#hot wheels mari

[marislittleworld]

Mari's turnaround is completed

I did my OC's turnaround in case of fanarts 😄

[browsethestacks]

Merry Comics Christmas 2023

[prentissluvr]

just saw the HOTTEST emt in the world oh my god i was like… woah i need to get injured and call an ambulance and that specific emt to come take care of me she was like. absolutely stunning she was so fucking hot WOAH

[ann-chovi]

In retrospect, pep-up plant tea was.... maybe a bad idea.

[normanbased]

bee I just got ur ask and I’m gonna draw smth for it but give me like a day Cus I’m soooooo sleepy rn, I 100% agree tho Mary seems like she would be super into Garfield. I think she’s a Nermal fan, I bet she has cute shirts with Nermal and earrings with him on.

[consciouscarrot]

day 11 - medical kink/doctor x patient [r.lupin]

remus lupin x fem!reader

content warnings; dub/con, innocence, abuse of power (remus), so many pet names, vaginal fingering, p in v, basically ‘hysteria’, very unrealistic loss of virginity (next to no pain mentions, remus doesn’t go slow etc), r thinks she’s been wetting herself slightly but she’s just horny and wet lol, age gap (r is 18, remus’ age is undisclosed but he’s a licensed doctor)

notes; (unintentionally) the longest fic i’ve even written by far, oh my god my thumbs hurt. all likes, comments and reblogs much appreciated. as always mdni

kinktober/flufftober masterlist

—————

you’d been guided into the empty room at the doctors office by the bored receptionist, her muttering something about the doctor joining you soon, and to take a seat.

it had been a few minutes since then, you were sat carefully on one of the patients chairs, grasping nervously at the cross hanging between your breasts. the ticking of the clock only amplified your nerves, leg bouncing as you stared at the door, imaging all the ways this appointment could go wrong.

you jumped when the door opened, doctor lupin walked in, smiling widely as he shut and locked the door behind him.

“hello, it’s lovely to see you again, y/n,” he sat down at his chair, not taking his eyes off of you.

you nodded along, not trusting your voice just yet, nails now digging into your bare thighs, skirt shifting higher up your legs.

“now, i was told that you’d been having some female problems, could you tell me more about that?”

avoiding eye contact, you chewed on you lip before attempting to explain your embarrassing situation, “i- um, i’ve been having some- some weird feelings, y’know uh, down there,” you mumbled.

“okay, how long has this been going on for, hm?”

“a few weeks, maybe. it’s- it’s on and off though, not all the time,” what you refused to mention, was that whenever you were experiencing these feelings, was when you were thinking about your hot new doctor.

“yeah? so around the time that i saw you last? why didn’t you mention anything then, sweetheart? it seems to be bothering you an awful lot,”

oh my gosh, this was the most mortifying moment of your life. how on earth were you supposed to tell him that the weird sensations only started happening since you met him.

you’d had to change doctors after you moved house, still living at home with your parents, and had met dr lupin for a standard checkup. you’d instantly become a stuttering mess- much like you were now- at how attractive he was.

you weren’t sure how to answer his question, cheeks flaming, and almost sighed in relief when he clearly pitied you enough to ask something different.

“do you think you could describe what the weird feelings are like, honey? are they painful?” he asks, face twisted in concern.

“no they don’t hurt, it’s like- tingly, i think. feels throbby and uncomfortable. it um-,” you shifted in your seat, eyes locked on your mary-jane clad feet.

“it’s okay, take your time,”

“it makes me pee a little, i keep having to change my- my underwear,” you eyes began to sting in humiliation, knowing that if your parents found out that you’d been wetting yourself at the age of 18, they’d never speak to you again.

“sh, sh there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. are you sure it’s pee? or is it thicker, maybe a clearish-white?”

“yeah, it’s just like that, and it’s sticky too,”

“i think i know the problem, y/n. it’s easily treated, but you’ll need regular treatments with me to keep it contained, okay?” he wheeled his chair closer to his desk, typing something in his computer, nodding when you meekly said okay.

you were beyond relieved that you were going to be okay, that you wouldn’t have to confess your sins to the priest and your parents, that you could be cured by your nice doctor.

“alright, i need you to fully undress, get into this gown and lay down on the bed for me, then we can start the first session,” he gave you no room for arguments, handing you a pale blue hospital gown and turning back to his computer.

you shuffled over to the bed, slowly undressing and blanching at the thought of him seeing you borderline naked. your family were very christian and at a young age you had promised to never ruin yourself, especially not before marriage. you’d never been allowed any boyfriends growing up, always heavily punished if you’d been caught even looking at a boy for too long.

you’d since learnt your lesson, only having girl friends, steering clear of anyone outside of the church and keeping your head down in public. the idea that dr lupin would be seeing you down there, was enough to bring you close to tears.

you peered over your shoulder periodically, nervous that he’d turn around and catch a peep of your bare skin.

slipping into the gown, you climbed onto the bed, laying back as you called out to him that you were ready.

you watched dr lupin set up, snapping on his gloves and sanitising various terrifying looking equipment on his metal table.

“just need you to pop your feet in the stirrups, lovely girl,”

you carefully did as he said, legs spread wide and feeling oh so vulnerable, but terribly scared of disappointing him. you hated it, but a small part of you was loving the way his hands gripped your ankles when he strapped you in, murmuring reassurances about it being for everyone’s safety, thumb stroking along your delicate skin.

eventually, he stood between your legs, blue gloved hands hovering above your private parts, “is it okay if i start? i’ll need to touch you.”

you nodded your consent, breath hitching as he made contact with your very inner thigh, fingertips sliding closer to where the problem originated, his eyes never leaving the area.

“are you having those feelings now? you’re all wet, love,”

a tear finally slipped free, cooling your burning cheeks as you turned your head away, shame consuming you.

“oh baby, it’s okay, i’m gonna help you, you want me to make you feel better?”

you nodded, finally looking up at him with salty tears glittering in your pretty eyes, wanting nothing more than this horrible feeling to go away. you wanted dr lupin to make you all better.

his digits glide over your pussy, your warm slick coating them. you whimper when he hits your sensitive clit, legs twitching in response. the taste of iron coated your tongue, biting down as a pathetic effort to try and keep quiet, mindful of other patients in the waiting room just down the hall.

he slowly started circling it, free hand going to press at your throbbing hole, “fuck, you really aren’t very well, are you poppet? s’alright, i have just the thing to make you feel good again, it’ll fix you right up,”

you cried out when a finger entered you, tight walls spasming around the foreign object. sobbing and shaking, so overcome with pleasure with him working you up to your fast approaching orgasm. you let out a sharp gasp, confused as to what was happening to your body. you were losing control of your movements, and you began to worry that you were being possessed by a demon.

those thoughts were cleared from your mind when you came with a squeal, thighs closing around his hands in an effort to get the overwhelming pleasure to stop. you were astounded that something medical could feel so amazing, or even that it was possible to feel like this at all. you felt very lucky that you had such a good doctor, even if he made you feel flustered.

already, the feeling deep in your belly was starting to be satiated, but you really hoped that there would be more treatment today, as it still lingered and you desperately needed to feel that bliss again.

when he pulled his fingers away, he could see the white substance ringed around them, arousal fluid still connecting your heat to him in strings. his erection was pulsing against his trousers, dampening the fabric there as he tried to hold back from corrupting you too much.

oh well, too late now.

he whispered praises to you, rubbing your thighs and smearing your cum all over them as he tried to calm you down, smiling softly when you reopened your eyes.

“that was intense, huh? you did so well for me, just need one more from you, then you’re all done for today. i know, it’s a lot, but it’s really important that we fully complete the treatment, especially seeing as you shook so much,”

you nodded hazily, head much too clouded in pleasure to be able to take in what he was saying. you’d never felt that good in your life, and you supposed that it was a good thing that you’d gone to the doctors first instead of the priest, feeling much better already.

still so caught up in your mind, you didn’t pay any attention to what dr lupin was doing, not noticing him snapping off his gloves before unbuckling his belt and pulling out his reddened cock.

“this piece of equipment is really gonna make a lot of difference in your recovery,” he said, rubbing his tip along your puffy entrance, groaning quietly when it caught, slipping inside slightly.

you moaned loudly when he finally pushed in, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the mixture of pleasure and pain.

dr lupin had to hold still for a moment, trying to hold back from giving you a creampie already at the sight of your virgin blood staining his cock, pearly white and crimson mixing to create a rosy pink that coated him.

checking that you were doing okay, he pulled out until only his tip was left inside of you. fingers grasping at your waist, hard enough that he knew it would leave plum coloured bruising, remus gave you no warning before he began to pound into you, letting out guttural groans as your back arched off the bed.

the clinical paper ripped beneath you, his hips slapping against you, the two of you moaned, fully giving up on staying quiet, getting lost in the feel of each other.

his rough hands grabbed at your ass, tugging you towards him with each thrust, sweat collecting along his hairline. his eyes switched between looking at your face and your pussy, tears still spilling over with a heated face, pussy covered in your shared fluids, throbbing around him.

feeling your high building up again, he held back his own, wanting to finally release together, he lifted a hand off of your ass, circling steadily over your little button to push you over the edge.

the band coiling inside of you finally snapped, and you whimpered as you squirmed around, body shaking uncontrollably. your nails dug into the sides of the bed, trying to hold on as he worked you through your orgasm, groaning out as he too let go.

you felt his hot cum spurting inside of you, moaning at the new feeling, praying internally that this would never end. your previously arched back fell down as your orgasm ended, aftershocks still wracking your body. you were happy that he had gotten to feel this good too, even if you didn’t understand what that fluid was, or why he’d felt pleasure as well.

breathless, his body involuntarily folded itself over in exhaustion, slumping down onto yours. he tried to catch his breath, feeling your chest expand and collapse underneath his face, heart beating wildly.

he slid he cock out of you, and you were just about lucid enough to notice this time that the piece of equipment was attached to his body. you thought it was quite handy to have something so useful joined onto him, wondering if that was a part of the training to become a doctor.

hot cum poured out of your abused hole, trailing down onto the ripped up clinical paper, soaking the already damp material. remus pulled it out from under you, binning it before grabbing a couple of baby wipes from a nearby drawer.

“good girl, did amazing for me, baby. y’might just be my best patient,”

he wiped you down, soothing you when you jolted from the cold feeling of the wipes, unstrapping your ankles, then guiding you into slowly standing and redressing, turning away when necessary but occasionally peering over his shoulder to catch glimpses of your pretty body.

“i think we’ll book you in for another session, let’s say two days from now? is 2:00pm alright with you?” he asked when you were ready to leave.

you quickly agreed, already excited for the next appointment. he helped you out to the car park where your parents were already waiting for you, ignoring the dirty look the receptionist gave the two of you, patiently holding you up as you stumbled along, before subtly patting at your bum, telling you that he can’t wait to see you again.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Photograph: Kevork Djansezian/Getty Images

* * * *

“You must not ever stop being whimsical. And you must not, ever, give anyone else the responsibility for your life.

[…]

“I don’t mean it’s easy or assured; there are the stubborn stumps of shame, grief that remains unsolvable after all the years, a bag of stones that goes with one wherever one goes and however the hour may call for dancing and for light feet. But there is, also, the summoning world, the admirable energies of the world, better than anger, better than bitterness and, because more interesting, more alleviating. And there is the thing that one does, the needle one plies, the work, and within that work a chance to take thoughts that are hot and formless and to place them slowly and with meticulous effort into some shapely heat-retaining form, even as the gods, or nature, or the soundless wheels of time have made forms all across the soft, curved universe — that is to say, having chosen to claim my life, I have made for myself, out of work and love, a handsome life.

[…]

“And now my old dog is dead, and another I had after him, and my parents are dead, and that first world, that old house, is sold and lost, and the books I gathered there lost, or sold — but more books bought, and in another place, board by board and stone by stone, like a house, a true life built, and all because I was steadfast about one or two things: loving foxes, and poems, the blank piece of paper, and my own energy — and mostly the shimmering shoulders of the world that shrug carelessly over the fate of any individual that they may, the better, keep the Niles and the Amazons flowing. And that I did not give to anyone the responsibility for my life. It is mine. I made it. And can do what I want to with it. Live it. Give it back, someday, without bitterness, to the wild and weedy dunes.”

—Mary Oliver, “Staying Alive”

h/t The Marginalian

[via Follies Of God]

[doukeshi-kun]

Dad Nikolai is definitely the type of dad to walk around shirtless all the time especially during the summer. Like he's the dad that while all the kids are outside playing, he's chilling, not a shirt in sight. Sun's out, tiddies out. Gimme his breasts pls 🙏

𝙙𝙖𝙙!𝙣𝙞𝙠𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙞 + 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨

replies ✥ oh hell yea tiddies outttt

contents ✥ fluff, suggestive , oc kids (yuri, mari, karol), fem!reader

Nikolai treats you like a queen.

His words and manners are enough proof that he sees you as one. You could not remember how many times have you felt so down about your appearance, especially after three pregnancies. But Nikolai would always be there, hands slithering on your body, tracing your curves and folds and fleshes and bones, with his lips uttering how beautiful you are.

And he is such a great father as well. He makes sure your children all tell you how beautiful and pretty and cute you are. Yuri is a good boy—he always says nice things to you. Mari wants to be as pretty as you—she said. And Karol... Well, he often compares you with his favourite Hot Wheels cars, so you take it as a compliment.

It's summer. The sun is bright outside. It is a little windy, it is such a nice weather to chill. You are standing right outside your house, monitoring Yuri and Mari who are gardening. They seem to be focused on choosing between succulents. Yuri has taken a new interest these days and you are more than happy to support him—and Nikolai is always eager to play with Yuri, despite the boy's annoyance.

“Dad, dad! Bell man gonna come! Just waaatch!”

“I don't understand you, Karol...”

You hear your husband's voice and you turn to the side, seeing Nikolai's pinky getting pulled by Karol who is excited about some 'bell man'. Nikolai notices you and mouthes 'Help me' with a pleading pout.

However, your eyes are wandering away.

You know Nikolai likes to be shirtless—and this man is a nudist after 2AM—but there is just something else about his look right now.

Shirtless, black shorts, hair in a bun. His chest is toned, with lines of his muscles. His shoulders are just as broad as you remember.

You do not know if it is hormones or you are just attracted by how good of a father he is, but he definitely stirs something in you. You find yourself to be staring hard at his physique—has he exercised or something? Why do his arms look so strong and firm? Why does his waist look so huggable? Are his muscles already looked that toned and visible?

“Pervert alert.”

You swallow nervously when you realize that he is standing beside you. A timidity creeps up, and it feels like you two are young again. Nikolai grins, leaning closer to you. You feel your cheeks heat up and you lightly shove him by his chest, although it does nothing to nudge an inch of him.

“Aww, you shy now?” He teases again, holding your wrist and keeping your hand close to his body. Your fingers are brushing against his bare skin—he is slightly sweaty and he feels warm. Nikolai smirks, pressing your hand so you would palm his chest. “Come on, don't be shy. We've been together for years, my love.”

You pout, pinching his chest lightly. Instead of wincing, Nikolai only laughs, enjoying your reaction. “You’re so fun to tease. Always the same face. Never get tired of it, you know?” He says as he gives your ass a light smack, which you do not mind as much—he is always touchy. But his hand is lingering on your rear for a little too long.

He gives your ass a good squeeze, causing you to squirm and hitting his chest lightly. “D-Don't do that here... The kids—”

“Kids, go inside right now!” Suddenly Nikolai shouts at them and they immediately turn to both of you. You click your tongue in annoyance, attempting to pinch his stomach, but God—his body is firm.

“Don't listen to your dad. He's being stupid again.” You reply, assuring your kids that Nikolai is just joking. Both Mari and Karol are clearly confused but Yuri has the nastiest look on his face, which makes Nikolai cracks a wheeze of laughter.

“Isn't he always stupid though?” Yuri says. Karol gasps, looking at his big brother in disbelief.

“He is?!”

“He is.”

“I don't think daddy is stupid! I think he's just... mmm... selective smart!” Mari says and Nikolai cheers. He gets to his little princess and carries her up.

“Oh, my little flower! You really are your daddy's defender! Mwah!” He kisses her cheek, making Mari giggle. You smile to yourself but your smile falters into a shriek of embarrassment when Nikolai suddenly turns to you, saying, “It's okay, love. I'll carry you like this too.” He winks.

“Stop it,” You huff but your mind is already wandering elsewhere when you are starting to imagine how nice it feels when he wraps his strong arms around you. Your face heats up and you gaze away, trying not to look at your husband's flirtatious smile any longer.

“Bell man!” Karol suddenly shouts excitedly and both you and Nikolai turn to the gate, seeing Karol waddling to see an ice cream bike passing just in front of the house. The man on the bike is ringing a bell—a gesture to attract attention.

“Karol, don't go to the road!” Nikolai barks sternly as he puts down Mari. Yuri is already on his way to hold back his little brother who is excited for some ice cream when the ice cream man parks his bike right outside your yard. Mari looks at both you and Nikolai before grinning and following his brothers, seeming to want an ice cream too.

“Well, guess I have to buy ice cream for everyone,” Nikolai mumbles to himself. “Look after them for a while, sweetheart. I'm gonna get my wallet.”

“And... get your shirt,” You playfully smacks his chest, squeezing it. “Don't wanna have those aunties gawk their eyes on my husband now, do we?”

“Possessive, I like that,” Nikolai smirks as he slaps your butt lightly. “This is all yours, honey. No one has a chance, alright?” You giggle as you shove him back lightly, urging him to get inside and get dressed. Nikolai still has that perverted grin on his face as he walks into the house.

You turn to your kids, expecting a wholesome scenery of your kids choosing ice cream for each other, but all you see is Karol standing on the bike with the ice cream man—not even Yuri or Mari is stopping him.

©doukeshi-kun 2024 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, more @/cherikolya

if you like my works, consider buy me a ko-fi!

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - Part 13

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

Word Count: 6,500

Tags/Warnings: Peril, hurt/comfort, angst, and a deal… 

Part 13: A Generous Deal

Frank, Ben’s former henchman, gave you a quirking smile.

Beside him was Loco, who tossed you a wink. He carried a semi-automatic weapon in his hands. 

“You look good, corazón,” Loco said, reaching for your sister. “Let’s get you guys out of here, no?”

“Who the hell is trying to kill us?” Louisa said, accepting his hand after you guided her up from the ground. Frank covered you all while firing back at the shooters. 

Loco snorted in amusement. “Vought. Who else?” 

“Jesus, fuck,” you muttered. “What do they want with me? It’s Ben they were after.”

“Who’s Ben?” Louisa asked. Meanwhile, Loco guided you both out of the apartment and down the stairs. Frank covered you guys from the back as he followed. 

“El capitán, Soldier Boy,” Loco supplied as he pointed to himself and Frank with his gun, “Our boss.”

“Soldier Boy?!” Louisa shot you an incredulous look. You gave her a wan smile before you glared at Loco, pointing his gun away. 

“Watch where you aim that thing,” you reminded him. Loco just scoffed. He covered you when you stepped out of the apartment building, leading you to a black SUV parked illegally on the side of the road. 

Right now, you were grateful for that as bullets seemed to rain down from everywhere. But with Frank and Loco’s expertise, the four of you made it into the car. Frank was your chauffer, and he sped off down the street.

“How the hell are you alive?” you asked Frank. “You were shot point blank in the chest.” 

“Was wearing Kevlar,” he said. “And I was on V24.”

“So he fucked those mall cops in the ass with hot lead and broke me out of prison,” Loco supplied, shooting you a grin. 

You smiled back at him, but when you looked over at your sister, gripping the inside of the car door for dear life with petrified eyes, you grabbed her hand to steady her. 

You turned back to Frank. “We need to pick up my mom. If they’re after me too, then she’s not safe.”

“Where?” he asked. You gave him the address of the hospital where your mother worked. Frank turned a corner sharply in order to change course, making you grip the car handle yourself. 

“Jesus, Frank. Go a little smoother on the wheels, yeah?” Loco quipped. 

“You want a nice kiddy ride, or you want to get there alive?” Frank retorted. “We’ve got a narrow window, even less now that we’ve got a second stop.” 

“It’s not that far. Lower West Side,” you said. And you continued to instruct him through the New York traffic. He was an adept driver, but he wasn’t a New Yorker. You pointed out the best roads to take to get there within half an hour. 

Loco stayed with Louisa in the car (albeit, first with a lot of reassuring that she would be safe with this perfect stranger that she could only suspect was a criminal).

Frank escorted you inside, where you found your mom at the reception desk (thankfully) on the first floor. Her eyes lit up when she saw you. 

“Oh my God, you’re back! How are you, sweetheart? Oh, come here,” your mother said, getting up from her desk to pull you into a hug. You accepted it with a smile, but you grabbed her shoulders firmly and made her see the sense of urgency in your eyes. 

“Mom, I need you to come with me,” you said in hushed tones. She looked around, from you to her confused coworker at the desk beside her.

“What? Honey, I can’t. I’m at work—”

“Now, Mom. I’ll explain later.”

“Marie, you going on lunch break?” asked her coworker. 

“Yep, I’m taking her out,” you supplied, looping your mother’s arm with yours. “Come on! I found this cute little French bistro a few blocks away.”

“Honey,” your mom tried to whisper. She didn’t like the look of Frank hovering beside you. He was a tall man, broad and wearing a long black trench coat—and a gun concealed within. 

“Just trust me,” you told her, gripping her hand tight.  

Somehow you made it to the car without incident. But once the five of you were on the road, with all three women squished in the backseat, Louisa turned to you. 

“So you’re actually helping Soldier Boy now?” she asked, and with a sly raise of her brow, “Or should I say Ben?”

Your face began to heat up, but you clung to your stoicism. 

“Soldier Boy,” Marie gasped. “Didn’t he kill Homelander?”

“May that prick get fucked in the ass for all eternity in hell,” you muttered. Once again, your mother gasped. 

“Young lady. I don’t like that,” she said, with all due side eye. 

“You don’t like anything, Mother,” you quipped.

“Wait, wait. You’re not getting out of this.” Louisa leaned over and grabbed your hand. “What’s the deal with you and Soldier Boy? I thought the whole point of your mission was to arrest him.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. 

“I was on the job, things went sideways, I got captured, and things got…complicated.” 

Frank huffed. “I think the kids are calling it Frenemies with Benefits.” 

Louisa uttered an incredulous laugh while simultaneously freaking the fuck out, especially at the word captured.

“Excuse me?” said Marie. You gave the man a withering look.

“Don’t help me, Frank.”

An amused smile tugged at his lips. But then it was wiped away. 

“Incoming. Three tails,” he said. Loco looked in the side mirror, and his muttered curse was a confirmation: they were being followed. 

“Where are we headed?” you asked. 

“Supe Affairs,” Frank said. He took evasive measures, banking on corners and doing his best to beat the cars tailing them through traffic. 

Until the mid-size SUV was side swiped by an even larger black one. It slammed into your side of the car, making it spin out. You all screamed as the car flipped over once and managed to land. 

You had to blink drops of blood out of your double vision, but when it cleared, you saw Black Noir had landed on the hood of the car. Your eyes widened. 

Noir raised his gun and shot through the windshield, but while Loco shot right back at him, Frank put the car into reverse—into the path of a coming bus. 

He actually sped towards it. And at the last moment, he sharply turned the car to try and fling the supe off the hood. 

It worked, somewhat. Noir was forced to stop the bus from hitting him directly, causing the front of the bus to fold up like an accordion against his hands. And while he was distracted, Loco threw a projectile at the supe’s face. 

Noir caught it with ease, but he didn’t expect the way it erupted with nerve gas in his face. Before it could affect the normal humans in the car, Frank reversed again and finally managed to dislodge the supe. 

He turned the car around and was able to get the car back into Drive, but the entire windshield was gone, and breathing felt like agony once again. If you had to guess, it was your broken ribs flaring up after the initial impact. 

Your shoulder also ached like a bitch. You didn’t think it was dislocated, but at the very least, severely bruised.

Not broken, at least, you thought bitterly. 

“Oh my God. You okay?” Louisa asked, gasping once she looked over and saw you clutching your arm.

You could also feel blood dripping over your brow and down the side of your face. Your mom also had a knock to the side of her head, but she and Louisa looked more or less fine, if scared out of their minds. 

“I’m okay,” you said, giving them a reassuring smile. You directed it at Frank next, when he glanced back at you with concern.

You fished into your pocket and found your cell phone unscathed. Letting out a relieved breath, you found Grace Mallory’s personal cell in your contacts and started the call.

She picked up on the third ring. 

“Who is this?”

“Grace, it’s me. I—”

“How did you get this number?” she asked.

“Stole it from M.M.’s phone,” you replied impatiently. “Listen, I have a situation—”

“You’re already on thin ice,” she said. “This better be fucking good.”

At that, the narrow thread of your temper snapped.

“I’m playing bumper cars with Black Noir in the Lower West Side. How’s that for fucking good?” you said, raising your voice. “He’s trying to kill me and my entire family. I need your help, right now!”

A beat of silence, and Grace replied. 

“Understood. What are the cross streets?”

“We’re in a black SUV,” you replied, and you gave her the closest streets as they passed by. “We’re heading toward the S.A.”

“Backup will arrive shortly,” she said. Then she hung up on you. 

It was a good thing too, because you lost your grip on your cell when another car bumped into the SUV, this time from the driver’s side. Your eyes widened as you saw Black Noir again, this time with a grenade launcher. 

“Heads down!” you screamed, reaching for your sister.

Just as he would’ve shot at the car, a helicopter flew overhead and shot directly at the supe. CIA units swarmed in in various cars, and it allowed Frank the distraction he needed to slip away from the supe.

Frank and Loco escorted your family to the double doors of the Supe Affairs building. You hung back real quick once they were inside, knowing the men couldn’t go in. They would likely be apprehended. 

“Thank you,” you told them. Emotion made your eyes glassy. Loco gave you a smile and rubbed your non-injured shoulder.

“Just get yourself checked out,” Frank said. He gave you a scrap of paper with two cell phone numbers on it. 

“Reach us here if anything changes,” he said. With Soldier Boy, his tone implied. You nodded and took the numbers from him. Loco left to start up the car, but you grabbed Frank’s arm, holding him back a minute.

“Why’d you come find me?” you asked. “You guys…didn’t owe me anything. You don’t even owe Ben.”

“He does technically owe us,” Frank said. 

You nodded at that. “Well, you could just cut your losses…is it that good a payout?”

His dry smile told you yes, it would be that good.  

“But that doesn’t explain me,” you pointed out.

Frank considered you, as if contemplating the reason himself. 

“We knew if Soldier Boy was going to break out, it would be because of you,” he said. “We happened to be watching you when we saw Black Noir casing your building.”

“Doesn’t totally explain why you’d risk your lives for me,” you said. 

Frank seemed uncomfortable with the question. So you let him off the hook with a smile. 

“Thank you. Again,” you said. “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

His lips curved at that. “Me too, kid.”

You ushered your mom and sister through the S.A. building, ignoring the odd and concerned looks from people going about their workday.

You knew the three of you made quite a sight, especially when your face was literally dripping blood, and your arm was pinned to your side. 

You noticed Butcher striding down the hall with M.M., and you called out to him loudly.

“Still think Black Noir isn’t a fucking priority?” you shouted.

Both men noticed you in surprise, but while Butcher was mostly curious, M.M. was concerned. You then ignored them and started guiding your family up to Grace’s office. 

As it turned out, you didn’t have to. She stepped off the elevator and led the three of you into a private office. She had already requested an on-call doctor for you, and he was there waiting with his supplies. 

Marie helped you into a chair, where you let out a shaky breath. The doctor came over to check your shoulder, during which Marie stroked your good arm and Luisa brushed your sweaty hair from your face.

“Not broken or dislocated,” he confirmed. “Just bruised. You’ll need to ice it for a few days.”

“What happened?” Grace asked at last. You met her blue-eyed gaze.

“I told you. Black Noir tried to kill us. I assume I was the target, because he found me at my apartment,” you said with a wince, rubbing at your aching ribs while the doctor wrapped your arm in a temporary sling. He next worked on blotting and stitching up your head wound, which he remarked was shallower than it seemed.

What you needed were some painkillers. 

“I want my mom and my sister placed in protective custody,” you told Grace. 

Both women protested at first. 

“What are you going to do?” Luisa asked incredulously. “You can’t do this by yourself.”

“We’ll take care of this,” you tried to reassure her. 

“And what about school? I can’t just drop out for God-knows how long.”

“I’ll talk to NYU, get them to let you complete your classes online.”

“What about me? My job isn’t so flexible,” Marie pointed out. You frowned, at a loss for what to say. Your guilt was growing by the moment; not only had your family been put in danger because of you, but their lives were about to be completely uprooted. 

“We’ll work it out with your employer as well,” Grace said. 

You gave her an appreciative look. Grace could be a bitch, but it seemed she wasn’t a complete asshole.

When you turned back to your family, hot tears welled up in your eyes and slid down your cheeks unbidden. 

“I’m so sorry,” you choked on a sob. “This is on me.”

Luisa tearfully shook her head, holding your hand. Your mom was in a similar state as she wiped your tears away. 

“I just want you to be safe,” Marie said. “Promise me you’ll be safe.” 

You nodded, but you couldn’t force yourself to lie to her this time. 

In a few hours, you saw your mother and sister off as Grace directed them into protective custody. They would be taken to a safe house tonight, and would remain there until the matter of Black Noir was settled. 

You were exhausted, in pain, and emotionally spent, and you were going to need a safe house of your own. But you agreed to spend the night here at the S.A. building, where there were cots available upstairs for when supes where occasionally held overnight. 

You debated the idea growing your mind, whether it would be good for you in this moment…

But you couldn’t help yourself. 

You had to see him. 

Your steps were slow, but you eventually made it to the “cellar.” 

The guards raised their brows at the state of you, still with dried blood, bruises, and your arm in a temporary sling. Your hard gaze warned them to mind their fucking business. 

“Open it up,” you said, raising an expectant brow. After glancing at one another, one of the guards shrugged. He pressed the button to disengage the outer walls, which parted for your entry. 

You stepped inside, this time grateful for the way those walls closed behind you. You knew the guards would be watching regardless, but the semblance of privacy was enough for you.

Ben was sitting up in his cot, back against the wall with his arms crossed. The stance was familiar to you; he was probably awake, but trying not to fall asleep due to the nerve gas making him drowsy. 

His eyes opened when he heard you coming. His mouth opened, poised to be snarky, until he actually caught sight of you. Whatever acidic words he’d been about to say died on his tongue as he took in your injuries, from stitched and bandaged head to your arm in a sling. 

He got up and approached you, until only the glass separated you two by a few feet. 

“What the fuck happened?” he asked. His voice was gruff, but you thought you detected concern behind his green eyes. 

“Black Noir,” you rasped.

You explained to him what happened from the very beginning. Your sister showing up at your apartment, followed by Noir shooting at you, then Frank and Loco showing up to extract you from the building.

“Those fuckers are still alive?” Ben noted with surprise. You could see that he was pleased by the news, and you smiled. 

“Yeah, they saved me,” you admitted. But then, your lips trembled. “Black Noir tried to take me out. Me and my whole family.”

Ben watched you tear up, his jaw tightening. The fury lighting in his blood gave him new energy as he contemplated just how slowly and painfully he’d take Stan Edgar apart for this. He had no right to sick that damn bootlicker on you. 

And probably just to get to him.

Ben began to pace. He had no other way to vent his frustration, other than hurling up his cot against the wall with a guttural sound of rage. (Which he did, not seeing how it made you flinch.)

He was in this cage, and meanwhile, you were out there. Unprotected. Taking bullets that should be his…and his alone. 

He wiped a hand over his mouth and looked back at you. You were wide-eyed, vulnerable, not sure what to make of his reaction. 

Ben wanted to continue blaming you for his imprisonment…but deep down, he knew you weren’t the one who put him here. He also knew why you wouldn’t break him out either. 

You were stubborn about your convictions—something that frustrated him to no end. But ultimately, he admired you for how you always held your ground, even against him. 

Especially against him.

But right now, you looked exhausted, in pain. He just couldn’t do anything about it. And that irritated him, he discovered.

“Did your dad order the hit?” he asked. “Stan said he was still alive.”

You tilted your head, like you hadn’t thought of that before. Despite your lingering tears, your expression briefly became cold as stone.  

“If my father knew about this, he’s a dead man,” you said.  

Ben inclined his head in agreement. It looked like even you had a limit on what was forgivable.

You sighed and stepped closer to the cell. You implored him, first with your eyes, and then with the truth. 

“Ben, I need your help,” you said. “As long as Stan Edgar and Vought still stand, it’s a target on your back. Now it’s on mine too. My mom, and my sister. Please.” 

Ben seemed to consider it, as his gaze left your face. 

Then, he came up closer to the glass window. 

“Call your boss. Tell her it’s time for a talk,” he said. 

You sighed in relief, covering your eyes with a hand as your tears fell anew. You looked up at Ben, trying and failing to get ahold of yourself. 

“Thank you,” you said.

Ben’s anger crumbled that much more. He sighed and pressed a fist up to the glass on his side to lean against it. You laid a hand against the glass, opposite his. 

His eyes met yours. As resentment drained out of him, slowly, his fingers uncurled. 

His hand laid on the glass in line with your smaller hand. You could almost pretend the window didn’t exist between you, and the cold glass under your palm was really his. A moment later, Ben let his hand fall and returned to his cot. 

Soon, you wanted to tell him. 

You would make sure of it. 

Grace’s heels clacked on the metal ground as the fortified barriers disengaged, allowing her entrance into the observing area of Soldier Boy’s cell. 

The man himself looked up at her from where he sat on his cot, his hair falling over his brows. He straightened and stood, and he met her at the forefront of the cell.

She stopped a foot behind the glass and crossed her arms. Ben’s gaze seized her up lazily—the gray pantsuit and white blouse, the coif of blonde hair piled on her head, the light layer of lipstick across her thin lips. She looked even less fun now than she had in the 80s. 

“You’ve gotten old as fuck,” he remarked. 

“As I hear it, a few wrinkles don’t bother you in the slightest,” she countered. 

His lips curved. He’d never fuck this broad on mere principle, but she was still easy on those baby blues. 

“So,” she began, “Two options. One: you can sleep in here forever, until you look as old as I am. Or two: you’ll work with my team to bring down Vought, on our terms. Which means executing approved targets only. Collateral damage kept to a narrow minimum.”

Her gaze was unyielding, clinical at best. 

“Operate within the confines of the law. And if by some miracle you pull all of that off…you can publicly retire to South America, never to step foot in the U.S. again,” she said.

“We will leave you alone, provided you don’t actively create havoc. And if you deviate from the plan in any way, we will hunt you down and bring you right back here. You will never know peace.”

Ben stared at her, almost amused at her audacity. “That’s your idea of a goddamn deal?”

She ignored him, her expression turning thoughtful. 

“Oh, yes,” Grace said, a finger tapping on her arm, as if she just remembered something. She mentioned your name, making Ben’s brows furrow.

“Should you fuck up your end of this generous deal, I will also personally make sure that you never see her again,” she said. 

Ben’s jaw tensed, his green eyes narrowing a fraction. 

But he figured his best play here was to bluff.

“What makes you think I give a flying fuck about that?” he said snidely. 

For the first time, a bit of humor lightened Grace as her mouth tugged at a smile.

“Actually, it seems you do. And a great deal of one,” she said. “That you’re considering this agreement at all is because of her.”

Ben’s lips pressed together.

“The fact of the matter is, Benjamin, I can make her disappear,” she stated, “even more thoroughly than I’ll bury you if you cross me.”

That threat nearly unhinged him. A vein pulsed in his neck as he ground his teeth.

But he managed to keep his cool, smooth as he crossed his arms and stared back at this platinum-haired bitch. 

“See, you can talk big behind that glass. But the truth is, you need me,” he said. “All you bitches do. And you’re all afraid of me. So if you want to threaten me, by all means…just don’t forget who the fuck I am.” 

M.M. carefully watched the archive footage from yesterday between you and Ben from his laptop. He saw the shift in the supe when you walked in, battered with your arm in a temporary sling. M.M. watched the man’s anger build, but for you instead of at you. 

By the time he made it to the end, watching Ben’s hand meet yours on his side of the glass, M.M. sat back in his seat and frowned, resting his chin in his hand. What the hell…

Maybe Soldier Boy did give a fuck about someone other than himself. 

M.M.’s phone buzzed, breaking him out of his reverie. It was Grace. 

“Yeah?” he answered.

“Team meeting,” she said, instructing him to head up to a conference room on the third floor in ten minutes. Sighing, M.M. closed his laptop and made his way up.

Annie and Hughie were already there, followed by Frenchie and Kimiko, and finally Butcher, strolling in to make his entrance as always. 

You were the only one not in attendance, having gone back to full-time in the Surveillance department. Though considering what happened yesterday with Black Noir, he was surprised you weren’t here…

But once Grace started the meeting, explaining what had become of her meeting with Soldier Boy, M.M.’s already precarious mood darkened even further. 

“It’s an insane fucking deal,” Butcher agreed, breaking the steely silence of the room following Grace’s little report. “But it’s one we’ve made before.”

“You’ve made before,” Annie retorted. “This is crazy. We can’t trust Soldier Boy.”

“But we all know who does,” M.M. said. His gaze shifted to the door, where you had just stepped in. It seemed you were invited to the meeting after all.

You were late, quite literally holding Starbucks. It looked like a caramel macchiato, iced, light froth. You sipped it through a green straw and took a seat beside Frenchie, who offered you a smile as he smoked a cigarette. You returned it before you addressed the group.

“Take my personal stake out of the equation,” you said. 

“So you admit it’s personal,” M.M. remarked. You shot him a glance, but you didn’t let him deter you from your point. 

“Ben is our best play against Black Noir. That’s just a fact,” you said. “He was cloned in part with Homelander’s DNA.” 

“Okay, sure,” Hughie said. “Despite all the…potential logistics problems there, what about Stan Edgar? He’s been one step ahead of us this entire time.”

That was a fair point, one you acknowledged with a nod. 

“I think we should look into Victoria Neuman. She turned on Stan once to protect herself, who’s to say she won’t again?” you said. 

“Or, she’ll pop our heads like water balloons,” Frenchie pointed out, letting out a puff of his cigarette. Hughie frowned and waved his hand across the plume.

“Do you have to do that right in my face?” he asked. Frenchie blew a kiss (and a small ring of smoke) at Hughie with a playful smirk. 

Again, you smiled. “Ben can help with that too.” 

Most of them didn’t like the idea. Annie and Kimiko frowned, while Hughie looked unsure. Frenchie might’ve been persuaded…

Butcher actually seemed to agree with you, shockingly. He looked over at M.M., whose stance in all this was obvious.

“You wanna make things safe for your daughter, taking out Vought is fucking it,” Butcher said. It wasn’t what you expected him to say…but maybe the men had had this argument before. 

M.M. was tense, his hand clenching into a fist on the conference table. 

“You don’t have to tell me that shit,” M.M. said tersely. He looked up at Mallory. “I’m assuming as a part of this fuck-ass deal, Soldier Boy walks free after all this is said and done?”

Grace confirmed this with a short nod, though you could see she wasn’t happy about it either. 

“After the work is done, he won’t be allowed to step foot in the U.S. again,” she said. 

You frowned, upset at that little footnote, but you held in your reaction as you watched M.M. rise out of his seat, his chair roughly sliding against the ground. He dented the table with a heavy fist as he strode out of the conference room.  

Ben rolled his eyes as he took the contract. It had been laid on the tray compartment where his meals were usually slotted through.

You, Grace, and Butcher stood on the other side of his cell. You also thought the contract was stupid; you all knew if Ben didn’t comply with this arrangement, a measly piece of paper wasn’t going to do shit. But Mallory was nothing if not thorough. 

He signed it with the pen and shoved both back through the slot. Mallory collected it and turned at Butcher, and then you with her sharp eyes. 

“On your head be it,” she said. Then she departed the cell, where the additional fortifying walls were left open. With a raised brow, Butcher signaled to the guards to cut the nerve gas. 

Once the mist cleared from the inner cell, Ben took his first real breath in a week. He blinked as the heavy fog he’d been resisting for days cleared, and he stood straighter. His green eyes were on you as the cell finally disengaged, sliding open with a hiss. 

You bit your lower lip as he stepped through barefooted. He still wore the clinically white clothing the S.A. provided, like he was the inmate of a psych ward or something. He eyed Butcher warily.

“Ello, gov. Back in business again,” said the Brit. Ben rolled his eyes. 

“Just stay out of my fucking way,” he replied. 

You wanted to pull him into your arms already. But professionalism be damned, you didn’t want to show your vulnerability around Butcher.

Instead, you held up a plastic bag of clothes and shoes for him to change into, meeting him with a smile. The tightness in his face eased a bit when he glanced over at you, then took the bag with a nod.

“Hungry?” you asked. 

Ben’s lips curved into a smirk. “I could eat.” 

You felt heat flare in your face as your mouth dropped open slightly.

Butcher rose a brow as he glanced between you two. He chose to ignore the supe’s blatant eye-fucking. He just wanted to get this over with.

“First off, let’s get something squared away,” Butcher said. 

He then turned his head and released a wet cough that didn’t sound pleasant. The man also looked pale, and if you thought about it, he hadn’t been looking well in the meeting earlier either. You gave him a concerned frown.

“You okay?” you asked. Butcher gave you a side glance.

“Fucking phenomenal. Here.”

He provided Ben with an S.A.-issued cell phone, and you with the address of a safe house.

“His and hers,” Butcher said, handing you the keys. You understood his meaning; since Black Noir was after you as well, it made enough sense to put you and Ben in the same safe house.

“Now, lest you think of pulling another Houdini act, it won’t hurt to remind you that you will be watched,” he said to both of you (but mainly Ben). “I myself, along with other agents, will be checking in from time to time, making sure everything’s on the up and up.”

“Whatever, are we fucking done?” Ben snapped with impatience. He started walking out of the cellar, towards the open door that showed the brighter lit hallway. Once he stepped out though, he wasn’t sure where to go. 

You gave Butcher a parting look before you caught up with Ben in the hall. You laid a hand on his arm and led him to the nearest bathroom so he could change while you waited outside. You texted with the agent that would be your driving detail, making sure the car would be ready. 

After a few minutes of waiting though, you began to get antsy and impatient yourself. You went to the bathroom door and knocked, opening it a crack. 

“Ben, you okay?”

“Yeah. Come in,” he said. 

You paused, not sure if that was a good idea. But you also didn’t know why that was your instinctive thought.

Taking a breath to steady yourself, you hesitantly opened the door to the men’s bathroom and stepped inside. Ben was already dressed, just fixing his belt.

He wore a pair of dark wash jeans, a plain black shirt, and some boots. It wasn’t his normal look, but even this suited him well. He stretched out the shirt in all the right places, particularly the arms. 

But you blushed as you noticed the smirk on his face; he’d totally caught you checking him out. 

“Well, that answers my question,” he remarked.

Your lips flickered at a smile as you drew closer. 

Looks good, you were about to tell him, but nothing came out. Your voice got stuck in your throat as you looked up at him. It seemed this moment was finally hitting you. 

There was still so much unknown shit on the horizon, between Black Noir, Victoria Neuman, Stan Edgar, your family in protective custody, and all the rest. But at least you had helped accomplish one thing today. 

Your eyes stung as they welled up with tears, and you bit your bottom lip to keep it from wobbling. 

The smirk on Ben’s face faded. But then his brose rose in surprise as you surged forward and caught him in a hug. Your arms slipped around his middle, and his arms fell around your frame, mostly on instinct. 

When he felt your tears dampening his shirt, heard you crying softly, felt the tremble in your body, he collected you tighter against him, his hands splaying across your back. Something in his chest clenched up…but then it eased. He dropped his lips to your hair. 

“What’s this now?” he asked, somewhat teasing. You shook your head against his chest, not willing to answer. His hand fell to your waist and gave you a squeeze. 

“Come on, baby doll,” he said. He grinned a little, though you couldn’t see it. “Where’s that steely bitch who didn’t cut me any fucking slack this week?”    

You choked on a laugh, despite the tears still slipping down your cheeks. 

“She’s a good actor,” you replied. Ben chuckled and soothed a hand over your hair. It gave you hope that he didn’t resent you too much. You were just so damn relieved. 

“I’m sorry this couldn’t happen sooner,” you whispered. You weren’t sorry for not breaking ranks to get him out, but he had to know you’d never wanted him to go from one cage to another.

Ben’s grin faded. He stayed quiet, unsure of what to say to you. 

After a moment, your cell phone chimed and buzzed in your pocket. Sniffling, you pulled away from him enough to reach into your pocket and read the text. 

“The driver’s ready to take us to the safe house,” you said, pocketing your phone. But you still clung to his shirt with your other hand. You were also avoiding his gaze. Embarrassed, maybe.

It made him smile. He tugged a strand of hair behind your ear, prompting you to finally look up at him. He then bucked a gentle fist under your chin. 

It got a small smile on your face, because you knew then that he didn’t hate you. The rage and contempt he’d levied at you this week, it hadn’t been the real him. This was the man you’d held out for…the man you’d caught glimmers of over the past two months. 

Ben cleared his throat.

“Well. You ready, sweetheart?” he asked, raising a brow. You nodded and let go of him, wiping your face to make sure it was dry before you stepped outside. 

Once the two of you left the bathroom, you led him out of the S.A. building. The car was waiting, another mid-sized SUV, and the driver transported you both to the safe house, which looked like it was going to be outside the city. 

Makes sense, you thought. You turned to Ben, who sat with you in the back. 

“How do you feel?” you asked. Still drowsy? 

He didn’t look it. The moment the Novichok cleared the cell, he seemed to regain his faculties. Now, you were more concerned about the potential psychological effects. You were worried about how the past week might’ve set him back.

But Ben only gave you a wry curve of his lips.

“Like a million bucks,” he replied. His gaze roamed over you, noting your healing cuts and bruises from the car chase yesterday. 

“You’re not wearing the sling,” he commented. You rubbed your bruised shoulder. 

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you said, downplaying a little. 

Pain meds were doing wonders for you though. Frenchie had slipped you some of the “good stuff” this morning, which had the added benefit of chilling you out for hours. You had come off it a while ago, but you had some normal painkillers in your suitcase. 

You’d been escorted home to collect some of your things, and the suitcase now laid in the trunk. You felt bad that Ben didn’t have anything but the clothes on his back…but you were sure the CIA would provide other things for him once you two got to the safe house. 

Ben surprised you, however, by thumbing an outline around the butterflied cut on your head as he examined it. “Doesn’t look deep.”

“It’s not,” you agreed, blushing a little. “I’m fine, Ben.”

His gaze found yours then, sharp as always. His mouth twitched. 

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he said. His voice was a rumble, deep and filled with promise. Your cheeks warmed further as you tilted your head at him. 

“What does that mean?” you asked. A smile started to tug at your lips. 

Ben just smirked and crossed his arms, facing the road ahead. You eyed him, but a trill of anticipation ran down your spine. 

It seemed like a small eternity until you reached the safe house, several miles out into Upstate New York. It was a modest, one-story house in the middle of a gated community. 

The outside walls were painted beige with a brown trim. The driveway paved with cobblestone, with a little walkway flanked by small bushes with little red flowers. It was the perfect unassuming place to house the most famous supe alive.  

The driver left you with your bags, which Ben grabbed before you could barely reach out your good arm. He flashed you a grin and waited for you to unlock the front door. 

“Home sweet home,” you breathed as you stepped past the threshold. Your hands fell to your hips while you surveyed your surroundings. 

Behind you, the suitcase and the small duffel bag dropped to the floor. You started to turn towards him, but apparently you weren’t fast enough on the uptake—as Ben hooked an arm around your waist and spun you around.

Before you could even blink, your back was pressed against the door. You’d clung to him on instinct as a gasp fell from your lips. But you looked up into Ben’s smirk, his heated eyes filled with desire, and maybe a flash of relief. 

You felt it too. The sweet craving fulfilled of finally being alone, as he claimed you with a kiss. You made a sound of pleasure, of acceptance as your hand rose to his cheek. 

Your fingers soon slid into his hair as you tilted your head, deepening the kiss. 

Ben braced himself against the door hard enough to shake it on its hinges. It was all you could do to hold onto his arms as his knee pressed between your legs, finding friction against your jeans.

Being with him was a relief, you discovered. And having him inside you was starting to feel like home.

AN: 😏 I know, I'm terrible for ending it there, huh? What did you think of their little reunion here?

Don't worry though, next chapter is the real reunion.

Next Time:

“You need a trim,” you said, letting out a breathy laugh. You kissed his cheek again. Slow, and with purpose. 

Ben let out a sigh through his nose. His eyes closed again at your gentler kisses, your touch. Maybe he reveled in this—being able to hold you back. It felt right. 

If he was honest with himself (and this time, he was), you were somehow able to ease the frayed edges of his mind. Edges that had been starting to unravel in that cell. 

Keep Reading: PART 14

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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[leonardospoetry]

And there is the thing that one does, the needle one plies, the work, and within that work a chance to take thoughts that are hot and formless and to place them slowly and with meticulous effort into some shapely heat-retaining form, even as the gods, or nature, or the soundless wheels of time have made forms all across the soft, curved universe—that is to say, having chosen to claim my life, I have made for myself, out of work and love, a handsome life.

Mary Oliver

[dumpsterdivingpossums]

I made an M.J for Hobie’s universe

here some info on them

Their intersex, they like going by they/them pronouns since it’s more comfortable for them but they definitely do not mind others referring them as something else

Their full name is

Milani jeen wiltz, but either go by Mil jeen or M.J

Their grandparents went to start a better life however after  a few decades after their parents went out to live in Britain due to economic reasons and also spread the word of the black panther party. Mil would be 7 around this time (I did the math, since Hobie is either around 20 or 19 and the date he was arrested in was around 1978 in one of the flashbacks to his intro. We can assume that he was born around near the end of the 50s so I made Mil’s date if birth 1959.)

Mil is of Haitian descent and is fluent in creole so half the time they’ll be speaking in creole

As I mentioned their parents are activists due to them being in the Black panther party, Mil did develop this trait from both of their parents and became involved in activism as well, mostly protest art and civil rights. 

(Originally I was going to make them the prowler for Hobie’s dimension but I decided against it but I will put subtle hint here and there to reference that when I make art of them.)

Around the time Hobie became Spider punk is when they met Hobie. A few months after he killed osborn. They had become a big fan of him after the incident and looked up to him a lot, kinda freaking out Hobie due to the fact he barely became Spiderman.

However they started hanging around eacj other more, going on little platonic graffiti dates. He did eventually reveal his Identity to them and they immediately fell in love with him. And 4 years after they’re still together, and are both still dumbasses 

Fun facts:

 Mil is Polyamorous but like quad dynamics more (ahem *taps on mic* is involved with spider noir and possibly my spider sona as well. Blame Hobie.)

They love making arts and crafts and do love engineering as well. Mostly helping Hobie with his new invention ideas. 

They own a daisy rock heartbreaker guitar in hot red, since the brand came out in 2000 logically this wouldn’t be possible without Hobie’s dimension hopping watch, so due to this Hobie went into one of the peter parker dimensions to get this for them for an anniversary present.

They do not live with Hobie however do live near the docks to be closer to Hobie’s house boat.

They love different genres of musical c and fashion mostly being punk,goth and earthy/bohemian music. 

Main colors of emotions are mostly pink, grey, yellow and purple. Most of these are due to the one around them. Pink and Purple are mainly because of Hobie or Spider noir Peter parker.

Love roller skating around places and even put in wheels in their mary janes

That’s all for now, I’m still deciding some of their personality traits but yeah.

Also baby them.

[marislittleworld]

TEKU Mari finished! Hope you'll like it :)

Acceleracers Mari info:

Full name: Maria da Silva Oliveira

Nickname: Mari; Marizinha

Age: 19 years old

Car: Mercy Breaker

Team: TEKU team

I'm going to make the Metal Maniacs version for her. Also new things are coming up, like her fanfic!! And I did the Coast version

[thedeviltohisangel]

All The Things I Did (4): The Only Thing That I See

a/n: ok this is the one i warned you guys was horny but i'm sure its actually to our benefit. this is setting up the next couple big plot pieces: harding's arrival and his past with cass, john demoting himself to fly again, cass' next mission and a whole lot more. happy to chat about any of it//we had a great little sleepover in my inbox and i saved a couple to answer over the next few days. more interludes in the chute, submissions still open, and a new masterpost pinned to my blog. happy reading!

When Mary knocked on Cass’ door before the sun was out and warned her it was pancakes for breakfast, it meant the men were flying today. She was looking forward to this raid in particular as the coordinates for the U-boat pens had been passed to her by a new potential source during a previous trip to Belgium. Surveillance planes had confirmed their location but it meant that Colonel Huglin would want her to brief prior to wheels up. John wasn’t flying but he would be watching. She wanted to impress him. Offer him a little bit of insight into the work that she did. Show him the bumps and bruises were worth it if it brought the war to an end even a moment sooner.

He wasn’t outside waiting for her to get breakfast and her heart fell but she knew he was busy. A piece of her was curious what John Egan, Air Exec behaved like. She imagined he was more stoic and held quite the presence. Or maybe he was exactly the same and more of a pain in the Colonel’s side than anything else. Cass smiled to herself as she walked toward the HQ offices. Yeah, that definitely seemed more like her John.

----

He was rifling through papers when she entered the bullpen, calling out headings to the navigators and dodging orderlies delivering cups of coffee. She dropped her jacket off at her desk without anyone noticing and approached the map with small airplanes meant to simulate the raid. 

“A few degrees to the east, gentleman. Otherwise, you’ll miss the last loading dock.” Her fingers nudged the group of planes in the correct direction then she stepped back and let the stares wash over her. Deep breaths, Cass. You know you’re right.

“Gentlemen, surely you’ve all at least heard of Lieutenant Cooper. She is the one responsible for locating these pens for today’s raid.” Some of them nodded with respect, others rolled their eyes or scoffed. Most of them seemed ambivalent. 

“I’ll be at my desk should any questions arise, Colonel.” Yet all of them could agree on staring at her backside as she walked away. 

“You make a habit out of embarrassing the brass the morning of a raid?” She paused her typing with a smile and walked around her desk to meet him in the doorway. There were wildflowers behind his back and she gripped his chin to pull him down for a kiss. 

“Good morning, Major.” John hummed with pleasure before going back in for one, two, three more kisses. 

“Morning, doll.” His voice was huskier at this hour than she was used to. It sparked right between her legs. “You thought I forgot?” He produced the flowers from behind his back and handed them to her. As she did every morning, she brought them to her nose and blushed like a schoolgirl. 

“First mission as Air Exec. Wouldn’t have blamed you if you did.” John stepped deeper into her office, closing the door behind him, as she tucked the latest bouquet into a vase on her desk that was already filled with his previous gifts. 

“Would feel better if I was going up as a squadron commander.” 

“You would say that.” Cass jumped up onto her desk, welcoming John between her legs with some light scratches on the back of his neck. “I, for one, am happy you’ve got two feet on the ground today.”

“That’s very selfish of you, Lieutenant Cooper.” He stepped closer and kissed her slow. Deliberate. Decisive. Dangerous. He kissed her like he flew. “I’ll stop flying when you stop spooking.”

“But then I wouldn’t get to see you all hot and bothered over my well being again.” John licked his lips as she fiddled with the knot of his tie. Cass wasn’t sure what was coming over her if not, just simply, the allure of John Egan. They had claimed each other publicly. All that was left was privately. 

“Did that turn you on, Cass?” She nodded, pressing her chest against his as her tongue slipped between his lips and stirred an ache within him. “Do you like that they could walk in on us at any time?”

“Fuck, John.” Her lips moved to the column of his throat and he groaned at the nipping of her teeth. She was tempted to have him take her right there on the desk. He was tempted too. Wanted to rip those thin, tantalizing panty hose from her legs and hike her skirt around her waist. Had fantasized how soft the skin of her thighs would be. What she would taste like. How she would sound as he worked her over the edge again and again and again. 

“Cass, baby, I want you so bad.” She was intoxicating. A siren at sea. At this moment, he was powerless to deny her anything. 

“Then take me, sir.” God, he could die a happy man. He was pushing her skirt up her legs, Cass spreading them wider as she leaned back onto the desk and pulled John down with her when there was a knock on the door. 

“Major Egan? Lieutenant Cooper?” Cass collapsed onto her back, panting with pent up tension, John catching himself with his hands on either side of her head. 

“Just a minute,” John called. He dropped his sweaty forehead to her shoulder in defeat before standing to his full height. His mouth ran dry with a tease of lace, Cass tugging her skirt down to hide it from his starving eyes. 

“You like lace. Noted.”

“I think I’d like anything that was on you.” He grabbed her hands and tugged her closer. “Or off you.” No longer able to control herself around John Egan, she stood on his toes and pressed up into his lips once more. 

“Major Egan-”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” John stormed to the door and threw it open. “Private, I said we needed a minute.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” Cass chuckled as he scurried away, adjusting her jacket and grabbing her briefing materials from the drawer. 

“Don’t go scaring them, John. We need young men to want to stay in.” 

“He’ll be fine. I’ll apologize when your spell has worn off a bit.” 

“Oh? There you go with that witch motif again.” He followed her out of the office, out of the building and into the daylight. 

“Has to be some kind of explanation for the way you’ve got me wrapped your finger like this.” She stopped and turned to face him.

“Maybe it’s love, Major.” His retort went right back down his throat. How the fuck did she know? He had tried to say it the other night but had since thought better of it. He couldn’t risk scaring her off. 

“Maybe.” She read the yes behind his maybe. 

“Maybe,” she repeated, whispering. “We should go inside.” John nodded, stepping closer and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I just need one more minute.” It was a moment John had never really thought about. The moment you realize the woman you love, loves you right back. He wanted to engrave it in his mind, heart and soul. Never forget this feeling with her. Carry it with him until he didn’t have to be afraid of losing it anymore. “Cass? You mean a lot to me, you know that?” 

“We’ll make it through this, John. Together.” He kissed her one last time before heading, because how could he help himself, the sound of together silencing all the doubt in his mind. If only for a little while.

----

Cass sat quietly along the side of the room as Colonel Huglin unveiled the target for today’s mission and the unfortunate low-low position that the 100th would take. She looked around and tried to read if any of the men seemed nervous or had any understanding of what was about to happen to them. They were doing a good job of keeping it all at bay. 

Eventually her eyes landed on John as they always did. He had recovered from their earlier tryst remarkably quickly. Cass was nearly positive she would need to replace her undergarments at the first available instance. Looking at him now only added to her need to shift and adjust in her seat. Back home, men were either ruggedly handsome and good with their hands or politely coiffed and intellectually impressive. For John Egan to somehow embody both was a figment of all her desires. 

He caught her staring out of the corner of his eyes. Offered her a smirk and would have blown a kiss if he wasn’t sitting in the front row. As if she could read his mind, she blew a kiss of her own. John pretended to catch it and slip it into his pocket. 

“Our intelligence officer, Lieutenant Cooper, will take it from here before Captain Becker delivers the weather.” Cass stood to the sound of whistles and cheers, a low chant of ‘Spook’ spreading throughout the room. John smiled but kept his decorum. Though that blush on her cheeks was going to make him go mad.

“Thank you for the warm welcome, gentlemen. Lights please.” The room plunged into darkness save for the screen she was using to deliver her brief. “Please note there are both naval and ground based anti-aircraft assets located along the Frisian Islands. Towards the mainland, you can expect concentrated flak from here all the way down to Bremen. Sources tell me they are radar enabled so they will have the capability to track you.” A hand shot up in the crowd.

“Ma’am? What kind of artillery are we looking at?” 

“88 and 105.” She paused to see if there was follow up before continuing. “The most important aspect is your target to the northwest of Bremen if I could have the target map, please.”

There were no further questions, John standing to the side while she presented the bombardiers and navigators with supplemental files for the run. She didn’t offer them luck or tell them to fly safe. Just told them to remember their training and stick to the headings she had given them. Anything else would be empty words.

“I think they were very thoroughly briefed, don’t you?” Cass laughed as she gathered her maps and placed them back in her folder. 

“Surprised I do more than run around Europe and get shot?” John looked at his shoes sheepishly but his jovial tone seemed to have slipped away.

“Shouldn’t joke about getting shot, Cass. Kind of scared me when that happened.” She touched his cheek gently. 

“Once they all take off and you’re done being a leader of men, you can sit and read my report if you like. I’m positive your imagination is worse than the truth.” At least, she hoped it was. “You should go talk to Buck. Give him some parting thoughts.”

“You’re the one who told me there are no words to describe it.”

“Not to warn him or guide him. Just remind him why he’s going up there today and why he will again every time after.” His smile was tight lipped. Her words were very carefully chosen to not reflect the truly dire nature of their circumstances. He appreciated her for it. She held onto that quality as long as she could. Beyond the German surrender and the atomic bomb and the curiosity with what came next. But one day she would have to break. And she knew John would be there. He’d always be there. Had to.

----

It was a couple hours later when he found her again. She looked like she was fighting sleep from behind her typewriter. John couldn’t help but admire the sight, almost regretting the gentle rap of his knuckles on her door. 

“Leader of men here for Lieutenant Cooper.” She acknowledged his presence with a smile but kept her chin in her hand. “One plane back with mechanical issues. Just a waiting game.” 

“You’re not good at patiently waiting, are you?” 

“I think I’m being pretty patient with you. With us,” he added as he motioned around them. “An impatient man would have taken advantage of your offer this morning.” Cass scoffed and sat up. Good. John liked when she was at her full capacity to spar with him. Sometimes, he said something just to get her to banter. 

“You only didn’t because of that poor man that knocked on the door!”

“Well, he’s not here now.” 

“So, what’s stopping you?” She looked at him expectantly. As if she was actually curious if he would just sweep her desk clean and take her right then and there. She would let him. 

“Time. Need to make sure there’s no limit to how long I can take.” Cass liked the sound of that. John taking his time to work her up and up then over. Not just once. Maybe not even twice. She knew what she would be thinking about all night.

“A consolation prize then?” There was a red folder dangling from her fingertips. “It can’t leave this room.” John took it, taking a seat with enough distance from her to keep his head clear of sinful thoughts. 

She typed away quietly as he read, something domestic about the whole thing that made them both incandescently happy, only the occasional grunt of concern or impressed hum slipping from his mouth. 

“They teach you how to do all this at spook school?” 

“Most of it. Some just has to be instinctual. Kind of like your piloting. There is only so much to learn in a training environment before the real thing has to take place.” He looked down and reread the lines about the information she had received. How she had written the tangible impact these identifiers would have on the war. Wanted to skip over the part where the local police followed her after her meeting. How they turned her in and she took a beating but convinced the interrogators she was just lost. How she made her tourniquet out of ripped cotton and a stick. 

“Cass, you’re fucking incredible, you know that?” 

“It’s always nice to have a handsome man tell me.” Their thoughts matching, she met him on the other side of her desk and accepted his kiss eagerly. 

“We always find ourselves here,” he said with a sigh, her cheek fitting in his palm and his thumb resting on the top of her cheekbone. 

“Are you complaining?” 

“Never.” He leaned back in, ready to seal the world off once more, when the sirens ran off. The planes were back. And with them, the real world.

[acceleracers-baby]

HOLY SHIT THIS IS SO GOOD!!! I’m obsessed!!

Y’all I swear this Avatar/Hot Wheels brain rot will be the death of me 😩

Am I crazy or do these dudes look similar??? Maybe they just give off similar vibes???

[loserlesbianlottie]

can you do travnat x reader in the wilderness about how they’re overprotective of reader and she gets hurt or smth so they’re worried sick and take care of her? (you can do a fic, thought, hcs or whatever you prefer)🩷

of course! this idea kinda got away from me so if it’s not to your liking just lmk and i’ll rewrite it :3

Overprotective

travis martinez x reader x natalie scatorcio, fluff and general silliness, fem! (or at least fem! implied) reader, they’re so cutie pie i might die, both trav and nat agree that you’re a princess lol

It had started innocently enough. You had begged Natalie and Travis to take you hunting with them, feeling slightly left out due to their constant excursions and your staying at the cabin, and they agreed. Buzzing with excitement, you did everything right to prepare. You made sure all of your chores were done (and some of Jackie’s, too, because while she was a great soccer captain, that girl was absolutely shit at surviving,) and informed everyone that you would be tagging along the following day. You playfully rolled your eyes when Mari made a snide remark about Travis and Nat finally getting some work done with a third wheel around (it seemed no one had noticed that you three had been involved for quite some time now) and gratefully accepted a pocket knife from Coach Ben to help in any way you could.

Nat fondly rolled her eyes as she waited for you to get fully dressed early in the morning. You smiled gleefully at her as you walked with her over to where Travis waited, preparing their backpacks and supplies.

“You look nice,” Nat observes, “Going somewhere?”

You smile at her cheekily before responding simply, “Got a hot date.”

She snorts, bumping her shoulder against yours. Travis notices the two of you and smiles softly before grabbing his backpack and handing Nat hers. You see that you don’t get one and pout silently. Travis chuckles at your expression.

“We only need so many supplies,” he clarifies, and you nod. You supposed that made sense. The three of you make your way into the forest. “Plus, you’re too much of a princess to carry anything heavy.”

You gasp in offense, slapping Travis’ hand away from where it once resided on your shoulder while he laughs. You look to Nat for help, but she’s laughing too. Traitor.

“And here I was, trying to look cute for you guys…you’re both so mean to me,” you whine, making the two laugh harder.

“Sorry, princess,” Nat rasps, “But hunting isn’t exactly the glamorous date I think you're expecting.” You huff in equal amounts of annoyance and amusement.

Hunting starts well. You find that you’re the perfect scorekeeper for their game of who can catch more, and you’re helping carry a good portion of their animals. It’s nice. It feels good to finally have alone time with your girlfriend and boyfriend, away from the prying eyes of the team who’d likely judge you all. It’s nice. It's so nice that you don't even stop to consider that you should probably sit and rest now and then, considering how badly you twisted your ankle in the crash. You don’t notice until the three of you are well into the woods, and, not wanting to waste precious hunting time, you decide to tough it out.

It becomes a problem when Travis and Nat begin a harmless game of tag. They’re messing with each other, and it’s cute until they spot you. They nod at each other in silent agreement and run to you, making you yelp and turn the other way. You begin running, and while it doesn’t feel the greatest, it’s manageable until you trip and fall over a tree root.

You fall unceremoniously on the ground with a groan and a string of curse words. You expect some concern, but don't expect them both to be on top of you in seconds. Travis is holding your hand, apologizing profusely, while Nat observes you. She looks extremely guilty.

“Guys, I- I’m fine,” you whimper, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. Nat presses a kiss to your forehead. “Really, it was just an accident.”

“We should’ve been more careful,” Travis murmurs apologetically, rubbing his thumb over your hand protectively.

Then, before you know it, Nat picks you up bridal style. You sputter in embarrassment, but Nat shushes you with a chaste kiss. Travis moves and picks up the game you were carrying, and while it's a bit much for one person, he doesn’t seem to care. Okay. This was happening.

You all arrive back at the cabin slightly early. Everyone’s surprised to see you back so soon, but they seem content when they realize that Travis and Nat have caught something. Natalie brings you over by Misty, who checks out your leg and scolds you for putting weight on it so soon after it was sprained. You nod along, fully intending to ignore her, but soon find out that isn’t possible. Nat and Travis follow her rules for your ankle’s health.

They ensure you stay sitting, ice your ankle, and move to do almost anything for you. When Van makes a lighthearted joke about you tripping (one that you were about to laugh at), they both snap at her. You blink in surprise and assure them it was only a joke, but they’re both still clearly on edge.

When no one else is in the cabin, either off doing chores or enjoying the warm weather as much as a soccer team crashed in the middle of nowhere can, you pull them back into soft, loving kisses, reassuring them that it wasn’t their fault. They nod, stroking your hair and kissing your forehead. They claim they have something important to discuss and leave you alone for a little bit. You pout as you sit in the cabin, fully aware that they’ll likely never take you hunting again.

[ultrone]

possessive!jackie. thoughts?

💐 ⨟ 𓂃⁩ᵎᵎ dating possessive jackie taylor

she's possessive most likely due to insecurity—an insecurity stemming from the fear that you might not love her as much as she loves you and that you might replace her with someone better, or something along those lines.

jackie likes to show her affection physically, whether it's holding hands, hugging, or kissing. she wants to ensure you know how much she loves you, and she wants everyone to be aware that you’re together. pda is afraid of her fr 😭😭

sometimes she does it a bit too much, though. for instance, if you're driving and, for some reason, you place both hands on the wheel, she'll pout and grab your hand, placing it back on her thigh or intertwining your fingers together.

or she'll follow you like a lost puppy at parties, either snuggling up beside you or dancing with you. and if she's jealous of someone, you're in for a long night because she won't leave your side FOR ONE SECOND—she'll even come pee with you ☠️

“babe, i really have to pee,” “it’s ok! i’ll turn around 😁”

she needs lotssss of reassurance; however, making her feel loved and happy isn't that hard tbh. even a simple gesture like a forehead kiss or an "i love you" will make her heart flutter in her chest 🤭

if she ever sees you hanging out with someone new, she'll go to the depths of the earth to know everything about that person, instead of simply asking you because she's that extra 🙄 like she'd even be capable of asking misty for help LMFAOO or asking mari cuz we all know that mari knows all the hot goss

she gets upset if you don't pick her as your partner in school or whenever there's a need for partners. for example, one time in chemistry class, you chose van as your partner because you thought jackie was going to pair up with shauna. to your surprise, she avoided you the whole day, looking all pouty. finally, when you asked her what's up, she was like, "did i do something? don't you love me anymore?" 🙄 GIRL STAND UP

goes into a rabbit hole of insanity every time she notices your instagram following go up by 1 LMFAOO