drug made them about as strong, fast, durable, whatever as it is physically possible for a person to be.

But a comic book's idea of what that is means the two of them do stuff that is blatantly super-human but in the world of a comic, anybody could hypothetically train to do maybe?

I usually just consider it to be a superpower, albeit a low key superpower.

Even if you don't consider peak human a superpower, the super-soldier serum has slowed Cap's aging way the hell down. Which sounds super to me.

Anyway. Cap rushes right at Blastaar but with his shield up, allowing him to deflect the obvious counterattaack.

He manages to tackle Blastaar but the Negative Zonian kicks Cap away and then blaasts the tower of the Great Hall, sending debris raining down on Cap.

But then Cap is saved by the Warriors Three!

Hogun smashes the rubble before it can smash Cap.

Blastaar thinks oh shit more Asgardians. So the instant they turn to look at Thor pulling himself out from under some rubble, Blastaar books it.

He just scarpers.

He decides to exercise the better part of valor until he can turn the situation back to his advantage but then the weather turns against him.

The wind kicks up, the air glows with energy, and Blastaar is lifted off the ground.

It's weird weather but it's not weird Thor weather!

It's weird Eternal energy ghost weather!

The energy ghosts bonk Blastaar into the scenery for a bit and then throw him to the ground. They coalesce into the Eternals and then Ikaris does what he does and kicks Blastaar's ass.

Cap asks the question everyone is wondering. Hey, why aren't the Eternals dead?

And Sersi explains it.

Eternals are hard to kill.

They have "complete control of their physical structure, even down to the atomic level."

Blastaar lucked into his blaasts having resonant frequency to disrupt the Eternals' control of their atoms. So they disintegrated. But it just took them time to regain their senses.

Then they pulled themselves back together and kicked Blastaar's ass. There was no reason for the Avengers to even be here! The Eternals would have solved the problem eventually!

Hell, Blastaar blaasting apart the Eternals was a one-time thing. They apparently all adjusted their resonance frequency so he won't be able to stomp them again.

Okay, so what about Gilgamesh?

He was just away from Olympia too long. All the Eternals are bonded to their city but Gilgamesh spent so long in exile that he's bonded with Olympia so much that the city is life-sustaining for him.

Actually, I can't tell whether Gilgamesh was away from the city too long or that Olympia being dunked into the Negative Zone weakened him at the wrong moment and he got hurt in a way that he couldn't heal from without Olympia.

Eh, I guess it doesn't matter.

The take-away is that Gilgamesh is leaving the Avengers and eh. I can't say I'll miss him because the writer shake-ups meant that he never really got a personality or a niche on the team.

Like the Worst Roster, all I can say about Gilgamesh is that damn, he coulda been more.

Thena mentions that it's a pity Gilgamesh has to stay in Olympia.

Thena: "It pleased me to have a member of our race serving side by side with the noble Avengers. It bespoke a day when human and Eternal might stand as one, all ancient fears and jealousies gone forever." Captain America: "A day well worth hoping for, my lady. And perhaps, we should not too soon assume the link between our people has been broken. There are other Eternals. Others who might take the place of Gilgamesh in the ranks of the Avengers."

It's gonna be Sersi.

I don't know how long it's going to take but we're almost in the 90s so it's gonna be any time now.

Hurry up, Sersi.

Cap asks how Olympia wound up in the Negative Zone and, yeah, Sprite did it. He accidentally exploded the city into another dimension.

He apologizes as much as he cares to. The non-apology apology "it was never my intent to cause distress."

It doesn't matter. Thena fixes it with a single button press.

Blastaar gets taken away by the Warriors Three to go to Asgard jail. Thor declines returning to Asgard because he likes hanging out with Avengers on Midgard (Earth).

As the Warriors Three leave on their space chariot, Olympia fades out back to Earth. And the next time box teases big event Acts of Vengeance.

And I didn't care for this two-parter.

For all the many plans that Byrne seems to have for West Coast Avengers, he seems to be spinning his wheels in this book.

It really feels like this whole two-parter just accomplishes bringing Blastaar back (who cares) and immediately putting him in Limbo again (Asgardian jail).

That's a point B that didn't need to exist between his death that wasn't going to stick permanently and an actual good story that comes after this.

Olympia getting blown into Negative Zone space because Sprite touched a thing he shouldn't have touched, Blastaar conveniently being able to solo the Eternals, the Eternals able to come back and kick his ass without any input from the Avengers, sending Olympia back to Earth taking one button press... It all makes the story feel really pointless.

What changes if the Avengers had just gone to Olympia, it wasn't blown up, and Thena tells them what's wrong with Gilgamesh? Not a lot.

I don't like what Byrne is doing in West Coast Avengers but at least he seems to want to be there. How can you have no ideas already? You've only been writing six issues!

Maybe I'm just grumpy. My cursed future knowledge tells me that Avengers Island gets destroyed in Acts of Vengeance and that's more squandered potential. More writer shake-ups meant that the setting never really got a chance to shine.

Oh, well. Bomber jackets lie in the future. Bright hearts, clear eyes, something something.

Follow @essential-avengers for all these posts but in order and without other stuff. Like, reblog, comment, do stuff, I dunno. I get lonely down here in the italics.

[wellntruly]

M*A*S*H - Viewguide, S3

Are you interested in the long-running anti-war situation tragicomedy M*A*S*H (1972-1983), but there are simply so many asterisks and so many episodes?

Well I can’t help you with the asterisks, but nor can I help myself: I started watching all 11 seasons of M*A*S*H, and bringing back for you my viewing selections, chosen for The Qualities.

— — —

You should have seen me at Movie Madness pulling out the drawer for “TV: 1970s” and finding this complete stack of covers for all 11 seasons of M*A*S*H. Lost in the saaauuce.

But, amazing news: not only did I make the surprising discovery that what's on Hulu is clearly a restored and remastered version of the far crunchier material on the DVDs, but also that I DEEPLY prefer the original laugh track! It turns out, the laughter is the score. They’d cut to it like music. Without that melody it was built around everything felt so off, so eerily quiet.

Incidentally, over the recent holiday weekend I sang all of 1.75 non-chorus lines of ‘Suicide Is Painless’ in the kitchen and my dad just said, “MASH.” We then talked about all our faves while playing solitaire and drinking maple whiskey sours by the woodstove. Cannot believe I’m getting such a fond memory with my father from M*A*S*H but I’m not sure why, that seems right.

Here are my own suggested favorites from the third season, the last of an era!!! /weeping

M*A*S*H - Season 3 Recommended sequence

3x02 ‘Rainbow Bridge’ - It is amazing that the first episode of this season that aired was the first episode of this season that aired, as everything about the second episode, ‘Rainbow Bridge’, feels like the premiere of the third season of a service comedy (slowly turning dramedy). The 4077th get a message from the Chinese that they have nine wounded American GIs that need more medical help than they can offer, and give their coordinates 50 miles behind the line. “Could be a trap, Trap.” GREAT STUFF. And hey, Season 3? Someone’s upgraded the photography department! She’s moving, folks (the camera). They also keep cutting to Loudon Wainwright perched above the camp with his guitar singing some absurd song about Tokyo like every third scene transition. Why? Couldn’t tell ya. Except to repeat the first line.

3x03 ‘Officer of the Day’ - Henry’s away and Frank makes Hawkeye be Officer of the Day. I love that when he’s backed into a management position, Captain Pierce is actually rather good at it. Tired and clever and humane. It’s gonna sound odd, but he’s almost Lawful, just his code is nothing Army regulation, simply Do The Least Harm. He is a stickler on that. Also contains the best visual punchline I've seen yet. Simply burst out laughing.

3x04 'Iron Guts Kelly' - Margaret kills a general and is like, who would help me hide this body, and doesn’t even have to think about it. Cordially, [throwing a pillow in the face of me of the past] YOU DIDN’T KNOW WHAT YOU HAD, YOU DOSED UP LUNATIC.

3x05 ‘O.R.’ - Ha ha I COULD EAT MY OWN HAND.

100% in surgery, zero laugh track, which does forever prove The Power of Editing (!) as it runs so beautifully, no weird stilted silence like when you take it out later, and also I’m changed as a person. 10/10 I am gnawing.

3x06 'Springtime' - Update ‘Springtime’ an essential episode as writer & actor Mary Kay Place’s literal-literal self-insert M*A*S*H script in which she plays a hot nurse in glasses getting seduced by Radar O’Reilly. I am….obsessed with her. Also Klinger gets married!!!

3x08 ‘Life With Father’ - This one is ultimately a lil' silly sure, but I think I’m powerless to resist Radar, Father Mulcahy, and this young Korean mom moving Heaven & Earth to get a rabbi on the radio to walk them through performing a bris for her Jewish-Korean infant son. And that’s the A-plot, the B-plot is Hawkeye and Trapper are trying to complete a Hidden Picture to win a pony.

3x09 ‘Alcoholics Unanimous’ - I wasn’t going to include both alcoholism episodes, but this is such a good Margaret ep I couldn’t kick it out of bed. Loretta Swit is just so, so funny in this one. I was losing it. Even our impossible miscreants are like lol hang out with us! Favorite drunken scene yet, for sure for sure for sure for sure.

3x11 ‘Adam’s Rib’ - The fact that my dad spontaneously quoted a line from this episode to me, and not even one I would have thought particularly memorable, should alone earn it a spot on any recommendation list. But I too still find myself recalling multiple moments from this one. 'Adam's Rib'—it's gotta be on here!

3x13 ‘Mad Dogs and Servicemen’ - Oh you know I’m here for an episode where in the first minutes Trapper is going, “Frank, that’s straight out of World War I, no one thinks ‘shellshock’ anymore!” Tragically we don’t actually get to see psychiatrist Sidney Freedman, their one-time comedic antagonist turned professional pal and poker buddy (I love this...so much), but I did send a plot synopsis to my own pal Jen, doctor of psychology and practicing therapist, for the psych eval, and her full report is pending but the abstract indicates that hey, Sid’s c. 1950s therapy for their phantom paralysis case (currently probably called a conversion disorder) might be a plausible approach! Remains to be seen if it would be strictly necessary for Hawkeye to have to role-play as Betsy Tough Love to this kid and feel chewed up about it, but it does make for good TV.

3x15 'Bombed' - Everyone’s emotions are running VERY high in this episode, which just straight up opens with the camp being bombed all to hell. With ‘O.R.’ and ‘Aid Station’ as well this season, this fellow dramatic one ended up just missing the first edition of this list, but it’s important to be able to admit when you were wrong. Margaret & Trapper trapped in the supply shed…the bombs are not the only thing shaking me.

3x17 ‘The Consultant’ - This episode rules so, so hard. Love a sneaky cautionary taaaale! Definitely a far finer crafted story than ‘Alcoholics Anonymous’, but we’re including both for their various other appealing elements. Such as, here: a sublimely absurd interlude to a British camp where everyone is like “..Quite,” heavy bombardment, a scene with the trio in incredible swimming get-ups for the water tank pool Henry has made, tensely breathtaking surgery, and just a steady course of Alan Alda being rampantly bisexual in front of, across, and at one point directly to his own real life father. You love to can't believe you're seeing it.

3x18 ‘House Arrest’ - This one is sheer chaos and with an ending I don’t care for much, but the primary plot is Hawkeye & Trapper have possibly never been more dating. Really some peak absurd & precious ne'er-do-well pair behavior, and I just can’t keep this one from you, not here, not now..(!) I also quite like the bit with Radar & Klinger, and ultimately Hawkeye, having a moment of critical self-reflection on his own teasing. Damn Frank storyline, get out of here! Just give us more of the gang watching the new Gene Tierney picture.

3x19 ‘Aid Station’ - Literally cheered at the end of a Margaret monologue in this, a stand-out even before she and Hawkeye and Klinger are in the midst of actual hell together at the front, and work so hard & desperately and get so dear. Not to bandy about the term mutual respect, but Hawkeye bandies about the term mutual respect. Haha, [softly] help. Meanwhile, Trapper & Radar :’) & Henry :’) Second of two episodes this season, both of which I have very much included, where Colonel Blake has to make the decision to send some of his people to the front where they very much might die, and his heart just won’t rest until they’re back, which is always *primo.* Henryyy..!

This episode is M*A*S*H being funny and harrowing and sincere and really, really aware of humor as a way to try to shore against the loss of people you care about all in 25 minutes, which is why, in probably an even more dramatic move than any episode I’ve skipped yet: this is my Season 3 finale for you. This does goodbyes in wartime best this season, goofy, glorious, gutting, the whole cocktail. The ingredients are there in ‘Check-up’ and ‘Abyssinia, Henry’, but they haven’t been balanced in the shaker by as steady a hand as the ones that crafted ‘Aid Station’.

And you’ll learn what happened in the actual season finale at the beginning of Season 4, and as you should: just a few careful sentences with a pit beneath them, and in a moment when the loss has gotten even ❤️ worse.

Season 1 • Season 2 • Season 3 • To be continued

#M*A*S*H hours

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

🐺 Being MSBY's Manager 🐺

MSBY Being Protective of Miss Manager

MSBY x Female Manager

Warnings: Swearing, Protective men

AN: This is part 2 of an anon request!

🌠 Please Like, Reblog and/or Share to help support my writing 🌠

I'm not sure how you manage YN

Literally this is essentially high paid babysitting

MSBY might be professionals but they are anything but professional

All of these boys are petty

First off, you are absolutely gorgeous 😍

Literally breathtaking 👏🏻 👏🏻 👏🏻

You walk into a room and all eyes go to you

But you are also an amazing manager!

Beyond capable and perfect for the job

You know how to encourage Bokuto

How to keep Hinata from hurting himself

How to keep Atsumu's ego in check

How to talk to Sakusa 🤣

Literally you are the teams go to lady!

Meian is so thankful you exist

Literally he is so exhausted 😩

Imagine dealing with Hinata, Bokuto AND Atsumu in one day 😅

My brains hurting just thinking about it

But never fear, we have YN 🙌🏻

Barnes and Tomas tease you relentlessly for your height

Even if you were their height, they'd still tease you

Barnes says your pocket sized 🥺

Besties with Libero Inunaki

Seriously I get the best vibes from all the Liberos

You two send memes and have all the inside jokes

The guys absolutely adore you YN

However 👀 there is one teeny tiny issue

They may, during certain situations be extremely... well protective 😬

Even Sakusa

You are THEIR Manager YN

So when the Schweiden Adlers come for a game 👀

Welp let's just say, things get... interesting

First off, team captain for the Adlers, Hirugami, immediately tries to recruit you to the Adlers

It does not go well...

Meian is there in .03 seconds 😅

"YN is he bothering you?"- Meian 😑

"Umm no..."- you 👀

Hirugami 👉🏻😏

After leaving that horribly awkward scenario, you wander over to the bench where you notice a certain someone has dropped his towel

You 👉🏻 "hey you dropped this Hoshiumi" 😊

Hoshiumi 👉🏻 "thanks YN! You are so sweet"

Hinata and Bokuto 👉🏻😳🤨 🏃‍♂️ 🏃‍♂️

"YN!! Come set for me!!"- Bokuto

"AND ME"👉🏻 Hinata

"Ummm ok... do you want to come Hoshiumi?"

Hoshiumi👉🏻 "I'd lo-"

"Shouldn't you be practicing with your own team and manager"- Bokuto 😤

"Oh wait you don't have a manager! Come on YN"- Hinata

Hinata will literally drag you away ✋️

Ok then 😐

After you manage to get the two idiots under control, you go to take your jacket off

No way it doesn't get hot in the gym with all the sweaty men

Que all the ogling at YN removing her jacket 🙄

Barnes is literally going to block anyone from seeing you in your t-shirt

Like you were just stripping in the middle of practice or something 🤦‍♀️

On your way back from filling up the water bottles, you accidently run into the back of the stoic tree known as Ushiwaka

He literally grabs you around the waist and stops you from falling over

🥵🥵🥵

"Be careful there YN!"

"Oh Ushijima, I'm so sorry"- you ☺️

Before you can even process that Ushiwaka is touching you, Sakusa is behind you

Just looming

Literally his eyes are like 😐😑

"You can let YN go Ushijima"- Sakusa

"I'm just making sure she's steady"- Ushijima

"She's fine"- Sakusa 😑

🌳 🐜 🌳

That's how you look right now, a freaking ant in a forest of trees

"Thanks Ushijima!"- you

Ushijima reluctantly let's you go 😅

Sakusa just glares as you walk away 🙃

Ok this is fun

These boys are all silently fighing over you and you have no clue 🤪

Must be rough YN

However the final tip of the scale occurs when Kageyama seeks you out and asks you to toss for him 😃

That act alone is so triggering for Atsumu

You are only allowed to toss for HIM

"I can toss for you Kageyama"- You 🥰

"Ok just stand over here"- Kageyama, grabbing your hips and situating you

Suddenly you are literally thrown over Atsumu's shoulders and hauled away

"Nope! No freaking way!"- Atsumu

"What the heck Atsumu? I was helping Kageyama!"- You, literally a sack of flour

Atsumu will caveman haul you to his side or the net and put you down before boring holes in Kageyama's head

Kageyama has no clue what just happened

He just wanted your help

You glare at Atsumu 😑

"I can toss for both of you!"- you, being extremely logical

🌠 No 🌠 - Atsumu

He puts you down ans then situates you where he wants you

He does it in a very dramatic way, touching you whenever possible just to make a point 🙄

He's essentially staking his claim

There is literally no reason for their behavior

There is more than enough YN to go around

That sounded so dirty 😅

Just give in YN, there is no reasoning with crazy 😜

[apompkwrites]

Hey, here's a different idea for your streamer au!

instead of reader being a carbon copy of the characters in canon universe, how about they are a bit different instead? Like for Xiao, instead of having the same voice lines and being the same edgy person, reader is quite a bit more friendlier (similar to beta Xiao I guess but still not as much) and gentle when interacting with his character. Or for Childe reader is a bit more like Venti though still similar enough. Just make them more of their own character while still maintaining the same position and in a way the characters would still be attracted to rather than a copy and paste if you get what I mean. If not then don't worry about it it's just an idea I had. Other than that I'd like to request Xiangling, Xinyan, Lisa and Ningguang for the au in general. Have a good day

reader impact || alternate persona (name)

series masterlist characters: albedo, childe, kaeya, scaramouche, xiao genre: fluff contains: essentially au (name) summary: what if our streamers' favorite characters were different than originally portrayed? how would they act? what role would they play? notes: i'm still trying to figure out how to write for the girls, but i do have requests for them! other than that, i really like the idea of (name) being their own character :0 i kept most of them in the same role with different personalities, but i'd be open to writing for any other ideas!!!

imagine albedo meeting the chief alchemist who was chaotic and more eccentric. instead of the aloof, soft-spoken alchemist, you would be chaos incarnate with exotic experiments.

the event that would feature you is... interesting, to say the least.

he's really interested to meet the famed chief alchemist he's heard so much of.

your assistant warned him of you.

so, that'll be fun :D

when he meets you for the first time, you're surrounded by a group of hilichurls!!!!

he's actually really worried for you :(

imagine his shock when you turn around and glare at him with a pout.

"hey! i was doing an experiment here!" you shouted, jumping up from the snow. "i was trying to see how the hilichurls would act around me if i used fake hilichural scents!"

you are going to be the death of him.

but he loves you and your weird experiments either way :))

imagine childe's favorite/comfort character being someone who absolutely hates fighting.

to his chat's shock, he finds himself loving you as a character.

you'd be introduced as a small-time shop owner that is settled in liyue.

most likely during the archon quest in which his character needs to go around in preparation for the rite of parting.

you'd be selling something he needed like flowers.

and he'd be in LOVE with your character as soon as he sees you.

"ah, hello!" you'd greet his character with a bright smile. you're surrounded by flowers he's seen scattered around yujing terrace.

"is there something i can do for you? i'd be happy to help!"

you're just so sweet and caring and he wants to protect you forever <3

imagine kaeya meeting the cavalry captain that is more reserved and nervous.

so stormterror comes flying above mondstadt, right?

he and the outrider are shocked, especially after the weird battle he had in the sky.

and a cutscene plays where he's being looked after and footsteps start walking towards him.

the camera pans up to you, showing your character fiddling with your fingers and nervously looking around the windy city.

"um... outrider! who's the outlander?" you ask, taking small steps towards the two.

he's quickly amused by your soft-spoken character.

all he wants is to tease you and see you blush and stammer your way out of the situation.

ONLY IF IT DOESN'T MAKE YOU TOO UNCOMFORTABLE!!!

"kaeya! this is (name), our cavalry captain."

he will still flirt with you relentlessly.

his artist/writer viewers have so much content now--

imagine scaramouche (surprisingly) loving the more caring and nurturing harbinger.

so the meeting goes as it usually does, with scaramouche really liking your design and stuff.

he's still disappointed he doesn't get to see you too often...

and then you reappear!! for a short amount of time but it's good enough!!!!!

"my my... i didn't get a chance to strike you down," you sighed once scaramouche's character disappears. "i was so close, too..."

(name): the sixth of the eleven fatui harbingers

oogh your voice is going to kill him.

"soldiers!" with your call, the fatui members he's had to fight appear behind you. "find them. and when you do--"

"if we may!" one of the soldiers suddenly shout, bowing their head. scaramouche expects you to snap at them. but instead...

"yes, my dear?" you walk over to the soldier and kneel to their height.

"it's happening again! in fact, it is the biggest we've seen so far!"

"i see... your objective remains the same."

"we will see that the mission is completed!"

"good, good. now off you go! report to me when an answer has been found!"

he... surprisingly likes how you care about your subordinates???

don't ask him, he doesn't know why either.

imagine xiao meeting a more expressive version of you, one who was bubbly yet very teasing and mischievous when you first appear.

"oh? what do we have here?" xiao's character quickly turned to the voice on the balcony. leaning against the railing was you with your elbows perched on them.

"what brings you here?"

he's not taken back by your teasing tone of voice and personality.

he's actually shocked at the fact that he likes it????

like he wants just hours upon hours of content filled with you talking to him.

he's actually very open about his sudden interest, too.

he'll talk to his chat about it so much to where any creators that watch him (writers, artists, etc.) will make the content he so desperately craves.

[midgardianweasley]

Keep you safe

Keep you safe

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Avenger!reader

Summary: When the civil war breaks out among the team, what happens when you find yourself and your girlfriend on opposite sides of the fight?

Warnings: Extremely minor cursing, angst, injury, ends in fluff

Word Count: 1.8k words

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

Requests are open!

“Vision, you can’t keep her prisoner here” I announced to what seemed like a brick wall. The S.H.I.E.L.D. meeting was only this morning and already it felt like the team was beginning to drift. Tony and Steve were fighting, not being able to agree on where they stand regarding the Sokovia Accords and whether we should sign our rights away. Wanda, not being a US citizen and having been a big part of the incident in Sokovia, has been put under Vision’s watch for protection. But from what i’ve seen, I think Wanda can protect herself just fine.

“It’s not imprisonment, Y/N, this is for her safety.”

“Safety? She’s fully capable of walking to the shops on her own.”

“I think some members of the team would disagree, Nata-”

“Don’t, Vision. Please.” I sighed, rubbing my forehead, the stress going straight to my temples upon remembering the events from this morning with my girlfriend.

Nat and I had just walked out of the meeting room, thoughts flooding both of our heads. We were exhausted, the emergency meeting not giving us enough time to wake up with a coffee before having to be fully functional. My head was resting on her shoulder, her head on top of mine as we stood in an abandoned corridor, revelling in the peace and quiet. It was a few minutes before one of us decided to speak up.

“You okay, голубка?” She whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head before returning to her previous position.

“Mhmm, I think so. My head is officially fried though and it’s not even 9am yet.”

“We’ll get some coffee in us soon.”

“I think we’ve earned it” I mumbled, earning a slight chuckle from the both of us, returning back to the silence for only a couple of minutes before a thought crossed my mind.

“I feel bad for Wanda. She must feel terrible.”

“I know. Hopefully this whole Accords business can be of help.”

“Well, that would be nice, but we’re obviously not signing that.” An airy laugh left my lips, amused at the idea of signing away any freedom we could have for ourselves. I felt Nat’s body go rigid beside me, suddenly feeling tense. I pulled away slightly and looked up to see a frown taking over her features.

“You’re not going to sign?” She spoke, suddenly sounding more awake, albeit still having a gentle tone, but I could feel the disbelief behind her words.

“I wasn’t planning on it, no. Are you?”

“I feel like it would be a good idea. Maybe we need a little more guidance to go about our missions.”

“This isn't guidance, Nat. This is essentially locking us away just without the bars.”

“It’s protection.”

“It’s losing our freedom!” I bluntly responded, almost shocked that we weren’t on the same page about this. We both stood across from each other now, arms crossed and staring into each other's eyes, all tiredness beforehand gone and replaced with fire.

“I need some air” She groaned, walking away towards the exit, signalling the end of that conversation.

“Nat-”

“I’ll see you at home, okay?” Not giving me a chance to respond, having walked out the door before I could utter a word. I guess coffee is the least of my problems now.

Lost in my daydream, I hadn’t even noticed that Clint had walked in and was currently fighting Vision. Wait, Clint?

“Clint? I thought you retired?”

“Ah nice to have you back.” He choked, currently caught in a headlock with Vision. I stood next to Wanda, the two of us sharing a look of confusion. “We need to go, Cap needs us.”

“You can’t overpower me, Clint.” Vision spoke, still holding his grip.

“I know i can’t, but she can”

I looked beside me once again and saw Wanda beginning to use her powers, and before I knew it, Vision had fallen to the ground..and further until we could no longer see him.

“We need to go” The archer rushed, taking Wanda by the hand and leading her outside. I was yet to be clued in on what exactly was going on, but I knew one thing, this couldn’t be good.

---

It was absolute chaos everywhere. Steve, much like Tony, had recruited a small team of his own, some familiar faces, some new, the ant guy was pretty cool. However, there hadn’t been much time to admire the different skill sets and powers that had been brought to the table before both sides had run towards each other. Especially considering seeing the recognisable assassin on the other side had brought on a wave of sickness, fighting her was the last thing I wanted to do.

While Bucky had taken to fighting who I assumed to be Blank Panther and Sam was in the air, I’d stuck to helping Steve, not wanting to get involved in the fight Clint was having with Natasha. This teenager had started shooting webs at Captain, and while I know he was on the opposite side, I had to admit, he was pretty good at fighting.

“He also said to go for your legs” He chuckled, again shooting webs at the supersoldier and holding him back from retrieving his shield.

“Hey Spidey” I called, gaining his attention.

“Hi”

“Might wanna drop the Captain, yeah?”

“I can’t. I gotta impress Mr Stark”

“Look, this isn’t your fight, you don’t know what’s going on” I tried to reason, falling onto deaf ears, or just stubborn, as he then shot his webs at me and tried to pull. His eyes shrunk in confusion as he couldn’t flip me, my power of immobility coming in handy.

“Why-” He groaned, still trying to flip me. I lifted my hands, grabbed the webs and flung him into one of the loading crates that were scattered around, my super strength making the impact a lot harsher, but not enough to cause major injury.

“Thanks Y/N” Steve spoke, a quick nod of approval was shared before I caught a glance of another fight going on. Wanda’s holding a crate, trying to take someone flying above it out, completely oblivious to Vision starting to come towards her. Looking down slightly, I saw who was directly underneath.

“Shit” I mumbled, running as fast as I could towards them, avoiding gunfire and punches along the way.

“Language!”

“Sorry! Jeez” I directed towards the man now running in a different direction.

Vision was much closer to them than I was, no matter how quickly my feet took me. It was no use trying to warn Wanda, I wouldn’t get there in time. I had to go with plan B.

“Nat! Move!”

She quickly turned and caught sight of me, giving me a confused glare that didn’t last long before I pushed her away from where she was standing, out of harm's way.

“What the hell Y/-” She hadn’t managed to finish her sentence before her eyes widened in horror at the large crate suddenly falling from Wanda’s hold and onto me. My arms lifted quickly to hold it, slightly wobbling due to not being in the centre of it.

“Is there anything behind me?”

“Wha-”

“Is there anything behind me?!” I spoke more urgently, not knowing how much longer I could hold it.

“No, no you’re clear.” Natasha responded, I thanked her silently with a nod.

‘Okay. you’ve got this. One. Two-’ I thought to myself.

With the remaining strength I could have gathered, I bent down slightly and pushed, sending the metal hurling upwards while I ran forward. Overestimating how high i’d thrown it, the bitter reality hit me, quite literally as it fell onto my leg, sending me face first towards the ground.

“Wanda!” Was all I could hear before I felt my head placed in someone’s lap and the world went black.

---

My head pounding like a hammer had been a lovely wake up call, followed by a throbbing pain in my leg which I'd looked down to see was lying along a row of pillows. My eyes darted around the room and I recognised the photo on the bedside table beside me. It was a photo of Natasha and I standing in the rain laughing at a joke we can’t remember anymore, but it must’ve been funny according to the huge smiles on our faces. The love in our eyes was enough to make galaxies jealous.

A knock on the door had interrupted my train of thought, opening before I had a chance to respond, Natasha walked in, a guilty look taking over her face.

“Hi”

“Hey. You okay?” I questioned, earning a smile and a scoff to come out of The Black Widow’s mouth.

“Am I okay? Really?”

“I-”

“You ask me if i’m okay when you’re lying there with a broken leg and just woken up from being knocked out, because you decided to throw yourself into danger.”

“You had a tonnes worth of metal about to fall on you. Forgive me if i didn’t want a squished girlfriend.” I defended myself, not entirely certain on how this is turning into being my fault.

“You could have died”

“But I didn’t”

“But you could’ve, Y/N!”

“Love-”

“I can’t lose you” Her voice broke. Only then had I managed to really take a look at her. Her eyes had clouded over, her hair was all over the place, her nose running slightly. A pang of guilt hit me, not knowing that my action had affected her so much.

“Can you come here? Please?” She hesitated, but soon made her way round to the other side of the bed and sat herself down, making herself comfortable in my arms that I held open for her, hands immediately going to run through her hair. Small sniffles could be heard in the otherwise silent room, each one having a kiss pressed against her head in response.

After a couple of minutes, the silence was broken again.

“I’m sorry, moya lyubov, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to keep you safe.”

She turned her head up slightly to look at me, a small smile playing on her lips

“I know. i just panicked. I want you to be safe too.”

“I’m okay. I’m here. I promise.” I kissed her head again. “How does a bath and a movie sound?” A small sigh left her lips at the suggestion.

“You’ll join?”

“I’ll join”

A small but passionate kiss was exchanged, followed by a few quick pecks before the redhead walked off towards our bathroom, the sound of running water filling the air not long after.

No matter the mission, the fight, the argument or the disagreements, we’ll always protect one another. We don’t need the Sokovia Accords for that.

taglist: @the-dumbass-that-throws-knives

[deluluass]

Then, the dam breaks.

Content warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; dacryphilia; mild infantilization

Kuroo's not a bad person. 

Not even by a long shot. "Bad" is willfully stretching out a leg, hidden like a predator among the bushes; hungry for an unknowing soul who's naively secured with their surroundings and the crack that resounds when face finally meets floor.

Or, murder! Murder is bad, he believes.  

No, Kuroo isn't capable of any of those things. He might seem like he has a mean streak about him. What, with his sharp tongue and that incorrigible self-satisfied smirk (according to Yaku) and his words that may or may not sting like a backhanded slap sometimes. But that's all in good humor. 

Well-deserved, too, when given to the right asshole. And if he does manage to get under the skin of the wrong person, Kuroo's not above offering an apology. 

And he means it. (Occasionally.)

There's no pleasure to be had, if anyone would ask. Because, again , he's not a bad guy. He's sly: he knows that much, though he wouldn't taunt someone into visible pain just for the thrill of it.

There's a method to all this. A purpose. Not a profound one, but a reason all the same. 

So he has to admit he's feeling kinda lost figuring out why, of all people, it just really had to be you. 

There wasn't much of an option to begin with.

Art clubs had already been full. The other ones, you weren't much interested in. And by the time you realized your homeroom teacher would stop at nothing to remind you that this year was your last chance to do something other than study and prepare for exams, for once— well, it had already been too late to reconsider joining those.

Then a flyer was handed out to you.

"V-volley," the boy trailed off. 

Try as you might but you couldn't recognize him. A feat, that, considering his blond mohawk that you could spot among a crowd of thousands. 

He seemed like he'd caught a nasty spell that prevented him from meeting anyone's eyes, even as you deliberately searched his face for any sign that he'd explain himself to you. Surely, he must have a lot to say after he'd outright ambushed you from entering the cafeteria. 

"You...want me to join?" 

You were on the verge of asking for more details, focusing on the black cat (though it didn't look like it) drawn on the center of the curiously damp paper, only to find out that you'd been conversing with an empty hallway. 

A soft grumble left you. 

"Weird," you concluded, barely a whisper. "Weird, weird, weird ."

You were the volleyball team's manager since then. 

"She's not much of a talker."

Lev hunched to his knees again, sounding very much like he's running out of breath.

It should've been Kuroo's cue to gently ( gently) tell him off, that Nekoma's ace would handle a minute of catching a ball with their face with much more tenacity than he does, or that Nekoma's ace shouldn't have to catch the ball with their face in the first place, period.

" Zoning out already, Ace? " he'd planned on jeering, but instead he followed the direction of the overgrown 10 year old's gaze. 

Someone was talking to you. 

Apologizing , was more like it, if the other student's incessant bowing until his torso fell from his body was any indication. You were outside of the gym, clipboard tucked under an arm, so it was impossible to catch a word you were saying.

Not that you were saying much. Or anything at all. You only nodded. And nodded again. And after what seemed like the world's loudest "I'm so sorry, senpai!",you immediately went back inside to refill the water bottles lined atop the bench. 

"Hey," Kenma sighed, the ball in his hand aimed for a toss. "Focus."

And the cycle of Lev being an utter disappointment to the blond setter continued. 

Kuroo let out a noncommittal hum, eyes never leaving you, trailing like a lost pup as you handed out water bottles to Nobuyuki and the others. 

"Not a talker, huh," he muttered to himself. 

How long has it been? Two weeks? Three, maybe? Kuroo could scarcely remember for how many days you'd been showing up to this sweaty pit to perform your duties. On the dot. Always. Without fail. 

What he does remember was the first day.

Chin up; head held high. You strutted into their lives as if you were leading an entire militia to battle and had no time to waste.  

He teased you for it when you'd already busied yourself with clean up duty a few minutes after your (short) ( extremely concise) introduction.

("Slow down there, general," he told you with a wry chuckle. He expected any reaction from you, really.)

(He just didn't expect you to actually slow down on your cleaning and pick up on the Coach's remaining paperwork right then and there, going through it like a forest fire.)

It would take him a few more days to realize that that's just how you are. 

Even when you rejected a tongue-tied Yamamoto when he tried to ask you out. For a meal. With the other boys, of course.

Even when you took a hurtling ball to your leg and lost your footing and had the whole team scrambling for a stretcher, only for you to stand on your good leg, tell everyone "I'm okay," and walk to the nurse's office on your own.

(Kuroo doesn't think he's seen someone limp with so much grace before.)

His throat suddenly felt incredibly dry. 

Water . Water was what he needed. 

Right. 

You didn't see him coming from across the court. You were sitting on the bench and your back was turned, scribbling on that clipboard propped on your lap, yet— like clockwork, your idle hand shot out to give him the last bottle to your left before he could even finish asking for one.

He felt his lips curve as he muttered his thanks around the lid.

"Say," Kuroo began.  

You were reading the things you wrote back to yourself. 

"Mind telling me what was that about?"

You paused. You blinked up at Kuroo. 

The attention hits him like a freight train. 

That clear as summer sky gaze, unclouded and bright. 

It's nuts how unreal it felt. How can something so elusive be now all on him. 

(Just for him.)

"Earlier," he added, licking his lips and feeling silly for the way his chest tightened. "Seemed kinda intense."

"He borrowed my notes," you said. Then back to the clipboard again. 

Kuroo made himself comfortable next to you, elbow propped on his knee as he rested his chin against an open palm.

"Got a test coming up?"

"Cram school. He's in the same class."

Of course .

"Of course," Kuroo grinned. "What happened? Heard the guy apologize to you like you were about to kill him."

Laughter bubbled out of his chest. Unfortunately, you didn't seem to find it as funny as he did. Pity. 

He sighed.

"Nothing too bad, I hope."  

The noise of ballpoint pen scratching against paper halted. 

From way at the back, Lev was prattling Kenma's ear off again. Kuroo guessed they were about to leave, walking away from the court, away from the gym and to god knows where. The whole team, too, for that matter.

Everyone seemed to have gone, diminished in that second. He couldn't hear them anymore, didn't bother to see if they're still there.

He was looking at you, after all. Really looking at you. Your grip on the pen was a tad severe, he thought; fingers determined to squeeze the ink out of the barrel. 

Your face betrayed nothing. Indeed, anyone could spare you a glance and immediately guess that this is just another empty chat between acquainted individuals, conversation just for the sake of it. 

Kuroo wasn't just anyone, though.

Chin up and head held high; as you'd always done. But Kuroo's close enough to see it now, unlike before: the gulps you take in between breaths; the falter in those eyes that only ever looked forward.

Chin up and head held high, but Kuroo sees now that the neck he could easily break with one hand is so tense it's essentially a string pulled too tight that's on the brink of snapping. 

Oh.

"Oh," Kuroo whispered.

Oh .

"He lost it didn't he?" Kuroo realized. "Your notes."

And it did snap.

"Just..!" You looked down and bunched your pants in your fist. "No. Of course not. It's nothing," you huffed, putting the ball pen's cap back on. 

You were leaving.

Kuroo stood up.

"You look upset, manager-san," he said softly, his larger frame blocking your attempts of escape. "It is bothering you, hm?"

"My notebook got-got ruined, sure," you said. "But juice stains aren't bothering me, Captain ."

There it is. You were meeting his gaze again. 

" Too late for that ," Kuroo thought. There's a stutter to your words when there had been none. 

Your arms are trembling and you look  uncomfortable. He should stop. He knows he should stop , but whatever it is he said is chipping away at that impenetrable wall and he doesn't get what's happening now but damn, damn if that tingle running down his spine doesn't feel so fucking good. 

"My bad," he chuckled. "Sorry."

He raised both his arms in a show of defeat. 

"I'm- it's fine," you said through gritted teeth. "If you would just— excuse me."

Kuroo shrugged a shoulder. 

"Sorry about your notes, still," he said. "Must've been important to you. We all know how much you take your studies very, very seriously." 

Kuroo smirked. "You shouldn't have let him have it then." 

That made you stop in your tracks. 

"What do you mean?" you sought, confusion breaking your voice into what sounds like the smallest it's ever been.

Kuroo felt his breath catch in his throat.

"He needed my help, though," you rushed. "I can't just turn people away." 

"Really?" Kuroo sniggered, eyebrows lifting in fascination. 

"Could've sworn you were good at it," he said; whispered it so lowly, you couldn't have heard it. But you did.

You heard him, all right. Loud and clear.

Because it was just like watching someone take a bullet to the heart. 

First, the disbelief. 

Skin, muscles, and ligaments weren't made to be broken like that. A person wasn't created to bleed to death. And when it happens, well, all one can ask is: how could someone hurt me like this? 

So you stand before him, immobile, disbelief written in those wide eyes, because how could he hurt me like this?

Then—

Then, the dam breaks.

Kuroo doesn't think that you know it; that you're gaping at him with tears streaming down your face; that you're falling apart and stripping yourself bare the more you try to temper those quivering lips with that cute little nibbling you do.  

Kuroo doesn't think you know it, too.

That no one has ever been as beautiful as you are, right in that very moment.

You're not a good person.

Not even by a long shot. "Good" is an open hand, warm and soft and prepared to accept anyone in need of it. It's many things, goodness, but it most certainly isn't a dismissive attitude towards a well-meaning person who only wants to get to know you.

You hadn't gone this far in your uneventful life ignorant of what people say behind your back. "Frigid" is one. "Indifferent" on a good day. "Bitch" when someone feels like being mean. 

It's not like you're mad or anything; not as if you'd built up some sort of resentment within you that now you've settled for being perpetually friendless. You have plans, is all. You just can't afford to be a constant helping hand when you've got so much to do.

So you take it. 

Be a sport about it, was what you've always been told. Stiff upper lip, as they say. You remain silent about it and you endure and maybe you shed a few tears later as you lie in bed and maybe you entertain the possibility that you'll never see the end of this loneliness. 

But that's neither here nor there.

The point is, this time shouldn't have been any different.

(But sometimes even the strongest walls can crumble. All it takes is one crack, then the rest would follow.)

It was a bad day. 

You woke up late. You messed up the tally in the first set of practice games. You forgot the homework you'd stayed up all night to do. 

And the person whom you've lended your notes to for the college entrance exams lost it. 

He lost it. Conveniently just a month before the actual thing. 

"I- It's nowhere to be found, senpai," he explained. "I tried looking for it everywhere but- but I.." (You don't remember the rest.)

It's fine, you told yourself. You're fine. You can do something about a little inconvenience like this. You always have.

But then Kuroo Tetsurou asked. 

He's an amazing captain; even someone like you who only had a rudimentary knowledge at volleyball could understand the level of skill it requires to do what he does on the court while still managing to reign in the polarizing characters in this team together. And like most people, Kuroo Tetsurou has never cared for you. 

That's what you'd always thought, concerning him. Even when there had been times when he'd let slip what he thought about you. ("You're so cold, manager-san," he pouted once after you'd refused to eat with Yamamoto and the others.)

So it blindsided you, to say the least. 

The way he looked at you, as if he's privy to your darkest secrets, like he's seen you at your lowest and somehow knows you more than you did. 

When he'd jabbed and poked at what you'd only later realize was already a festering wound. (" It is bothering you, hm?" he said.) And before you could think about telling him to stop, to please, please let it go, it had already happened.

(" Could've sworn you were good at it ," he said.) 

This isn't news to you. Besides, there have obviously been worse digs. 

But hearing it from people who think you're not listening and being told about it to your face are two vastly different things. 

(Maybe it's because deep inside you'd always hoped that not everyone disliked you. That even though you're not a good person, you're not entirely bad either.)

Right in front of you, swift and without warning, he spoke only the truth.

You just weren't prepared for how deep it could cut. 

"I have to go," you murmured.

It took you a few seconds to realize that you'd been crying. And when you did, you immediately wiped your cheek with the back of your hand, turning away from him and the others still engrossed in their drills.

You let your feet do the thinking, allowing it to take you wherever they wished to go ( not here. not here. anywhere but here ), finding it impossible to do so yourself when your vision is clouded with welling tears. 

You moved forward, never once looked back, until you ended up inside the stark darkness of the gym's forgotten neighbor. 

The shed has long been abandoned and had nothing but dust, a couple of furniture in disrepair, and the occasional bug to keep it company. It was good enough for you. You didn't need much anyway.

Except for silence. 

The breaths that you'd desperately tried to control shook like dried leaves hanging onto frail branches, much like your legs, eventually collapsing at the slightest gust of wind. 

All you needed was silence.

Crouched down, the feeling of bones reduced to jelly was a lot more palpable. And despite the pins and needles that you know would eventually appear like a vengeful mistress, you stubbornly pressed your knees closer to your damp face.

Stuttering inhales and short-lived exhales  soon enough filled the gnawing emptiness of the shed as you count back to the moment you'd started the day to when your classmate told you that he'd lost your notebook to when you'd been told of how much of a shitty person you are and you wonder how you would've changed your decisions and how could it have gotten to this point how could it go wrong like this what did I do what did I do wrong what went —

"There you are."

You clamped your mouth shut, clenched your teeth so hard to stop their chattering. How useless. 

The creaking noise of the door being closed— punctuated by the sound of the latch clicking, rendered that effort futile. 

Kuroo Tetsurou locked the door.   

"C-can you," you panted. "Can you please leave."

"I need some time alone," you said, every beat of your heart like the ticking clock of a time bomb. "Please." 

You waited for him to do as you'd told. Maybe what happened earlier was a mistake, a slip of tongue that hurt more than it should've, and he's here to apologize. Of course. That's it, isn't it? Why else would he be here?

"I- If you want to say something, we can- we can— later." 

It was as if the entire world had gone still. He said nothing; neither could you hear any hint of movement. You turned around.

"C-captain..!"

He was right there. 

Right in front of you, crouched and staring right back at you. His face a hair's breadth away from yours. 

Your legs shot upwards. 

"What are you- ah !" You hissed, feeling every cell in your body being incessantly pricked. Finding it impossible to stand on your own, your hands scrambled to get a hold of something, anything, maybe the almost dilapidated table behind you— only to be caught in between large, strong arms.

"Careful, now," he murmured against your neck. His scalding breath like frostbite, chilling you down to your bones until you were numbed from the pain.

He slithered a hand around your waist. With blood thundering to your ears, you bit back a shriek and pushed him away with all your might. But have you forgotten? Despite that indolent swagger of his, you've witnessed how this boy pushes himself to exertion for each match and beyond. What made you think you could win against him? 

And when you attempted to open your mouth and yell, he effortlessly covered it with a palm while hauling you towards the table. The thing rocked under your weight. It is amusing, what the fear of falling does to you. One moment you're thrashing your way out; the next, you're holding onto your tormentor for dear life.

"No one's gonna come for you." He shushed you like how one would when placating a rabid animal. "You really believe they would bother? With an attitude like that?"

Down, down, his hand sank to your thigh, kneading the aching flesh until all you could do was mewl out a hoarse, "S-stop. I beg y-you."

Because it's all that's left for you. No one's going to save you. Or maybe someone would. But, who? And would they, really? 

(Go on, then. Try. See for yourself.)

"Kuroo-san," you whimpered. " S-stop ."

(Would they even believe you? It's your word against his. Him . Their beloved captain.)

"Tetsurou," he only said, dipping his hand lower, wrapping your freezing legs around him. "Say it."

He's everywhere. Lips tracing your chin, teeth grazing your throat; all the while your weak, pathetic arms stayed on his shoulders, thinking he'd regain his senses because he has to. He has to. He's not a bad person. He wouldn't hurt you, not in that way. 

Even when rough palms are already caressing the sides of your breasts and you feel a bulge rutting against your stomach, hot and rock hard and large, his hands grabbing your ass to bring your crotch closer to his—

"Cap- Tetsurou!" You cried, trembling hands back on his chest as you sobbed and pleaded please, please, let me go, I won't say anything, I-I'll keep quiet .

He did stop. But he didn't let you go. (You're a stupid girl if you think he would). Instead, with a forefinger under your chin and a thumb on your lower lip, he gently tilted your head to meet his gaze. 

And when your murky vision adjusted to the shadows, the heart that wanted to escape from your chest ceased its clamoring, arresting your breath with it.

The afternoon sun peeked through the crevices of the shed's wooden walls. Red-orange light revealed a pair of iris swallowed by blown pupils, only for it to pass and shroud him back into the darkness. 

"Say it again," he whispered, deep voice cracking. " Tetsurou . My name."

You tried to speak and protest once again but only a croaked snivel left you, your babbling becoming less coherent when he began planting soft kisses on both tear-streaked cheeks. 

"You've been all alone, haven't you? Keeping everything to yourself all this time."

He kissed your forehead and it was so tender you wanted to die. 

"My strong, brave girl," he breathed. "I'll take care of you. I'll take care of you. I- I-"

You heard him chuckle as he pressed his forehead to yours, felt it crease on your skin. "I love you."

No. No, no, no . You shook your head and closed your eyes and prayed to anyone who's listening. 

"I love you," he repeated, strongly now, as if he only realized it this time around. 

And then he kissed you. Just a peck. And then he kissed you again, deepening it to probe a wet tongue into your mouth. And the hand sitting lax on your neck felt like a gun to your temple.   

You remained just as you were, like a plaything to do with as he pleased, as you felt calloused fingers creep inside your sweaty shirt.

"Such pretty tits," he grunted as he raised your bra over your breasts to brush your nipples, rolling and pinching and pulling them with his thumbs.

He muffled the noises you made with his own mouth still when he continued fondling you. You soon enough tasted the salt off of his palm when he left your lips to lick and pepper bites on your neck, on the valley and mounds of your breasts, sucking and lapping the stiff peaks until he was satisfied.

You tried counting, one to whatever. And when that did not work, you tried biting your own tongue to rid of the heat you fear would burst in your belly. 

All that went to waste when he reached inside your pants. 

"Not- not there!" you gasped, breaking your silence and wriggling out of his grasp.

He cooed. "You'll feel good. I promise."

After hooking long fingers over the hem of your panties, he briskly parted the hair and lips underneath to pull the thin cotton over the folds, over the throbbing nub trapped in the middle. 

"Your pussy's so wet, sweetheart," he sighed, the tip of his middle finger drawing light circles on your clothed clit. 

It was so lewd and dirty and the fact that your panties were soaked with slick was enough to burn you with shame.

"You like it, hm?" 

Perhaps you whimpered out a meek "no." You couldn't tell anymore, heaving out while he continued to toy with a sore nipple as he rubbed your slippery cunt, preying on your puffed out, swollen clit.  

"Feel what you do to me." He squeezed your wrist and forced your shivering hand on his crotch. "Take out my cock, baby," he whispered, scattering kisses on your neck.

"Tet-Tetsuro…san," you cried. "I can- I can't."

"Yes. Yes, you can ," he said, not halting the ministrations between your legs. "You're a big girl."

As if held by a string, he guided you, wrapped his hand around yours as he— as you stroked him, scorching and thick, up and down, just like that . 

"Good girl. My good little girl," he groaned, parting your panties to the side to tease your dripping hole. 

You wept harder, the inevitable only a few seconds away from you. A single finger, at first. And when he added a second one, you realized you preferred having a hand on your mouth than his lips on yours.

(Because then you wouldn't have to think of an excuse why you're suddenly swirling and brushing your tongue in time with his.) 

For a while there had been nothing but the sound of two wet lips pursing against each other (along with those embarrassing squelching noises). 

He treated you as if you were made of porcelain, your plush walls stroked oh so gently as he circled the sensitive bundle of nerves. Even when he ended the kiss and removed your hand from his cock, spit and pre-cum connecting you to him, he still handled you as if you would break at the drop of a hat.

That's why it snuck up on you, what happened, after he brought his mouth to your ear.

"Don't scream," he whispered. 

Then, he rammed his fingers in your mouth. 

You tasted yourself as he forced you on your back, slamming you down on the dirty table yet still carrying your weight all throughout, never letting go.

The bitter acceptance of it— that what began earlier can only conclude to this , did not prepare you for the feeling when he finally thrust himself into you.

They say it shouldn't hurt at first. If it does then he's doing it wrong. 

You hardly know if it's relief or horror that dawns on you when you realize how he stretched you out so easily, despite his size. Because, by all means, this should be wrong. This is wrong. 

"Gonna ruin you," he panted. "Gonna ruin you and— fuck put you back together myself."

He grinded his cock inside you deep and slow and when he hit that spot you couldn't control yourself from jackknifing so hard he had to hold you down. He does this mercilessly, pace growing more delirious until you're nothing but a choked and sputtering fool around his fingers.

"I won't ever leave you. I’m here," he cooed, stroking your hair and kissing your face as you bawled and shattered in his embrace. "I’m here ."

"So cry all you want."

[just-dreaming-marvel]

My Superhero

MAIN MASTERLIST

Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 1,500ish

Summary: You and Steve’s relationship is fairly new, so you haven’t told him everything yet.

Notes: I did a Tony Stark one about chronic illness called Invisible Pain. I wanted to do a Steve Rogers one as well.

Feeling completely well on any given day was a luxury. It never really mattered what medicine, diet, or amount of essential oil you put on, your joints hurt. End of story. Of course, it wasn’t completely random. You had Rheumatoid Arthritis, so there was a reason for it. You just sometimes wished that your arthritis was located in specific joints instead of all of them.

You were currently in your apartment getting ready for your fifth date with none other than Captain America’s, Steve Rogers. He was suppose to pick you up in a little more than an hour and, yet, you still couldn’t get out of your pj’s to shower. Your shoulders were causing you excruciating pain. Trying to take your shirt off was bringing you to tears, each try more unsuccessful than the next. 

You were at a loss of what to do. You had yet to inform Steve about your chronic illness due to past experiences. Every other man you had dated, or tried to, quickly left you in the dust after finding out that you would forever be sick and that it would slowly get worse with age. So you had told yourself that you would tell Steve once you were official, even though there was still a chance of heartbreak even then. You just wanted to enjoy this while it lasted.

Steve was so sweet, kind, and gentle towards you. You two had met after he accidentally walked into you about two months ago on the side walk. This was only your five date in that span of time due to the missions he was constantly being called on. Though, the two of you texted or talked on the phone whenever you could.

You were currently sitting on the edge of your bed, staring at the typed up message just waiting to be sent. At this point, canceling the date was your only option. You couldn’t change and you had already maxed out on drugs for the night. You sighed, a tear strolling down your cheek, as you pressed sent.

You: Hey, Steve :) I’m so sorry to do this to you at such late of notice, but something’s come up and I won’t be able to make it today. Sorry :( Can we reschedule?

It didn’t take long for Steve to respond.

Steve: hey doll :) is everything okay? 

You: Yeah, I’m just not feeling the greatest. But I’ll be fine after some much needed rest. How does next Friday sound?

Steve: Next Friday sounds wonderful. But are you sure you’re okay? Do you need anything? I could come over and we could stay in for the night. Order food and watch one of the movies I’ve yet to catch up on.

This man was too good to you. Almost too perfect. But you were too scared. You didn’t want to lose him just yet. You were enjoying it too much to be hurt already.

You: I’ll be fine, Steve. I just need some rest. You should probably get some too. I’ll talk to you later.

He didn’t respond. You sighed, laying back on your bed, tensing at the pain in your joints. You closed your eyes, trying to will your pain away, to no avail. Apparently, you had slightly fallen asleep because when a few knocks sounded at your door, you jumped up. Immediately regretting it because of the pain that shot through your joints.

Confused, dazed, and in pain, you shuffled over to the door. You didn’t even bother checking the peep hole before opening the door. Your jaw practically dropped to the floor at the sight in front of you. There was Steve, standing there in sweatpants and sweat shirt, your favorite flowers in one hand and two boxes of pizza in the other.

“Steve?” You questioned quietly, willingly yourself to stay put instead of run away embarrassed. You knew you didn’t look your best. “What—what are you doing here?”

“I came to check on you,” he responded with a gentle smile. “Can’t have my best girl feeling unwell now, can I?”

“Steve,” you shook your head, “you really didn’t—“

“Of course I did. Now, are you going to let me in or do I have to let myself in?”

Biting your lip, you opened the door wider, letting him walk in. Steve went straight to the kitchen, setting the pizzas down on the counter. 

“Do you have a vase?” He asked, looking around. “For the flowers?”

“Under the sink,” you responded. “Um… I’m going to change.” You pointed over your shoulder, immediately regretting it and grimacing.

“Y/N, is something wrong?” His concerned eyes raked over you.

“No, nothings wrong. I just need to change. I-I haven’t gotten out of these all day.”

The look in his blue eyes told you all you needed to know, he didn’t believe you. You turned around as quickly as you could. You could feel his eyes following you as you disappeared into your room. You slowly pulled down your pj pants, holding in a cry as you did. Pulling up clean sweats was easier, thankfully. It was the new shirt, you knew would be the killer.

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed the hem of your shirt and tried to pull it over your head. Failing to conceal the whimpered cry that left your lips, you heard Steve’s quick footsteps stop at your door.

“Y/N?” He called outside the door. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you responded, clearly your throat. “I’m fi-fine.”

“Are you sure? Do… do you, uh, need help?”

“No! I’ll be right out.”

Steve didn’t move from his spot outside your bedroom door. In fact, he leaned in, pressing his ear to the door. He could hear you breathing deeply, like you were trying to calm down. Which concerned him. You had told him that you hadn’t been feeling well, but you looked like you were fine. So what was going on? He waited, keeping quiet at your door. 

Inside, you were still trying to get your shirt off. You were riding it up, but you couldn’t get it past your breasts. You let out a louder cry, finally breaking. Steve couldn’t wait any longer, he came in to see you in tears on your bed.

“Oh, doll,” he cooed, heart breaking at the sight of you. He rushed over and sat beside you on the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m… I’m so sorry, St-steve,” you cried. “I didn’t want you to find out like this… honestly, I hoped you would never find out.”

“Find out about what?” 

He went to put an arm around you, to pull you into him. But when he put his hand on your shoulder, you winced and let out a small whine. His hand quickly was off your shoulder and the furrow between his brows increased.

“Y/N? What’s going on?”

“I… I… I’m sick.”

“Like, with the flu? Or… or worse?”

“I guess, you could say, something in between.” You looked at Steve to see him intently listening. “I… I have arthritis. Rheumatoid Arthritis. It’s where, well… my body is attacking its own tissue and joints. Even… even my internal organs. As I age, it will slowly get worse. Possible bone erosion and joint deformity… It’s painful, but I’ve been able to manage it. I still have good days and bad. Today… today’s—“

“A bad day. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because all the other guys I’ve dated have left me after finding out. I… I like what we have. And I don’t want to lose it. But… but I’ll understand if this is too much for you.” You looked down at the hands resting in your lap. “It is for everyone else.”

“Y/N… can you look at me, doll?” He carefully guided your head back up. “I am so extremely sorry that others have been so stupid. They obviously don’t know what they’re missing out on. And I guess that makes me lucky, cause now I get to know you and get to fall in love with you.”

“You’re… you’re falling in love with me?”

Steve nodded. “Yes. And I would like the opportunity to keep doing so, if you’ll have me?”

“Of course. Will you… will— you still want to date me?”

“The fact that you go through life every day, trying your hardest and pushing yourself, even though you don’t have to. That only makes me fall more in love with you.” He gently cupped your cheek. “You’re a real superhero.”

You giggled. “No, I’m just—“

“My superhero. You’re my superhero.” He pressed a short kiss to your lips. “Thank you,” he whispered, “for telling me. Please know that you don’t have to hide from me. I really don’t want you to. I want to help you in any way I can.”

“Thank you, Steve.” 

He gave you another kiss. “Now, how about we eat the probably cold pizza and watch anything you want?”

“I’d like that.”

I have Rheumatoid Arthritis, but I would like to remind people that everyone who has it suffers from it differently. This story is based off of my own personal pain and struggles. I go through most days pushing through the pain that is constantly there without most people realizing. And I know that I’m not the only one.

Remember, everyone is going through unseen challenges. Please be kind to everyone you interact with/come across. 

Comments, likes, reblogs, and asks are always welcome!

[spencerreidsmiles]

A Little Clumsy

Written by: spencerreidsmiles

Hello hello, my lovelies! I have once again been absolutely grinding at school (and now work too woohoo) so I have had like zero motivation to write but I finally finished one of my anon requests!

They requested prompts 7, 28, and 42 off the General list on this here prompt list! Those will be bolded throughout the story.  

Short summary - It’s the first day of work at the BAU for the reader but when their clumsiness gets the better of them, Spencer Reid is there to save the day. 

Trigger Warnings - blood (like the whole thing is about blood so if blood is a trigger for you, seriously do not read this one), minor injury, strong language, embarrassment

Word Count - 1386

MASTERLIST // WATTPAD VERSION

Sometimes you were clumsy. Okay, perhaps that was a bit of an understatement. You were more often than not clumsy. So when you began your first day at the BAU walking right into a wall and collapsing onto your ass, thus spilling coffee all over yourself, you weren’t surprised, to say the least. Frustrated, yes, but surprised, no. 

However, that sentiment wasn’t exactly shared by everyone, it appeared. In your dizzy haze, you felt a thud as someone knelt down next to you. 

“Is that blood?” the stranger asked. 

You touched your nose with your fingers, red decorating your fingertips. Whoever was talking to you was right, there was blood. Your white shirt, now a light shade of brown-ish beige, was sticky against your chest. Blood and coffee all over your new clothes on your first day of work? How could it go any better? 

To be honest, you weren’t really concerned about the blood right now. This whole scenario had happened enough times that this was essentially a regular occurrence for you. Instead, you were more concerned about the fact that this was the impression you were going to be making on all your colleagues. What were you supposed to do, just walk into the meeting room absolutely drenched in the last bit of your latte and blood and just act normal and introduce yourself? Yeah, because nothing screamed “qualified special agent” like a klutz banging their head into a literal wall. Surely whoever hired you was regretting their decision now. If you were them, you would. 

You had to save your pride somehow. The least you could do would be to find a bathroom and try to clean yourself up as much as possible before meeting your coworkers. 

But first, you had to deal with whoever had watched you slam your head into the wall. 

“Yes, but that doesn’t matter right now, what does matter is-” you said, sighing. 

“You are literally bleeding,” he stated again. 

You pushed your arms back, propping you up and allowing you the opportunity to take a good look at him. 

Even in your dazed state, you could tell that he was attractive. He was tall, first of all. He towered over you, his brown curls fell over his face as stared at you, clearly concerned. And his eyes. Jesus, his eyes. You could melt into them. 

No. No, stop it. You thought to yourself. This was not the time to be crushing on whoever the hell literally watched you walk into a wall. There were more important things at hand unfortunately. 

“Well thank you, Captain Obvious,” you said bitingly. The pain was beginning to hit you a bit more. You hadn’t thought you’d broken your nose...but the steady swelling was beginning to change your mind. 

“It’s Doctor, actually,” he responded with complete seriousness as he stared even more intently at your nose. 

“Sorry?”

His eyes flickered from your nose, meeting your gaze. 

“It’s Doctor. Doctor Spencer Reid.” 

Shit. You knew that name. Dr. Reid. One of your new coworkers, of course. As if this day couldn’t get any worse. 

“Doctor Obvious then. Wouldn’t want you to lose your credentials.” Dr. Reid didn’t seem to be affected at all by your little joke. You shot him a weak grin, which he did not return. Great. Everything was going great. Clearly. 

“What’s your name again?” he asked. 

“Dr. Reid, are you flirting with me?” you teased. As if anyone could think you look pretty in this mess of brown and red. 

“No! No, of course not. I just want to know so when I submit an injury report, I can have a name to put down.” An injury report? Oh hell no. You were already going to be known as the newbie who walked into a wall and maybe broke their nose, you didn’t need to be known as the newbie who walked into a wall, possibly broke their nose, AND had to have their new coworker fill out an injury report on their first day. 

“Pssh, they don’t need to know. It’s just a little blood and a little bruise. No big deal. I’m completely fine.”

You waved your hand about, swatting him off. It was nothing, just a bad nosebleed basically. A bad nosebleed with a side of a headache that was really starting to ramp up and throb incessantly. Gosh, you really just slammed right into that wall, didn’t you?

Nonetheless, you persisted. You popped up onto your feet as Dr. Reid stood up as well with a horrified look on his face.  

“You hit your head pretty hard, I’m not sure that’s the best idea-” Dr. Reid stammered. 

He was right, again. Standing up this fast was a bit too much, it appeared. Almost immediately, you completely lost all your balance. Your head spun as you fell, of course, right into Dr. Reid’s arms, effectively burying your nose right into his sweater. Apparently the day could get worse.

As you just stayed there, both of you completely frozen in place and completely unaware as to what to do next, you took a deep breath. 

“Okay, so maybe you were right,” you admitted. 

For a second that felt more like a minute at least, it was dead silent. Well, if you hadn’t made a bad impression on Dr. Reid yet, surely this was the final straw. You had calculated an about 100% chance of Dr. Reid running off to tell your boss that they had truly made the worst mistake in hiring you. The ideal first day, really. 

Slowly, Dr. Reid propped you back on your feet. You were still a bit woozy and your nose was throbbing fairly bad, so you clutched onto him for a second to settle yourself down. His arms wrapped around your back, holding you tight.  

It was only after you pulled yourself away that you realized just how much of a mess you had made out of Dr. Reid’s sweater. Right where you had buried your face was now a giant splotch of red from your nose. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you apologized. You tried wiping off whatever schmutz you could off his clothes with your own sleeves, but you only smeared it further and further in. God, you were just an absolute mess, weren’t you? Good grief. 

But instead of glaring at you, you saw the kindest eyes crinkling with laughter. Like the sunlight breaking through clouds, you heard Dr. Reid’s laugh ring out loud and clear. The sound itself warmed your heart God, if he was handsome before, then what was he now? Whatever he was, it was safe enough to say, you were absolutely head over-fucking-heels for your savior. 

“I’ll be honest, I was waiting for a reason to get rid of this sweater. So thank you for giving me a reason to.” He glanced down at the splotch before looking back at your worried face. “Don’t feel bad, things like this happen.”

“You’ve had someone run into a wall and bleed onto your shirt before?” you asked with a heavy emphasis on your incredulity. 

His cheeks and ears brightened a light pink shade. “Well not exactly, but we’re all a little clumsy sometimes.”

You checked your watch. Almost nine, aka almost time for you to meet the team and officially start your first day of work. Starting a new job just like this. Wow. You were so screwed. 

Either you had the world’s worst poker face or Dr. Reid was just really good at his job, but immediately after watching you check your watch, his shyness faded away and his voice softened as he spoke.  

“Hey, how about you go home and get cleaned up and I’ll tell the team you’ll be a little late.”

“Are you sure? What if they ask about…” You gestured around vaguely at his shirt. 

He shrugged. “I’ll just tell them you made a strong first impression.”

You let out a relieved laugh. “That’s one way to put it,” you said. “Thank you.”

As you began to walk to the elevator, you thought about Dr. Reid and his kindness and eventually came to the conclusion that perhaps this first day wasn’t as bad as you thought it was. That he was right, everyone was a little clumsy sometimes. And that was okay.

TAG LIST - @reiding-and-writing @twelveyearoldchildprodigy @philsreidingglasses @marshmellow-mouse  @huntynut-queerios  @sierra—king  @thnksfrbuckybarnes  @hope-hopr @rosyreid @scbcar @ultrarebelheart @headshotsandcanons @lyrasilverroseelizabethamanti @heyitskatrina @mainstreamqueen @prettyrickyreid @theresnothingformehere @donuts1324 @lookingforgalifrey @doyouheardeansing @stunudo @captainreid @little-pan-trash-can @the-one-and-onlyqueenasf @the-and-sign-anon @princesswagger17 @spoonsandthings14 @nerdyfandom20 @spencerreidsbitch @irjuejjsaa @philspinkyfinger @peter-parker-steve-bucky @biscottibitch @bucky-smiles @youngmalfunctionarts @spacedustdoll @shotarosleftpinky @jjwrites @rosyreid-blog @essayzine-blog @spencerreid9 @madsgraygubler @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence​ 

[ynscrazylife]

Hey I was wondering if you can do a Bucky x reader

The reader has powers like Wanda but stronger but can you make them also gender neutral if that’s okay. Im not looking for anything specific for the plot but can u put some angst and fluff.

Sure!

Fighting A Losing Battle

Summary: S.W.O.R.D. has called Y/N in to stop Wanda Maximoff and their boyfriend Bucky insists on accompanying them.

Since gender neutral was requested, I won’t write this with any specific gender and you can imagine it to fit your gender!

Permanent Taglist: @stephanieromanoff

MCU Taglist: @procrastinatingsapphictrash @okkulta @sarahp-stan

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) HERE!

“I don't like this,” Y/N muttered as they reread the email from Tyler Hayward for the umpteenth time, their boyfriend Bucky sitting next to them, his metal arm around their shoulders, and his fingers playing with their hair.

Because Y/N had similar powers to Wanda in that they both had energy blasts and their powers connected to the mind, Hayward wanted Y/N to come in and essentially take down Wanda because Y/N’s energy blasts were stronger than Wanda’s. However Y/N wasn’t fond of fighting their friend. 

“Neither do I,” Bucky agreed. “Which is why I’m coming with you.” 

Y/N smiled, leaning their head against Bucky’s shoulder. They knew they couldn’t talk Bucky out of this and wasn’t sure if they wanted to. 

“I can’t help but think that if I had been there for Wanda more after Vision-” Y/N started to say, feeling the tears starting to form. God, ever since the Avengers brought everyone back - Y/N and Bucky included - all Y/N had felt like they were doing was crying. First for Natasha, then Vision, and now Wanda. 

“Don’t do that to yourself, doll. You tried to reach out and be there for Wanda and there was only so much you could do,” he said, hugging them close. 

Y/N sighed, nodding. “I just- I don't get why she would do this to all those people,” they said, eyes flickering back to the email detailing in a harsh tone what exactly had happened to Westview and Captain Rambeau.

“Grief does unimaginable things to people - especially those with Wanda’s abilities. She probably didn’t mean what she did, and you’re gonna go make her realize that,” Bucky told them comfortingly, pressing a kiss to their forehead. 

Y/N rubbed their face with their hand, a million questions about their current situation running through their head. Hopefully they could fix it. 

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

As Y/N and Bucky walked into the S.W.O.R.D. base, they entered right as Captain Rambeau and Hayward were in a heated argument, and the couple paused to listen to what they were saying. As Y/N listened, they found themself starting to agree with Rambeau. Hayward didn’t just want Y/N to take down Wanda, he wanted Y/N to . . . to . . . they couldn’t imagine it, and Y/N didn’t want to hurt their former teammate and friend. 

As Hayward began to get ready for another argument, Y/N made their presence known. They stepped forward, towards Rambeau and Hayward. “If you want me to cooperate with this investigation, know that I will first try to talk to Wanda and then I might fight her if it is necessary. Nothing more,” they said. 

Hayward frowned, turning to look at Y/N, then at Rambeau and Bucky and finally at the other S.W.O.R.D agents nodding who were nodding in agreement with Y/N. “Fine,” he hissed with venom. “Don’t come crying when your way fails and you end up dead.” Bucky would’ve went after him as he walked off had Y/N not grabbed his arm and squeezed his hand in a comforting manner. 

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

When Y/N entered Westview, they were able to retain their memories due to their own powers, but their communication with S.W.O.R.D. (and Bucky) was lost. Thankfully it wasn’t that painful to enter Westview and Y/N was able to shake it off, but now they had to find Westview. 

As they walked and looking around, they tried to blend in. Everyone walking around town looked normal, but knowing that they were not, and that there was some kind of underlying darkness in the fake cherry facade sparked some fear inside them. Finally, Y/N reached Wanda and Vision’s house and knocked on the door, a bit hesitantly.

When Vision opened the door, Y/N almost choked on air as they tried to stifle the gasp that threatened to escape their lips. Y/N quickly recovered and smiled at the robot. “Hello, I’m looking for Wanda Maximoff. Is she home?” 

Vision nodded and directed them inside, telling them they could sit on the couch while he called for Wanda and then went into the other room. 

When Wanda came down the stairs and saw Y/N, her smile instantly turned into a frown and she stilled. Y/N saw this and calmly stood up. “Wanda-” 

“Did they send you?” Wanda cut them off in an off-putting calm tone, titling her head to the side as she slowly walked down the rest of the stairs. 

Y/N didn’t answer that. “I”m here to help you, Wanda,” they said. 

Wanda’s eyes briefly flashed red before she composed herself. “There is nothing you could do to help me. I have Vision and I have the perfect life,” she said, monotone. 

Y/N shook their head in argument. “You're a hero, Wanda! You don’t want to keep hurting all these innocent people. Besides, you’re not coping with Vision’s death in a healthy way.”

“He’s NOT dead!” The redhead cried, advancing towards Y/N, hands beginning to glow red, making Y/N still. 

“I’m your-” Y/N tried to say, but again Wanda cut them off. 

“DO NOT SAY FRIEND!” 

The outburst made them both silent and, glancing at Wanda’s hands, Y/N conjured their own powers, their hands now glowing silver. “My energy blasts are stronger than yours - please, don’t make me fight you. We can talk,” Y/N tried once last time, slowly moving back. 

Wanda smirked. “Your energy blasts may be stronger, but you cannot protect me from your mind,” she said, sending an energy blast at Y/N. 

Instinctively, Y/N went to block Wanda’s powers with their own. Wanda used this to her advantage and let one of her hands continue sending the energy blasts. Immediately, Y/N started to easily overpower her and before Y/N could finish that, Wanda used her free hand to send a different energy blast their way (which Y/N didn’t notice because they were too preoccupied with Wanda’s previous energy blasts), and it soon hit Y/N’s forehead and entered their mind, making them falter.

Y/N fell to their needs without realizing it and slowly stopped fighting Wanda, being overtaken by the memories flashes throughout their mind. First they saw the love of their life disappearing. 

“Bucky? What - your hand! What’s happening to you?” 

“Don’t worry about it, love.” 

“You’re disappearing! BUCKY!” 

Y/N remembered how they screamed and how they tried to hold onto Bucky, they remembered how painful it was, having to watch him die.

“NOOOOOOOOHHH! BUCKY? BUCKY!”

 They remembered moments after they Bucky disappeared they cried because they had lost, and then recalled how scared they were when they saw their foot disappear, and then their hand, and soon their entire body.

“We l-lost. GODDAMNIT WE LOST! BUCKY . . . no. No please. PLEASE YOU TOOK HIM WHY DO YOU HAVE TO TAKE ME TOO? - PLEASE DON’T-”

Y/N gasped and when she blinked, the memory was over. They glanced up at Wanda in tears, feeling weakened, and suddenly Wanda blasted them through the wall and towards the barrier. Y/N tried to use their powers to stop Wanda and it started to delay her until Y/N saw another memory. They screamed as they were forced to relive it and felt the pain from Wanda’s powers, and their screams got choked by sobs when they hit the barrier, which was much more painful now that they were leaving Westview from when they had entered.

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

As soon as Bucky saw his partner blasted back into the outside world, heard their screams, and then saw them hit the ground with a sickening thump, he ignored the orders Hayward was yelling out and ran as fast as his legs could carry him. When he reached Y/N, he noticed that they were half-conscious. 

“Bucky . . . You’re alive,” Y/N said tiredly.  

Bucky had no time to be confused over what they meant and scooped them up in his arms, cursing under his breath when they passed out. He then headed straight for his car, not trusting S.W.O.R.D. to help Y/N with what Wanda’s magic did when they didn’t know how to handle her, and went to Sam’s place. Sam would help, right? He had patched up Steve and Nat in 2014, after-all.

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

About an hour later when Sam had helped Bucky patch Y/N up, Bucky laid Y/N in Sam’s guest bedroom and took to sitting at their bedside, looking at them. Despite being unconscious, they were peaceful, and Bucky took Y/N’s hand in his metal one, smiling sadly. 

All he could think about was whatever could have happened? Y/N was stronger than Wanda, why didn’t they win? And then . . . when Y/N had said that Bucky was alive . . . did Wanda make Y/N think that he was dead? That very thought made Bucky tense up, anger flaring through him at the redhead for hurting Y/N and doing whatever else he had done. 

However, when the soldier looked back at his partner, all that anger melted away. Just looking at them calmed him, because he was reassured that they were safe and that they were okay. Bucky thought and then pressed a kiss to Y/N’s forehead. Now it was just time to wait for them to wake up.

[that-one-weeb-but-starwars]

My Love| Echo (part 6 beejesus...)

Notes: this ones short my bad, also this way shock you. I also have a strong urge to make hondo show up perhaps in the Future

Warnings: sad flashbacks, death and disease mentioned, cannablistic mentions (not eating anyone but like the word), cursing,

Reader: Male

Part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 3.5 | 4 | 5 | 6 (you're hah here)

Masterlist

That wasn't possible.

"What a shame." Maul spoke, turning himself around and walking away the Pyke leader following him.

This was wrong.

"If we came for this it better be important." Hunter spoke snatching the drive, "we leave now,"

"Me and Jacob they'll return you to your ship." The teen spoke up, "but be quick we'll need to leave with the transports."

It was a silent stealthy journey back to the ship, Echo being pushed along the way by Wrecker mostly as he was trying to process what was being told to him.

So...Y/n was dead? No that was possible- they couldn't of killed everyone.

He walked onto the ship the twins wishing them luck as they rushed back off into the darkness. He took a seat on his bunk, removing the head gear and mask, his gaze trapped within the grain of the metal.

"Tech get us out of here." Hunter demanded.

Wrecker watched Echo, his brows furrowed and in conflict.

"Hey. Kid." Wrecker spoke nudging Omega softly, "Good job out there."

"I just stuck to the plan." She smiled.

"Wanna do one more mission?" He asked playfully she nodded happily.

"Go find Lula. I think someone needs her." Wrecker spoke as Omega nodded rushing to find the Tooka doll.

Wrecker walked over to Echo, sitting across from the reg, Echo kept his gaze down.

"Hey."

"I don't, I don't understand." Echo responded, "I- I don't..."

"It's okay-" Wrecker tried to speak.

"But it isnt." Echo seethed.

The sudden jolt told them they had jumped to hyperspace. Echo rubbed over his eyes.

"What was Y/n's family doing associated with the Empire..." Echo spoke, "I...I don't..."

Wrecker frowned, Hunter watching the cockpits doorway, his brother lost and confused, let down and heart broken.

Walking into the cockpit the door closed behind him.

"You'll want to see this Hunter." Tech spoke, "Echo was right."

Hunter took a seat, "Y/n's code name is Rosyln then?"

"In a sense yes, yet It is many things." Tech informed, "It's multiple things, a name, a code name, a secret military operation."

" a what." Hunter demanded answers now.

"On this disk it says Project Rosyln was ment to help in implicating...hunger in a sense.."

"Hunger?" Hunter asked, "Hunger for what?"

"Flesh, sentinel flesh," Tech responded, "They had many failis dead on contacts, until. Rosyln."

"The dead brother of Y/n's Echo mention." Hunter spoke as Tech nodded.

"He survived it, partially, resulting in an outdated inner rim disease known as Cancer." Tech responded, "though it is not sepcified what type, he died young."

"So how does Y/n fit into it?"

"Rosyln was Y/n's younger brother by adoption law on corosaunt, and the Zabrack was not lying when he said The L/n family was ontop the imperals kill list, it was ment for them to go into hiding, to essentially metophorically and phsycially slip into the dark." Tech contuined.

"Okay so the kids?"

"Test subjects." He responded, "farm animals, future death troopers fueled by anger and loss, much more. Hunter, They weren't a family, those people they called there parents? Used them."

"Can we save any of them? Y/n? The older kids? The young ones? Anyone?" Hunter questioned.

"This here is a list of kids of Y/n's family," Tech spoke, plugging into the panel infront of him as the hologram formed, "red are dead, there eay of leaving is by there name. Jay here died of rejection of food, he starved to death. Siora drowned herself in the shower room-"

"Thats enough Tech. Who's alive." Hunter demanded.

"Y/n here is still alive, but that is all." Tech responded opening the file, "but has a number of unstablizing test ran on him, it shows here his diet was starting to change from normal foods to sential flesh, but before they could change him fully he escaped."

"How."

"Unknown."

Hunter was silent, for a moment as Tech closed the file, going through the others, "This also contains other information, such as helpful codes the imperals are now using, current inflation in imperal troopers, comn chatter and resources-"

"Don't let Echo see this." Hunter spoke.

"Hunter, I. I don't think this is a good idea." Tech told him, "You'e seen what he'll go through already to see him again. Hunter that was a sith he went up on, a Pyke leader."

"He doesn't need another thing to have a mental break down on. What happens if we find Y/n? Dead in a ditch-." Hunter argued, "if we can't fix him- we can't even help Crosshair None the less ourselves!"

"Hunter, he deserves to know." Tech defended, "let's be real here Hunter, we've nevee been there for him, we saved him from one hell to put into another, we can't help him because we don't understand him."

Hunter was silent, he knew Tech was right, "You're right." Hunter told him.

Tech pulled the disk from the panel looking back at Hunter, "Hunter I know this is hard. But this is his family. And I wish for a time in my life, I was wrong."

Hunter stayed silent walking out the cockpit, and down the small hallways, Omega trying to cheer Echo up with Lula and Wrecker with a supportive smile.

"Echo."

Echo looked back, "Tech wants to uh...show you something."

Echo got up without a word walking into the cockpit.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Omega questioned looking up at Hunter.

"Sure he will!" Wrecker tried to stay postive looking back at Hunter who kept his gaze down.

"Not this time Omega." Hunter told her, as she leaned in for a hug, he patting her head as she hug his stomach.

Tech walked out the cockpit, the doors closing behind him, "Echo wishes to take first watch while we rest," Tech informed.

"Where do we go next from here?" Omega spoke looking up at Hunter.

"We'll keep working jobs for Cid, seeing what we can do." Hunter responded, "Tech when Echo is done with that disk, see if anything on there has Crosshair on it."

"I have alredy copied the disk, I will look through it more on my watch after Echo's." Tech responded.

Hunter nodded

"hey kid." Wrecker spoke up, "lets go play a game together."

Omega nodded as Wrecker picked up Omega the two walking away to her room, Hunter mentally thanking Wrecker.

"How'd he react." Hunter responded.

"He hasn't." Tech responded, "I left it plugged in. He has the option. I just don't know if he's used it."

It was true, Echo had the option, the wanting, but he sat in his chair, staring at the disk sitting in the panel.

This was it.

This was the ticket, he could know, move on, grt some type of closure either Y/n was dead or alive. Even if Y/n was dead or alive he let Y/n's biggest secret slip.

'Just...I don't like people to pity his name.' Y/n told Echo, the two standing in all black together and umbrella over head as they walked the cemetery, 'he fought hard, that's all that matters, and there's no reason you should pity someone for when you loose,'

Echo nodded at him, 'I won't tell anybody, I understand to a degree, but if you need to talk, I want to listen,'

Y/n nodded, 'Thanks again for comin along Echo, not the best way to meet my baby brother,''

'I was glad to meet him, either way,'

Echo rubbed the back of his neck, finger's scratching at his nape. Standing up and walking over his hand hovered over the disk, should he pull it out? Should he press that small white button to let every fear he's had consume him?

He pulled the disk out, this was the right choice. Whatever he needed to know. He'd learn from y/n when he'd see him. Rubbing over the disk he slid it in his belts pouch and sat in the piolts seat looking out into the blue swirls. He was doing it again.

Sitting in silence, watching nothing new pass him by. Y/n was alive, if the others believed it or not was there choice, it was there opinion, he knew what he was saying was a fact, and he didn't need no disk to tell him so.

But the question still remained, Why was Y/n involved in crime syndicates and with Sith?"

The male turned himself around shoulder hair length, strings of white in his hair; stress induced.

"It's done." Lom Pyke spoke, "The kids are out, where is the spice."

"It's on the ship don't you worry." He spoke.

"You've returned the favor after I've said you returned the favor."

"Then we've returned the favor." Lom Pyke argued.

"I did everything you asked!" Lom Pyke argued, "I've stuck my neck out for you more than you can imagine you cannablistic bitch!-"

The pyke leader was cut off, lifted into the air as he gripped at his neck, and brought forward quickly, choking on the lack of air.

"Do you know who I am?" The man questioned quietly.

"L-let-" the pyke tried to speak stratching at his neck for breath, "let me g-go!"

"Oh...you don't?" The man questioned, "I was afraid once...not to long ago, afraid as you are now..."

The sound of choking made him pause adding slight pressure, "p-please!"

"I am no longer afraid...I am..." the man thought, any more and the pyke leader would die, "Well, funny thing is, I don't even know who I am anymore...but I do know, that, you, owe me much more than you think."

The man was dropped to the floor, attempting to catch air, "Perhaps, you wish, once to see who I was, to see how I became this thing you call a cannablistic bitch!"

"Please! No-" He defended, raising his head to look up in plead, "Not again! Not that place!"

A hand was placed on his head, as the Sith lord walked in. Within a matter of seconds the Pyke fell limp, the man pushing him over as he fell and rolled down the small stells of the elevated ledge.

"You're here for a reason Maul?"

"I am indeed, that clone, you told to meet us on Zut, there were clones."

"Entertain me Maul." He spoke, walking down the small steps, the hells of his boots clicking as he made it down the steps.

"Seems you're little buddy Captain dipshit isnt the only clone that's defected. That little Ray shit of your's hacked the imperal files." Maul spoke, his tone as usual, dark, broody, annoying to the mans ears, "Clone force 99, may just be on our side."

The man snatched the datapad from him, "and they have a child with them. How wonderful."

"Status' as of current."

"Like I said that dipshit of yours sursingly has his corners covered. Ray's tracking them as we speak." Maul told.

The man looked through the photo's there he was in all his glory, sure angry but just as remembered.

"Lets hope an ex sith lord, a fucked up group of clones, a cannablistic bitch kill, and some kids can help kill your old ass wrinkly master." The man spoke Maul snatching the data pad back and making his leave.

"Oh. And one know's who you are." Maul responded standing in the door way, "Before I gave them anything, one knew Rosyln is Y/n,"

[sugar-petals]

hey angel (m)

♡  sub!felix + reader 

↳ The JYP Halloween party is ditched on short notice. That means: You have a down-to-celebrate boyfriend in full angel costume on your hands.

words. 5k 

tags. domestic au, finger sucking, hickeys, latex, corruption kink, fingering, vaginal sex, footjob, harnesses, cunnilingus, kitten antics, edging, aftercare 

★⎡CARO’S NOTE⎦› here goes the cutie on duty 👼

genre. domestic + smut/crack

„So sorry mate,“ Bang Chan’s voice resounds through the speaker. „I thought it could work but… We can’t celebrate tonight. Really sorry, Felix. Changbin and I already got dressed up too, but, you know things got shut down. JYP won’t let us with the Corona rules and stuff.“

„Oh no…“

„Yeah, man. Looks like we’ll have to do it next year.“

„You even prepared the food already, right?“

„We’re handing it out to staff and eat it at home. I know, it sucks. I spent half the morning in the kitchen. I can like keep the pumpkin cookies so you can eat them tomorrow after practice or so.“

„I feel so sorry Chan… and thank you.“

„I’ll be calling Hyunjin and Han now as well. Really sorry we’re cancelling short notice. I hope you’re still having a nice evening bro. Maybe we can make it happen for Christmas.“

„Okay. Cheers mate.“

„Yeah, cheers.“

Felix puts his phone down looking more than deflated in his angel costume, puffs out a big sigh. You can tell he really looked forward to this. Just an hour before, you bothered to sew the wings in place rather than rely on the wobbly back-pack like construction that came with it. 

They’re firmly attached to his white top now, and all for nothing. He glued them together by himself with a pack of synthetic feathers ordered on Etsy for a ridiculous shipping cost, along with a little halo that he clipped into his hair. Which, because maybe it really does sense his mood, dangles low and even a bit lopsided over his head.

„It’s the party of the year,“ Felix flops down on the living room couch. “I can’t believe this.“

You sit down opposite to him, starting to clean off the table where masses of cosmetic products and leftover feathers have piles up.

„Next time, Lixie. We can keep the costume. Poor Chan, he organized the living shit out of everything.“

„I’ll just go and shower, get this off, and stuff,“ he points at his face. Felix applied his own makeup with a little help from you here and there, including some golden sparkles. Just yesterday, he bleached his hair. It’s sculpted down to every strand with hair spray now. Felix unties his sneakers with the little gold stars on. Just before he starts plucking off his halo, you get an idea, pick up your phone from the table.

„Wait— Let’s at least make some pictures with your phone, you put so much effort in this. You look so cute. The fans might want to see it as well.“

„Oh! You’re right,“ Felix stops right in his tracks. „For Instagram.“

After tightening his sneakers again and you making sure the halo sights right, Felix walks around your flat in search for a nice backdrop. You follow, quickly flipping through some filters to try, and adjusting the flash on the camera.

After posing at the fridge — strange idea — and in the bathroom turns out a little awkward as well, you decide that such an elaborate costume needs a themed background, and only the bedroom offers just that. You recently changed the duvet to sky blue sheets with clouds on them. The overall interior is mostly clean white as well, with some thrifted vintage furniture. Fairy lights, heavy curtains, a wooden ceiling. Perfect.

„We’ll caption it as… post your own stay-at-home costume, something like that,“ Felix plops down on the bed, acting as if he just took a seat on the cloud in the very middle.

„Sounds pretty good,“ you press release, and the first picture pops up on your screen. „Can you turn a little towards the light? That the sparkles are showing.“

„Yay, I love the sparkles!“

„Just like this, just like this. Don’t move. The sparkles!“

A five-picture series of more snapshots ensues, with you adjusting Felix’s face a few times by hand, even, turning his chin by sheer millimeters to find the perfect angle. He’s stunning.

„I have another idea.“

„Oh?“

„I remember what I wore for Halloween three years ago. The costume must be somewhere. I think it fits together with yours.“

„What, oh wow?“

„What was it again, wait…“

You already begin to sort through your wardrobe, checking each hanger, each drawer, end up where you store your socks, and finally pull out a larger plastic zip bag from the very depths of all that chaos. There it is. Nice.

„Lix, if you’d turn around for me, please.“

He immediately does. Blushing.

„Thank you, angel.“

You pull off your sweat pants, your grey shirt, socks, your bra. Time to dress up. Only your simple black panties stay on. On goes a pair of scarlet stockings, snug and high. Then, a dark red latex skirt that goes in big circles and flounces, down to the mid-thigh. 

Added: A tight sleeveless peplum top that admittedly… and deliberately squeezes your boobs a little. Not too much. More important is that your nipples are showing right through, and the cleavage is sweeping, every demon would be salivating at your feet. If an angel does: Remains to be tested.

Around your waist and chest and over your shoulder goes a black harness, pulling everything together. Some very pointed, glossy pumps with thin heels complete the costume. They’re not crafted to be walked on in the very least, their balance is terrible. You’re planning something else with them. Cherry on top: Devil horn headband. Really curved and pointy, too. Can’t go wrong. You click your tongue and take a spin. The skirt flares out perfectly. Ready to go.

„Felix, time to turn around.“

He does. You can tell he didn’t cheat.

„You’re, you’re so hot in this,“ Felix buries his face right in the comfort of his sweater paws, hoping they would not give away his embarrassed little face. But — his voice does, effortlessly so.

„Come on, have a look at me. Real closely, angel, come. You’re allowed to.“

Felix gazes through his fingers with what sounds like a little meep! in a much more high-pitched tone than his usual speaking range. He’s cute.

„Hey pum’kin. Miss Lucifer speaking. Where’s the barbecue?“

Felix and you recently agreed that hell must be one big and extremely hot cave where everyone’s grilling and having a good time. Australia, essentially.

„Welp!“

„Damn right. Infiltrating God’s realm one cloud at a time. Any last words?“

„It’s so intimidating!“

Felix digs himself into a mountain of pillows on the bed, with only his eyes and nose peeking out. You shrug, adjust your horns.

„Hm. Time for my first satanic act I guess.“

„Oh no!“

„Wait just one minute, be a sweet and patient boy.“

You leave Yongbok confused given that you’re quick to hurry to the kitchen. However, what you return with puts a giggle on his lips right away.

„Boom. It is served.“

„Yes, yes, please!“

Poufy black cocoa cupcakes. The ones with the cute little ghost frosting on it, and the melted chocolate inside. Felix finds them irresistable since the last Halloween party, to the point where you bake them mid-July. The current set of cupcakes was meant to be a contribution to Bang Chan’s eerie and delectable buffet. As for now, they’re in deep need of someone hungry since you made a lot of them, assuming a post-workout Changbin would devour at least five or more.

„Good move,“ he admits, a little shaky, and you proceed to tray the cupcakes on the bed — stuffing Felix for a solid ten minutes until there’s chocolate all over his face. What you’ll be quick to confess is that you’ve been deliberately messy feeding him, with all the crumbs in particular.

„Spoiled honey bun,“ you plant a kiss on top of his head.

„These taste so good, I swear.“

Next up is Felix who has to carefully maneuver the sweet treats into your mouth without spoiling your outfit.

„If you get crumbs into my cleavage, I can’t put your face in there later you know.“

Fierce nodding.

„That’s the spirit.“

Under your eagle eyes, he proves to be an obedient little cherub doing his job pretty well. The cakes are delicious in how spongy they are, and the liquid chocolate warms up so well on the tongue, it melts even more. You’re more than pleased and have Felix store away the remaining four pieces only after quite a while.

„I’ll have them for Brekkie, woo!“ is what he’s fast to proclaim, and you agree he’ll need them the next morning. Once you’re done with him, that’s gonna count as a hangover even Chan’s wildest party couldn’t give him.

„We’re talking dinner first, Felix.“

At this point, all the sugar is kicking in. Or it’s the chocolate being some kind of aphrodisiac. Whatever, could be either, you’re feeling like you’re up there at the ceiling, and you’re not the only one. Felix coming back to the bedroom so bouncy and cutieful just gets you even more in the mood.

You sit at the edge of the bed, slanting backward just a little. „You look like you need some more corruption, I won’t lie,“ you pat your lap, beckoning. He can ditch wifi because this is his favorite hot spot waiting for him. Felix sits down looking tiny as ever, eyes full of anticipation and his pants full of… big fat late night erection.

„I don’t mind at all, Miss. I don’t, oh my god…“ he mumbles into his nonexistent Aussie trucker beard, and you’re clear that whatever the skirt did to him, his brain must be doing kangaroo somersaults right now. In the meantime, something very eager is poking right at your lower belly. Captain Boomerang already came fully armed tonight and the Suicide Squad isn’t even anywhere near to be seen.

„Oh hey hey, cupcake. Getting really big there,“ you wipe at the curled little corners of his mouth. Some crumbs come off. His lips already twitch the way you know they want to do naughty things on you. He doesn’t seem to notice. Autopilot Felix has already taken over.

„Don’t hurry with it,“ he stares, mouth half-open, but his little grinds prove him a dirty — in an entirely direct sense — fucking liar. Like he’s literally rubbing himself against your stomach.

„Boy oh boy. You’re not even trying.“

„I’m fucked!“ is what Felix soon realizes with the daggers you’re shooting at him through your hopefully very satanic-looking eyes right now. Alongside catching up with his darn hips doing their own thing.

„You are.“

„I’m sorry for grinding, God help me!“

„He won’t. Cuz I’m here on your cloud. Cue stage number two of my demonic plan. Safeword?“

„It’s chocolate!“

„Mh. Good pick.“

The rest as usual. Tapping the thigh, yellow for pause, towels plus water ready, and always double-checking the lube in case of Jisung putting a glass of vegemite under your bed as his latest practical joke. Yes, it happened. It’s a whole new level of demonic. On the other hand: perhaps Felix’ ass could’ve actually handled it, Made in Australia it is. 

„Let’s go honey angel,“ you curl at his hair with a little finger just to tease him a little more. The answer is a little meow, at this point Felix’ communication skills have simplified to kitten vocabulary which always happens when he is nervous and looking forward to something.

Next thing poor Felix knows, his face has entered the scorching satanic abyss that is your cleavage. Literally, you’re burning up. It’s fucking October and Felix has you breaking a sweat from all your horniness (literally, your horns are just that chic) already. Twice the reason to punish the shit out of him. If that can be considered anything near a punishment.

A shower of various „Mh— nh!“ and mewling noises comes to rain down on you while Felix face takes a trip down mammary lane, and that, too, is literal. He’s salivating. So much about rain. Actually, great lubrication. Felix always does things best by instinct.

„Yes, good boy. Great job.“

Now that his mouth is wet already, you’re unceremonious about shoving your fingers right down his throat after he resurfaces. Blushed, hard, and ready to choke himself since he’s already running short on breath. It doesn’t take long until he’s gagging himself stupid and the sparkles under his eyes start running.

„Pretty, pretty,“ you lean down a little, kissing his nose. „Give me all you got.“

„Gh—gch—“

The answer is as slobbery and unintelligible as can be. To a normal human, at least. You’re a demonic top. That automatically means having an Ivy League major in gag noise translation.

„Oh yes, I know,“ you stroke his hair, using your free hand that usually rests at the back of his neck. „Talk to me about it. Exactly what I was thinking. Do go on.“

And he does, louder than ever. If there’s one satisfying sound, it’s this, that heavenly deep voice doing all kinds of nasty acrobatics is making you go crazy. That Felix is absolutely close to cumming in his angel pants is very much clear to you given how the veins and muscles on his neck are having a chaotic Halloween party on their own.

Which includes his tongue taking turns on your two fingers as well. And a wide-eyed Felix struggling, swallowing, holding on to your shoulders with his little feet twitching in their sneakers. Like mad… and you love it. But also — hopelessly sucking and moaning and slurping and squealing until his neck has way too much saliva on it for you not to make it your next target. Felix is so good at this. Way too good.

„Looks delicious,“ you lean in, your hair tickles his ears. And now, you’re busy nibbling, biting a little… and most importantly, giving Felix a wet hickey that will send his makeup artist — my God, you really torture the unsuspecting man almost weekly — into a meltdown. Rowdy and unholy is the look you’re going for.

In the meantime, Felix is still wrapped up trying to hit your fingers at the back of his throat. If his cute bouncy run and rude boner moment didn’t turn you on already, now you would be. The way he’s just sucking in his own spit makes you realize that you won’t ever need a fire brigade for your flat.

You emerge from his neck and raise your brows. Felix is just hard-wired to impress. „Just how much saliva can you produce!“

„Ch… Mnh— Nh…“

Hitting some more complex syntax and consonants there, is he.

„Oh, I get it now. You stayed hydrated during the day. Thanks for explaining, mate. That’s the secret.“

Whether that’s perfectly scientifically correct down to the enzyme theory and shit neither of you can google right now. At least you know that you’re both drenched on either end so that’s that.

Once Felix is so horny from deepthroating your damn hand that he has pull off and yellow-word, you’re already prepared for introducing a new position which you can prepare while he’s gathering himself and wiping off his chin. You hand him a second towel for his neck, and present him a little hand mirror to see how the hickey turned out.

„It’s shaped like, hm,“ he pants, words still slurring a little. „I dunno! It’s really cute!“

„Let me see… No doubt that’s a rice cake hickey. That’s the shape.“

„You’re right!“

And off he goes snapping a selfie with it while you get comfortable on your back, cleaning your own fingers.

„Just don’t upload that one to Insta instead of the cloud shots, we’re not gonna survive another Manager call at 1:15 AM.“

„Can I use your phone for it? That’s where it’s supposed to be on, anyway.“

Felix giggles a little. That cute brat. Always knowing how it’s done.

„Sure babe!“

And voilà, Felix is already occupied setting a good view of his new rice cake-shaped friend as your phone background. Good thing, helps his erection cool down a little, he was about to blow up his poor white pants. The acceptable unfair feat being that he’s just riling you up even more like that on the other hand.

„If you come to mommy now,“ you wriggle one foot in the air, the other splayed on the duvet, knee slightly bent. „Rubbing her pussy and doing your thing, you know how it goes.“

„Angel duties calling! What am I doing!“

At the speed of sound, Felix stores your phone back on the bedside table and crawls over in an instant. He props his chin on your abdomen and blinks.

„Sorry Ma’am. At your service. Never wanna keep you waiting.“

A big smile rouses his cheeks, and you boop them from either side. His peach fuzz is so soft and his eyes are so beautifully dark. You don’t waste any time keeping your skirt down for any longer. Another blink and Felix is already pawing — well, kneading and caressing technically — between your legs. He’s visibly understanding just how wet the whole finger sucking circus has left you now.

„What if I used my heels on your cock, boo. Still no cumming. Just my heels and my lil’ prince.“

Satanic plan stage number three. Felix has gotten to savor it last Christmas and for his birthday, and some time around the holidays in summer.

„I love it yay!“ Felix claps his hands. Baby, baby.

„C’mere then. Just keep on rubbing.“

His arms are fairly long enough. While you’re dragging the slender heels of either shoe right across the outlines on his crotch, Felix, eyes loosely closed, maintains a steady rhythm on your clit with three fingers lined up on the fabric of your panties.

„Oh fucking hell, Felix, shit—“

Whenever you masturbate, that alone would never do. You’d get frustrated after a while. Need more stimulation. But when Felix is on angel duty to keep your pussy soaked, it doesn’t need much to make your clit throb, even with your underwear still on. Guess that God’s little helpers know how to work their magic to make your head spin.

He’s hitting the right spot, with the right moves, and his other hand doesn’t miss out on a single opportunity to stroke at both the in- and outside of your thighs. The touch is so subtle, you twitch. Felix strokes on, delirious himself. His eyelids flutter.

„Fuck…“

Despite the little pause from earlier taking out most of his tension, your heels leave Felix with pants that are even more bulged out. That’s making it easy to direct your feet to jerk up and down at either side. You’d never know either of you would be so into this. Foot fetish and all.

Once he’s edged you to the point of moans, last thing you properly remember is calling it quits with the panties and telling him to line himself up. The heels kicked off, the skirt still on, you decide that unpacking your Halloween treat has been long overdue. You slide his pants down, roll down a pink condom, and grab his cock at the base to glide it all over your wet lips.

„Lix, come fuck me. You got me all horny. Satan is recruiting.“

„With me it’s not sinning,“ he smiles, brighter than the sun and you do right along. It’d be hard not to. Felix truly has the innocence of a virgin, the subtle confidence of an intermediate, the caution of a pro, and the kindness of a real veteran.

„You’re right about that Felix,“ you say, prop your entrance at the very tip, let the wetness do its job. „Come kiss your honey girl.“

And he does. Entering you with care for the right angle, letting your hip do the rest. What’s been circling and sucking your fingers so deliciously is now doing a hot job teasing and pleasing your tongue all over. His lips are amazingly soft and plump, they open so gently and feel electric on yours. A gentle squeeze around your left breast sparks a moan into the kiss from you. It’s Felix massaging your breasts while deepening his penetration, and you can tell the vegemite can stay under the bed today. You can tell Felix is getting more than flustered knowing it was all him who made you this dripping wet.

Even his dick seems to blush in sync. It’s fucking pink and red. Oh wait, that’s the condom. But knowing him and from your viewpoint, it’s still more flushed than before, no kidding. Faithfully pumping in and out of you at its full length now. You wrap your legs around his waist, the thrusts become deeper, shorter, parting you open much more, and filling you out so properly.

„So good. Right there, angel. Just right there. I’m loving that.“

Felix has a great dick. Best handy size, the girth’s comfortable, all nice and bendy, virtually no curve, you can always gyrate on it in any way and even take a complete 180 if you go from cowgirl to reverse (which you’d be doing right now but he’d crush his wings if he were on his back like that so no). Cherry on top, compact but soft balls that don’t steal the show but still do the trick during doggy. They’re whipping up the best cum in the world, so.

The slow kissing goes on and on and Felix tries to walk the tightrope of neither letting your pussy lips suck the orgasm out of him, nor making you cream his cock with shaky legs from all that gorgeous sloppy friction, and the kissing, and his sweet cherry shampoo scent that has your brain in absolute limbo.

With everything hanging by a thread like that, every kiss becomes special and full of a suspense that makes your lips tremble — either set, and Felix can hardly bear it himself.

His little halo is dangling back and forth, and you can tell by his face that all that thrusting has him in serious trouble. And you? Are fucking leaking and groaning, and that little shallow series of first contractions before your orgasm is already preparing you.

The sugar high from the cupcakes is fading, but your adrenaline is sure to replace it. You just want Felix to fuck you more and rock against him, and hold his head, and kiss him. God, his mouth is so warm and inviting, tastes so good like cocoa.

The pace joins yours without any effort, it adapts when your rhythm changes, and it stabilizes everything when you’re currently riding the high of his cock really filling you out so you can clench your muscles around him, feel him and tell him just you wait, I’ll milk you. He’s such a good kisser. You can feel all of your wetness running down your ass like it’s Christmas.

„Felix, I’m overflowing.“

„I’m so sorry,“ he whines into the kiss. „I’ll be washing the sheets.“

„Listen, baby,“ you break the tongue-on-tongue, „you doing laundry is really sexy. But the overflow is the best part. Just look what you’re doing to my body.“

You could ravage him on the spot. He’d probably lose it and cum in two seconds. Holding yourself before the edge is so tough right now.

„Shit… yellow again. Need a moment.“

Felix has to resort to a bit of cockwarming, and you use the little break to rid yourself off the harness. It’s not perfectly comfortable when you’re lying down. You’re about to fling it off the bed that Felix asks to wear it. Oh. Very well. It actually goes as a nice contrast on his white top, and the straps make it easy to adjust to him. And he wants it to sit on him really tightly. Oh again.

You realize—

On you, it’s only a fashion piece. Something random that came with the costume.

On him: It’s kinky.

„Hey hey. You look sexy, pum’kin,“ you pat at his chest. „Look at your waist, wow.“

Your sweet boy. It’s like it’s made for him. So cinched and the exact opposite of his costume. He’s a corrupted, dirty angel now, it’s perfect. With his pink neck and all sweaty face, and his little puppy gaze that will haunt you in your sex dreams because it literally just gets into your pants so much. Oh god, you just wanna cum. You have to distract yourself with chaste images of Felix washing the dishes or writing grocery lists with little hearts and emojis on them but that just makes it five times worse.

The way he puts the harness on with his dick inside you is so mouthwatering and cumworthy, you can’t wait to resume and switch your own brains off on that angel cock. Once Felix is ready to exit phase yellow and resume the session, your hands magically gravitate towards the straps of the harness at this waist.

„Can I?“

„M—hm!“

You have the time of your life grabbing and guiding him by the harness, controlling every thrust. Felix clenches up his teeth from how lavishly his cock is squeezing into your pussy.

„Oh babe,“ you groan out. „Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Come on, angel.“

He’s not going to take it much longer. Felix is tensing all over, neck to the knees, it’s a huge shock wave in the making. That climax is going to be like a fucking punch into outer space.

„I’m really at my limit, I’m, I’m…!“

„Cum for me, angel,“ you reach to his neck to bring his lips down again. Your mouths going into shaky contact brings a big soaring moan with it.

„Ahn—!“

You lock lips, his face scrunches up, and you can tell that cum worth of three orgasms is currently pooling into the condom. You don’t belong to the mile high club, but going by how far up this feels, you might as well be. Those sweet shivers. And the little whines. It’s all too much for him, this one got him bad. Felix cumming is like the angels really are singing. With bells and harps and all that shit at once.

After pulling out, the ruined condom goes off lightning fast. Felix’ cock gets some much-needed cooling, but his face is on heavy duty. How he does it after almost getting his lights turned off, it’s a mystery, it must have been six whole loads he shot into you. You’d already be collapsing in his shoes. Felix still being able to put his mouth to work is an act of divine intervention. Honestly though, it doesn’t even take half a minute. Sloppy head from Felix is cryptonite, your stamina comes tumbling down. His tongue just knocks you out with an overwhelming rush of pleasure.

“Oh— yes...”

What is gravity? You don’t know what north and south mean anymore. He laps and sucks you through your high and your legs give up their soldier service. All you see it fluffy blonde strands of hair peeking from below your skirt, a glimpse of the harness, the rest is heavy growling and swearing from all of the contractions and Felix getting raw and dirty Down Under with no fears, literally none, to bury his face and move it around and let his tongue loose. Time and again Felix shows you he’s a swallower. Satanic agenda: success.

For tonight, your pussy will be nothing but glitter, cum, and spit. Swollen like crazy, properly fucked, and tipped to the absolute limit. Felix keeps on slicking up his face completely, and then brings you into the afterglow with his fingers. One at a time, barely adding stimulation. Just fetching you where you are and climbing down. Looks like you’ll share the cupcakes, this is a couple hangover in the making. In Felix’ case in particular. It’s like he signed up for testing a mad scientist’s latest designer drug.

„Wow wow… So you served me choco cupcakes and God’s menu,“ is the last thing he can say in his delirium before falling over. He’s so fucked out and went so wild on eating you, a part of the harness came off. Thank god his nose is so small, all that swiping could’ve broken the bridge and whatnot. And his lips, they’re twice as plump. You really have to compliment in on what his mouth has done today because that was some champ shit.

You’re both buffering on the sheets for a solid five minutes until you roll to the side. Towel… water… forehead kisses. Yes, forehead kisses most importantly. After gathering yourself a little, you pamper Felix into a heart rate around 90 rather than 120. And with the onset of exhaustion for the two of you, that’s not too hard after some minutes passing. Whispering sweet nothings and praise is all you do up until 2 AM and after. Felix is somewhere between worlds, one foot in the door of the dreamland, the other soaking up the care and the intoxicating, thick scent of the room that has a lot of cherry shampoo in it.

At some point. You loosen the harness, pull off his shirt with the wings attached. The halo you unsuccessfully try to spot in his hair. Turns out: It flew off. Felix really must’ve made Satan proud if it fell down just like that. Good job. Felix has earned a title of being a dirty angel now, and by the way he’s chugging water now, a wet one on top of that.

Five tons of spit, six, seven, who knows how many he’s afforded for today. A head pat is not enough, it has to be several, and Felix passes out onto the pillows. As good as you can, you wipe him down, bin the condom, get off his shoes and his half-pulled down trousers. After staggering to the bathroom, your skirt and peplum shirt follows, the stockings stay on, they’re cozy as hell. Last but not least, you remove your devil horns. It feels like they granted you the most unknown demonic powers.

Next time Felix is on his way to making you cum again, you’ll be wearing them, and you’ll last the way you did tonight. Meanwhile, Bang Chan is blowing up your phone because Felix pressed send by accident earlier, but you don’t notice. It just keeps on vibrating on the bedstand and Chris will have to riddle over the rice cake selfie for the rest of November.

Felix dozes with an angelic little smile on his lips and puffs his cheeks in his sleep, his makeup wiped and his hair truly messy. Instagram can wait. Maybe you’ll get to brush your teeth a little later, it usually takes some time until you wake up again and topple to the sink. You huddle together, tuck your sweet baby pum’kin into his second favorite spot at your chest. Ah, the glory of Felix little spooning.

As the last signature, you nibble at his ear, call him your cutie pie, and switch the lights off. You have to listen closely but if you do, it’s like Felix is purring in his sleep. Whatever your own dreamland is planning to launch on you tonight, you’re looking forward to it.

© 2017-2020 submissive-bangtan. all rights reserved. reposts, modifications and translations are prohibited. character depictions are fictional & for entertainment purposes only.

PS — oh, my good ole fellas, a last cursed disclaimer. i must insist on the following for obvious reasons. vegemite makes for some terrible strap lube okay 😂🇦🇺

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[vidavalor]

Bucky’s dual-era dog tags in TFATWS (and when & where he decides to wear them) are giving me some SamBucky-related vibes...

...in addition to the just interesting stuff related to Bucky’s various identity issues. So let’s talk the dog tags. 

First things first, these really do not seem like they’re Steve’s dog tags-- they’re Bucky’s own. Why? Look at the promo still below which is the best view I’ve seen of them in TFATWS. Notice that they are not of the same era. One of the dog tags is a WW2-era tag-- the darker, wider one is not only period-accurate for WW2, it’s identical to the ones Bucky was wearing during WW2 in the movie canon already, most visibly in the “let’s hear it for Captain America!” moment. The *other* dog tag Bucky is wearing in TFATWS, though, is of a more modern issue. It is the kind that would be made for soldiers now and over the last couple of decades. So, how does that mean that they’re Bucky’s and not just Steve’s and what does this have to do with Sam? 

Dog tags are only meant to be separated off the chain in the case of death, as everyone probably knows. Soldiers wear two tags with the same information on them into battle so that one remains on them if they die and the other can be pulled off the chain as proof of a fallen soldier during battle, with the army then usually passing the single chain to next of kin. If Bucky were wearing a pair of WW2-era dog tags in TFATWS, I’d say it was more possible that he was wearing Steve’s tags because Steve didn’t actually have them on when he went into the ice so, somewhere, Steve’s pair of WW2-era dog tags exist as a set, still on the chain. They probably wound up in the Smithsonian at some point but back to Bucky-- his, based on the canon we know, would have been separated after the freight car. 

Bucky was wearing his dog tags when he fell off the train car because he was at war. We know that the Russians found Bucky and then handed him back over to Zola. The Russians, to cover this up, would have taken one of Bucky’s dog tags and given it to the U.S. Army, claiming that they had found them washed up on the shore near where he fell or something. What did the U.S. Army do then? They didn’t know what Zola had done to Bucky beforehand that would enable him to survive the fall so they wouldn’t think to question the Russians on this-- they’d just be like hey, thanks for this and we’ll continue to do the same for you. They would have taken the dog tag and marked Bucky off as dead and then done the next thing, which is to give the dog tag to the soldier’s next of kin. 

Bucky died during war time and everyone knew he and Steve had been friends before the war so whatever general got the dog tag probably just gave it to Steve. Steve *could* have given it to Bucky’s sister at some point-- and we know she exists in the MCU because Bucky briefly mentioned her in TFATWS but we don’t know if he’s gone to see her yet-- but we also have no idea what she’s like in the MCU or if Steve might have just decided to keep the dog tag for himself. Given the trauma Steve went through of witnessing Bucky’s death and them not finding Bucky’s body, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume that even if Steve was the one who told Rebecca about Bucky’s death and all that, that he kept Bucky’s dog tag. The other one, that was on Bucky at the time when he was given back to Zola, was destroyed by Zola during him being brainwashed into The Winter Soldier. 

So, maybe through seeing Rebecca but probably really through Steve, Bucky gets one of his WW2 era dog tags back. Given that he isn’t seen wearing dog tags again until TFATWS, it’s likely that Steve gave it back to Bucky sometime in the Endgame aftermath before Steve went back in time. Let’s unpack how Steve’s heart was in the right place but that was a bit of a loaded gift here...

Free from being brainwashed-- as free as he’s been *since* WW2 anyway-- Bucky is essentially handed by Steve the symbol of what he just can’t be anymore-- that guy that Steve used to know. He’s still somewhat that guy but he’s been through so much that he’s not going to ever go back. Steve is into going back-- back to the same girl, back to the same era, back to a time when things felt less confusing and safer to him, where things will hurt less. Bucky has always been the absolute opposite of this-- while Steve was always desperate to fit the mode of the model man of the WW2 era, Bucky-- a good-looking, able-bodied soldier who can hot-blooded American male with the best of them-- was never a man of his time, always a bit ahead of it. Steve is Captain America-- Bucky is Captain World of Tomorrow. He’s more realistic about what America is because as a guy putting on a show for the world to pass in the society that Steve worships, Bucky has a very different perspective on all of it than Steve did. (See also, obviously, why Bucky and Sam understand one another and are better for one another than either of them with Steve.) Bucky is touched that Steve had this and is trying to do something nice by giving it back to him but it’s the singular dog tag bearing ‘James Buchanan Barnes’ like it’s literally being his own next of kin at this point as Steve’s about to go back into time-- it’s being handed a reminder of the demise of his sense of self and his *literal almost actual death* right when he’s trying to figure out how he’s going to view himself and what he’s going to do in this world now that he’s going to stay in the present. 

So, he’s not wearing it. He doesn’t really know what to do with it. He’s with Sam at the time (maybe not *with* Sam but I mean they’re sharing a lot of the same space, either at the Avengers compound or Sam’s apartment, in the whole Endgame aftermath time period but pre-TFATWS) and Sam sees it and Bucky tells him he’s putting it away because he can’t wear it. Steve was trying to do a nice thing but Bucky’s like I can’t wear one of these things, my old WW2 one-- it’d be like I was a walking corpse. Sam agrees. So, from here two things could have happened...

One is that Bucky could have made the decision to just get himself a modern secondary tag but keep in mind that Dr. Raynor actually had to clear Bucky for active duty and that wouldn’t have happened right away. More importantly, some military guys basically never take off their dog tags but we have evidence that Bucky used to actually *not* be like this so much. While he had them on during the war, much has been made (and should be made, for sure) about how Bucky’s wardrobe changes after his first encounter with Zola compared to when he first left for war. The Bucky in uniform on the double date with Steve is spiffy and spotless; the Bucky in the bar with Peggy and the Howlies is barely hanging on. The most major difference is how much he pushes his uniform away from his neck and stops wearing a hat-- some have theorized that Zola was trying an early version of the mind crown on Bucky before Steve found him, prompting Bucky to develop a trauma-induced need to have things away from his neck. 

This actually doesn’t change that much after Civil War, when he’s free from his handlers and on the run. By necessity, there’s a baseball cap at times but he wears a lot of henleys and there’s not actually any necklaces or dog tags until TFATWS. So, what changes? The addition of the modern tag and his reclaiming of the idea of being a soldier. So, the two options for how Bucky got the modern dog tag are really either a) he went and had one made for himself or b) Sam gave it to him. Let’s look at why the former would be kind of a healthy choice for Bucky but why it’s probably not likely to be what happened. 

One scene that stands out for me is the single scene in TFATWS where it’s really obvious that Bucky is *not* wearing the dog tags. They show up all over the place-- he has them on for basically the entire series. He’s even *sleeping* in them, waking up with them on during a nightmare where they’re prominent in the scene and then also in its contrasting scene, on the couch in Delacroix. So, the one scene we don’t see Bucky wearing them? His first therapy scene with Raynor. 

It’s made pretty clear that while Bucky got a thing or two out of his time with Raynor, it’s not really because of Raynor herself, who is basically a terrible trauma therapist. It’s also clear that Bucky doesn’t trust her and for good reason. We see that he really shouldn’t-- she’s forcing him into rules he can’t actually live by instead of helping him find ways through those scenarios when they invitably pop up (“don’t hurt anyone” is a recipe for failure) and she’s treating a man violated in every way under the sun in a way that’s invasive. She’s monitoring his phone. She threatens his compliance by *bringing out a book that she’s writing his secrets in* like... this isn’t the healthiest scenario here. What we also see is that Bucky subtly rebels against her. He somehow got himself cleared for active duty by her so he’s been b.s.ing her. He is later seen with a smart phone he knows how to use at Zemo’s (and had to have something on which he was online dating profile perusing) but Raynor thinks he just owns an old flip phone. So, it’s something really interesting that this is the one scene where we can’t see the chain of his dog tags. Why? Why doesn’t he want Raynor to know about them? 

Because he’s hiding what they mean to him. If he wore them in, he’d have to talk to her about them. The dog tags represent his real efforts to reconcile his identity and what he wants that to look like-- he’s vulnerable about them because they represent what little hope he has left. If Bucky had gone out and gotten that modern dog tag for himself and began wearing them, it’d be something healthy to share with Raynor. He’d want to show it off, all eager to show the doc the decision she’d see as healthy and let her analyze it with him. We know that Bucky is struggling to reconcile his identity-- it’s literally his whole story arc in TFATWS-- and yet, he’s wearing dog tags that cut to the chase of it, in a lot of ways. Which is why those dog tags were on in New York all the time except for with Raynor-- why he wore them to bed, even-- and why he leaves them on when he goes to see Sam. 

Sam got Bucky that newer tag. Probably when Raynor cleared him as a congratulations thing or maybe just when he saw Bucky left with a friend who went back in time and left him with nothing but a notebook of things to check out and a corpse necklace and felt for him. In essence, Bucky is wearing around another pair of dual identities in TFATWS-- the Bucky who died in WW2 and the Bucky who is still alive again now in the present-- as given back/given to him and represented by the once and future Captain Americas, who also happen to be the guys he’s loved (in different ways) the most in his life. That he’s wearing them is a sign that he wants to be Sgt. Barnes again-- this newer version of himself. It’s progress from the man who shuddered at stuff around his neck and TFATWS shows us that in other scenes as well, in other ways (his hoodie & jacket combo when they go to talk to Zemo; his signature jacket with a higher collar than we’ve seen him in since he left for war.) The wardrobe choices show an evolution-- a willingness to try to a new place of managing what he’s been through. 

But wearing those dog tags around Sam in TFATWS? (And wearing them when he and Sam weren’t really communicating ahead of it?) Yeah. The parallel to Bucky showing up in Delacroix with a whole new outfit for Sam’s new identity as Captain America is that it was Sam who gave Bucky the modern half of his dog tags (and the chain, which is lighter silver and from the present era) and that’s why Bucky has been wearing them. Steve gave him a reminder of the guy he used to be, even if that guy was still pretty dead but Sam gave him a duplicate-- one that represented the guy who belongs to more modern times and is alive. One tag is death; two is life.