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#i had TWO two 4* pulls and still nothing
exopelagic · 3 months
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this election feels so hollow even though it’s likely ostensibly gonna be a good outcome. labour really just sucks fucking ass rn huh
#if the tories lose bad enough to make lib dems the opposition though… a guy can hope#I think it’s the fact that this is the first general election I can vote in that’s making me lose my mind a little here#I have done basically nothing but read today. I DO know a whole bunch more abt voting systems and the nightmare the tories have been now tho#I’m just kinda like. okay so what happens next? bc labour WILL do some decent shit but they also. fucking suck.#planning to look into the local green party once I’m back at uni bc I could actually do stuff there#I think I’m just dealing with a little bit of whiplash going from doing a biology degree where Everything is about climate change#like unambiguously it gets brought up in every topic (I DO focus on ecology and agricultural stuff and not like genetics but still)#clear consensus from literally everyone you talk to that shit has to happen right the fuck now.#it’s not even like I’m unaware of the state of policy rn I KNOW it’s a nightmare to do anything but we at least TALK about it#and then this election where it’s barely a footnote. biggest thing is the sewage dumping everyone’s talking about and yeah fucking finally#but is that all you’ve got?? the labour manifesto is bleak. it has a section and the stuff they’re proposing isn’t bad but it’s so little#and yeah no they’ve changed the official line on the manifesto to ‘make Britain a clean energy superpower’#I SWEAR it was different a few days ago#maybe I’m being pessimistic bc their plans for clean energy if they actually do them could be huge especially if they manage it by 2030.#it’s just that I know what the targets are and they’re already pulling back on shit like EVs bc of the shift right and I am So Tired#two party politics is a curse. as much as reform is an actual nightmare them getting a decent vote share might actually be the thing that#gets people talking abt proportional representation again bc they are nothing if not good at being loud#did you know we had a fucking referendum in 2011 bc what the fuck. and it went SO BADLY even though people generally supported it#god idk I think I’m once again being naively optimistic about people and election coverage has been very good at knocking me down a bit#people generally are good. I have to believe this. but man the british public is making that really fucking hard#genuinely I think a good chunk of that is down to first past the post driving politics to be divisive and aggressive#like is it the only problem? fuck no. but it’s definitely poisoning the way this shit goes bc when all the parties do is jab at each other#what are we actually doing here#idk I’m gonna stop now but this is taking up a ridiculous amount of bandwidth rn I can’t wait for it to be over#already dreading what the next election could look like in 4 years if starmer continues to suck ass bc I don’t trust him to not like at all#luke.txt#I said i was done but I just looked at the lib dem manifesto and oh my god it’s actually pretty good on this? holy fucking shit
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barbieb0y · 2 years
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haha........i got everyone BUT dalia ue ue ue (soung of cyring)
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alienzil · 2 months
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Nanny Danny
“That is a whole ass baby,” was the only thought running through Lex Luthor’s head when the scientist proudly showed him the tube containing Project KR. It was not remotely the sort of thing he would normally think and most definitely not what he had expected to be thinking the first time he saw the clone.
He’d been pleased when he’d read the reports indicating the success of KR after years of failures. Lex had poured millions of dollars and literally his own blood into ensuring a clone of the alien could be made, one that would be under his total control instead of the unknown aspirations of Superman.  He’d wanted to see the fruits of his labors personally but this…
It. No, not an it. He scrunched his tiny face and smacked his lips and…did he smirk? Was that HIS SMIRK on that baby’s face?! No. No. Babies this small didn’t smile or smirk. They passed gas and their sleep deprived and addled parents mistook it for an intelligent response. He’d heard enough inane conversations in the Lexcorp office about the various progeny of his employees to pick up on that but still. This child had Kryptonian DNA, not to mention his own contribution. Surely, he was far more advanced than the dribbling potato shaped lump of an infant whose pictures he’d been forced to smile and nod over when Mark from accounting had rudely shoved them in his face at the last quarterly budget meeting. Yes, that was definitely a smirk. His, that was his smirk.
“So as you can see its growth is well within expected parameters and we’re planning to start phase one of accelerating the maturation process tomorrow once the testing is do-”
“Take him out.”
“Sir? The testing can all be accomplished while it remains in the tube. There’s no need to-”
“I said, take him out. The project is cancelled.”
“What?! Mr. Luthor you can’t!”
“I think you’ll find I can. Now get me my son.”
*****
Two years later
“Call them again”
“Sir, I’ve called them seven times. They won’t answer.”
“Then call another agency!”
“There isn’t another agency, Sir”
Lex glared at his assistant who stared back at him impassively. Mercy stood by the door staring off into the distance and pretending she didn’t notice him being bested by his own secretary.
He stopped himself from shouting again and took a deep breath before asking, “Then what, exactly, do you propose I do Mrs. Anderson? Adjust my entire schedule around naptimes? Find a toddler size lab coat and safety goggles and bring my son with me to tour the new clean energy project on Thursday? Perhaps buy a tiny business suit while I’m at it for the next board meeting?”
“I’m not suggesting anything of the sort, Mr. Luthor. I’m telling you that no childcare agency in Metropolis will return my calls anymore. Most won’t even answer.  You’ve gone through 27 nannies in the last 3 months. You need someone better suited to your son’s…special needs.”
Lex snorted. “Special needs might be a bit of understatement. He can lift a car over his head and his favorite word right now is No.”
He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Thank you for…clarifying the situation, Marjorie. If there’s nothing else, you can leave.”
His secretary didn’t move. She looked at him like she was waiting for something and now that he was paying attention, he saw she was holding a file.  “Did you have a suggestion?”
Looking pleased with herself she responded, “Actually, yes, I did.”
“Well?”
She set the file on his desk and flipped it open. He looked down at the first page and raised an eyebrow, “What am I looking at here?”
“This,” she responded pulling out the top set of papers and spreading them out, “is the employee file and background check for Daniel J. Fenton, an intern that started in our engineering department about 4 months ago. He has one sibling, two parents and several close friends he regularly meets with. His current supervisor has nothing but good things to say about him and reports he gets along well with all his coworkers.”
She set out the next set of papers, neatly arranging them on the desk to be easily seen. “These are newspaper articles and screenshots of social media posts regarding a small town vigilante locally known as Phantom. The same small town, Mr. Fenton is from coincidentally. Also coincidentally, Phantom made his first appearance only a few weeks after Mr. Fenton was involved in a minor accident in his parent’s home laboratory when he was 14, the medical records for the incident are included.”
“Hmm,” Lex said observing several photos of Phantom and a younger Fenton arranged in order of similar poses and facial expressions and printed out side by side.
“Finally,” she said handing him the last set of papers directly, “this would be a report from the lab Mr. Fenton works in from an incident that happened yesterday. A test with a new protype went wrong and started a fire. Everyone evacuated per protocol when the alarms went off but one of the other interns was working on a programming issue off to the side of the lab while wearing headphones and didn’t hear the alarm or notice the fire. Mr. Fenton noticed his absence and returned to the lab to get him out.” She stopped talking and let him look at the last several pages in the file, a series of photographs of the lab.
“Is this ice?”
“Yes, it is. It’s several inches thick and covers half of the lab. It completely put out the fire leaving minimal damage.”
“This machine was moved?”
“It was. It was very close to the flames and would have required replacement if exposed to extreme heat or cold. That particular piece of equipment also weighs several thousand pounds and was bolted to the floor.”
Lex read through everything in detail then clasped his hands under his chin and stared at the photo of Daniel Fenton for several moments before turning back to his waiting secretary.
“Have HR send Mr. Fenton up. I’d like to offer him a promotion.”
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targaryen-dynasty · 4 months
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REDAMANCY.
Cregan Stark x female Targaryen!Reader (Part 4 here)
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From the very beginning on you’ve been hesitant to accept your younger brother’s offer to return to the capital for your child to receive his blessings. And when you‘re finally on the way, it’s your husband‘s duty to take care of you.
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MDNI; p in v, lactation kink, lactating, pregnant sex, pregnancy, slight breeding kink, praise kink, slight degrading, angst, fluff
WORDS: 3.3 K
NOTES: Redamancy means A love returned in full; an act of loving the one who loves you, and let me tell you: these two are in love. Thanks to @sylasthegrim, it‘s always good to know you help me with my zero grasp on English!
✖️ 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
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Ravens from Winterfell flying all the way down to King’s Landing has always taken quite some time. And therefore it was no wonder you were surprised that one of your younger brother’s ravens reached the castle not long after you'd informed him you were with child, inviting you to birth it in the Red Keep for it to receive the young king’s blessings.
Being the ever dutiful Lord of House Stark, there was no way your husband would refuse the offer, and once your pregnancy had crossed the seventh moon mark, a carriage and your husband’s entourage were sent south.
From the very beginning on you’ve been hesitant to accept the offer. Westeros’ capital has brought nothing but pain and grief to you, and you’re afraid coming back ruins the comfort and peace you’ve found far, far away from the castle in the North, in Winterfell. But a part of you misses and longs for your siblings and the part of your family that’s still left, hence it didn’t take too much convincing from your husband.
You’ve lost count of the days you spent in that damned carriage by now, solely accompanied by your maids as your dear husband rides at the front of his entourage, joining his men on horseback. But there’s one thing all days have in common: it’s you being exhausted beyond relief once night comes.
For the longest time you thought your unborn babe to be no-fussy and calm, which proved to be false just one week into the travel. It’s restless, kicking and moving especially when you finally find rest in the bed of the receptive inn you stay in for the night. Your feet are swollen, just like your breasts, and your body provides milk as though the babe has been long born already, and all you crave at this point is for the pregnancy to be over already.
As the wheelhouse comes to a stop, you rub your swollen bump with a sigh, looking toward the door with heavy footsteps approaching. Your beloved husband opens the door, and even though he won’t admit it, he looks just as exhausted as you do.
“Is it time?” you ask, slowly rising to your feet with another sigh. You place your small hand in his large one, allowing him to help you out.
He nods, bringing a hand to the small of your back. “Indeed. We have reached the crossroads. From here we are only ten days away from King’s Landing, which means the end of our journey is in sight,” he replies. “How are you and our son feeling?”
Cregan guides you away from the wheelhouse, escorting you through the crowd of his men towards a large inn sitting right where the river road crosses the kingsroad. And from old tales of your uncle you know it has to be the Bellringer Inn, a place where even your great-grandfather and great-grandmother have stayed at before.
“We do not yet know if this babe will be a boy or a girl, husband,” you chastise him in a teasing manner.
“You are right, we do not,” he says. “But I feel it in my bones. Just call it a father’s intuition.”
You roll your eyes at his words and nudge his ribs with your elbow, yet there also pulls a smile at the corners of your lips. He chuckles at that. “Careful, my love, I am not as nimble as I used to be.”
Shaking your head, you giggle softly. “Do not tell me that you are an old man now, Lord Stark.”
As you make your way through the courtyard and towards the inn, you can feel the curious glances of the passerby; a man of Cregan’s caliber always drew the attention toward him, just like your hair did. But you’re unbothered by it all. You carry a piece of your husband within you, and that thought fills you with a sense of fulfillment and pride.
He looks for the innkeeper as you reach for his hand, pulling it from your back around your frame, squeezing it softly. “Might you join me tonight? I know that you can not leave your men alone, but one night will surely do no harm. I must admit that I have hardly found sleep without your warmth for the past weeks.”
With a gentle, intimate gesture, Cregan brushes his fingers over your swollen bump, before pulling you against his side. “How can I ever be expected to refuse anything my beautiful wife asks of me? Of course I will join you tonight.” Leaning a bit closer toward you, he adds with a quiet whisper: “Your presence has been missed in my bed as well. The nights feel cold and lonely without you by my side.”
Heat crawls onto your cheeks at the proximity and the slight implication that comes with his words, solely interrupted when a stout man with a bushy beard but otherwise pleasant demeanor walks around the corner and welcomes you two.
Upon Cregan’s inquiry about the availability of a room, he hands over the keys and leads you toward your place of retreat for the night. More than once have you told Cregan you’re perfectly fine with sleeping in a tent with him, yet he always came back to your delicate condition, stating he only wants the best for you and his unborn child, and you eventually have given up and accepted it.
The room is decent. Not as big as your chambers at home, but still larger than what you’ve slept in for the last few weeks. Your maids already scurry into the room to bring some of your belongings and clothes to get you ready for the night, while Cregan leans in to kiss your temple. “Let me arrange for my man to sleep outside the inn for the night,” he mutters against your skin. “And then we shall spend the night in warm beds.”
Even with your maids bustling around you, you can’t help but feel a flicker of excitement at his words. The prospect of sharing the night with him is enough to make you forget the soreness of your swollen curves that has become a constant companion over the past few moons.
“I will freshen up in the meantime,” you say, leaning into his touch before he pulls away to take care of his men’s sleeping arrangements for the night. Once everything was adjusted in the chambers, your maids moved to help you out of your clothes, but you refused them, having planned something very special.
Standing in front of the small window, overlooking a stable with a thatch roof and a bell tower, you all but admire how quietly Cregan opens the door, and with the lock falling right into place behind him, the room grows even quieter and the atmosphere becomes charged with anticipation.
“Is everything sorted?” you ask, looking at him from over your shoulder.
“All set,” your husband replies with a low voice as he approaches you.
He comes to tower over your frame from behind, moving his hands over your hips up to your waist. Lifting your head, your eyes lock with his. “Alone at last, hm?” There’s a sultry smile on your lips now, and you gently reach behind you to cup his cheek with one hand. “Now you’re all mine for the night.”
You lean against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breaths against your back. Cregan seizes the opportunity and brushes your hair over one shoulder before he presses his lips to the crook of your neck. The touch makes you sigh, stirring something inside of you you have had to keep at bay for quite some time. When he brings his large hands to your swollen breasts, fondling them through the thick fabric of your dress, you can’t help but moan, the slight squeezing aiding against the heaviness.
But then his hands and lips leave your body, and he slightly leans around you to look at you – or rather your breasts – and you immediately know the reason why.
The gray fabric has become damp under his touch, two dark spots prominent in the front of it. While it brings a bit of shame to your cheeks, the low rumble that escapes his chest sends a fire straight down between your legs. “I should have warned you I started leaking a fortnight ago,” you admit ashamedly, biting your bottom lip.
“I quite enjoy the sight of it, you know,” he says, voice laced with a combination of awe, adoration and burning need. His hands shift to the lace in the back of your dress. “But let us put this to good use.”
The dress comes undone with ease, falling to the floor in a puddle around your feet. Damp spots are decorating your smallclothes, but this time you don’t mind the sight. Cregan’s hands now roam over your body, tracing the curve of your waist and your growing bump.
Although you know exactly what it is his words are meant to imply, you choose to tease him. “And what is it you have in mind right now, hm?”
His gray eyes briefly flicker to the bed close to you, before meeting yours again. “I have a few things in mind. But for now…” He cups your chin, tilting your head up so he can claim your lips in a slow, deep kiss that’s full of desire and passion. It makes you feel as though the air is sucked right out of your lungs by him, as if you can’t survive without his lips on yours. “How about we make the most of this night, my love?”
“I’m all yours,” you breathe against his lips.
His large hands roam your curves, helping you out of your undergarments, until they settle at your thighs, wrapping around them to effortlessly hoist you up. Although Cregan is quite the bull of a man and appears to be a brute, he possesses a tenderness you wouldn’t expect from him, gently keeping your body against his and lying you down on the bed not far away just as carefully.
Soft, gentle kisses are pressed to your collarbones, igniting a fire within you that has been smoldering for too long. As his fingers glide over your skin with featherlight touches, leaving a burning trail behind, he finds his hands drawn to your full breasts, cupping and holding them, and eventually squeezing them.
More droplets of your milk trickle into his calloused palms, wetting his skin, but he does not care–not when he has you writhing and whimpering beneath him at just the faintest of touches.
Your husband’s eagerness would have almost made you chuckle, watching him rise from the bed to rid himself off his clothes hastily, if it wouldn’t match your own desire and greediness. With his breeches falling to the ground, his cock stands to full attention, hard enough for it to almost seem painful.
His hungry gazes devours your bare form, tall frame slightly hunched forwards as his chest rises and falls with heavy breaths.
“Will you just stand there and watch, my wolf?” you tease, propping yourself up on your elbows. “What happened to ‘let us put this to good use’?”
It’s the teasing lilt in your voice that pulls him out of his stupor like a wave, the chuckle he releases low and throaty. “You are a temptress, my love,” he replies. “You are lucky I am a man of my word.”
“Then touch me,” you whine, words coming out more desperate than actually intended.
He doesn’t need any more encouragement. Slowly approaching the bed, Cregan bows forwards and grabs one of your feet. He lifts your leg and starts to trail sloppy, open mouthed kisses along the inside of your leg, occasionally nibbling on the skin of your inner thigh.
Your back slightly arches off the mattress, body thrumming with desire. Entangling your hands in his dark curls, you use the grip as reigns to where you want him most, but your husband acts completely unfazed, not allowing you to tug him higher up.
He takes his time, kissing and nibbling your thighs, before he boldly presses a kiss to the apex of your legs, tongue briefly dragging through your folds. It elicits a shudder in its wake, and you can’t stifle a moan.
Making his way up, he licks your navel, and eventually traces the curve of your full breast, circling your hardened bud. Cregan laps up every drop of milk that oozes out of your bud like nothing else than a starved wolf, the edge of his teeth applying just a faint pressure to the sensitive skin to stimulate the flow.
But when his other hand comes up to fondle and squeeze your other breast, that’s the moment you lose your composure, shamelessly smothering him with your breasts. “Gods, Cregan…” you whimper, immediately bringing you relief. There isn’t even time to waste a thought about the indecency of it all, not when it feels just so right.
It’s your mewls, your whispered whines and moans, the sound of you saying his name in such a desperate manner that drives him to continue. “You make me ache for you,” he rasps against your skin, voice thick with desire. Your husband never falters to ignite a fire inside of you with his words, especially when there’s an innuendo hidden between his praises.
Bringing his hand from your breast down between your bodies, he aligns himself with you, dragging the tip of his cock through your folds in a way that makes you bite back a moan and grind against him. You grip his dark curls harshly as he finally eases inside, pushing into you inch by inch, agonizingly slow to make sure you feel him enter you.
His suckling falters with the tightness of your walls embracing him, overwhelmed by pure bliss and a feeling he’s missed for the past few weeks.
Every gasp and whine that escapes you only serves to embolden him further, continuing to tease and taste your breast with unrivaled enthusiasm. It juxtaposes the slow, sloppy thrusts of his hips, and brings you two different kinds of sensations at once.
Cregan has made himself home between your legs, rocking his hips leisurely back and forth. He has dropped his weight on one elbow and leant his upper body to the side, determined to not put any weight on your swollen bump. His lips are firmly wrapped around your bud while his hand teases the other, pinching and squeezing it between his fingers. The proximity is unmatchable, feeding into your constant desire to be as close to him as possible.
You can practically watch him lose every ounce of self control, his suckling becoming more intense and the thrusts growing in determination. His groans and grunts are muffled, and droplets of your milk trickle idly down his chin, getting lost in the dark, coarse hairs.
You fully expect him to say something when he releases your bud, but he’s far too eager to get his fill again. Pinching the perky bud of your other breast harshly, droplets of milk run down the curve of it, only to be traced by his tongue, liking a flat stripe over your skin. He chokes on a groan as the sight has you clenching tightly around his hard cock.
“Please– do not stop,” you whimper, applying a bit of pressure to his head to urge him towards your breast again. “... not yet.”
Dark-blown eyes suddenly flicker up to meet yours, and a shuddered breath leaves your lips. “My my, what a greedy wench I have for a wife,” he chuckles to himself. You don’t take offense, but the statement does make you duck your head and bite your bottom lip sheepishly. “I do not intend to.”
Despite the teasing, it’s obvious your pleas fall upon eager ears as he heeds your command and closes his lips around your bud again. Every hungry pull of his lips draws more and more milk from you, and while relief makes itself known in your breasts, a different kind of pressure starts to settle in the pit of your belly.
Squeezing him so well, you make it impossible for Cregan to move on his own accord, and quickly take over, rolling your hips against his. It’s a race for completion, making your pearl throb with anticipation.
The coarse hairs of your husband’s beard drag over your sensitive skin with his eager suckling, tickling you and causing you to arch against him even more. You have your arms wrapped around his neck at this point, keeping him tightly against you.
A string of yesses falls past your lips like a chant, and the pace of your hips increases as far as your bump allows you to. Your mind grows hazy with pleasure, until your peak washes over you with a loud gasp.
You haven’t noticed Cregan watching you through it all, too focused on the sensations coursing through your body. His gaze is mesmerized, clearly relishing in the relief that’s etched onto your features and the way your walls flutter around his cock.
He pulls back, droplets of milk resting in the corners of his lips, and lifts his body to tower over you. The thrusting of his hips grows sharper now, determined to help you through your pleasure.
“That’s it,” he rasps, one hand resting on the mattress next to your head while the other gropes at your now relieved breasts.
“Once this pup is born,” he emphasized the words by rolling your sore bud between his index finger and thumb, drawing out just a few more droplets of milk. “I shall put another in you to keep you round with my seed.”
Your head grows dizzy, lightheaded even, and you can’t do more than whimper and whine through your peak, not fully comprehending what he’s said.
Cregan snaps his hips into yours once, twice before he topples over the edge with a loud groan, his throbbing cock spending itself deep inside of you. Cupping your breast, his fingers dig harshly into your flesh.
You continue to roll your hips against his, prolonging his pleasure. Switching roles, it’s now your turn to milk him for every drop, taking everything his cock spills inside of you. Every muscle in his body tenses, until eventually, he collapses to the side, careful not to put his weight on your swollen bump.
With his cock slowly becoming flaccid again, the sensation of his seed leaking out of your cunt is more apparent, causing heat to spread throughout your body. If it wasn’t for you carrying his child already, you would have mounted him to make sure his seed would bear fruit.
Cregan eventually lies down on his back, and you seize the chance to rest your head on his chest. It’s hard to keep your eyes open as his hand softly entangles into your hair, scratching your scalp in the manner that usually lulls you to sleep. His breath is slower now, his chest rising and lowering your head.
“I can not bear to spend another night without you by my side,” you all but whisper, bringing a hand to his stomach.
Your finger trails the contours of his muscles, before following the dark trail of coarse hairs down.
“You needn‘t worry about that,” he says. “We shall not stay in King’s Landing for too long. And I highly doubt that anyone could get me out of your chambers during the time we stay there. Once we arrive, we shall stay together.”
Nodding your head slowly, you hum a ‘mh-mh‘, too engrossed in the feeling of his hand in your hair and the other rubbing soothing circles over your back. Having trouble staying awake, you’re hardly able to process his next words, already drifting off to sleep.
“Let us sleep now, my love. We have another tiresome day ahead of us.“
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Cregan Taglist: @nats-whore @aemondsbabe
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nanaslutt · 11 months
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Can we get a part 2 of when reader asks satoru and suguru if they fucked before
of course ml!! tysm for asking <3
part 1 here~
contains: fem reader, fluff, crack, choking, hair pulling, anal sex (gojo gets fucked) spanking (geto spanks gojo once), dirty talk, overstimulation, dacryphilia if you squint, dare i say sub satoru, sub/dom dynamics if you squint, suguru and reader are competitive, u tag team gojo together
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
“so, when we’re you guys gonna tell me you’ve fucked before?” you asked, raising your eyebrows
gojo froze in place, pausing his efforts to get a towel to clean you up, he slowly turns to you, faux innocence on his stupidly pretty face, a big hand coming to rub the back of his neck
both you and geto stare at him, a smirk plastered on sugurus handsome features, heavy hand holding up his head, awaiting his response,
“now what on earth put that idea in your pretty little head?” he questions, hand falling on his hip sassily as he does an absolutely awful job lying
“oh i don’t knoww,” you drawl, pretending to think, “maybe geto telling you he was going to fuck you like it was the most normal thing in the world,” you scrunched your nose, shrugging
“but what do i know!” your eyebrows raised, suppressing a smile,
“nothing, you know nothing,” he replied, wiggling his finger back and forth in front of him like a child
“don’t tell me you forgot satoru, you might hurt my feelings.” geto teased, from his place between your calves, tilting his head to the side, “i know we were a little tipsy, but you told me i was an unforgettable fuck.” he pouted, faking offense, “you weren’t lying to me were you?”
satoru’s hand still on his hip like the sassy man he was, his mouth just flopping open and closing like a fish out of water, trying to think of a quick retort but failing to come up with anything, because the raven haired man was right
he was a truly unforgettable fuck
“now my feelings are hurt, he didn’t say I was an unforgettable fuck..” you pouted, crossing your arms over your bare chest,
“your mouth almost sucked the soul out of me,” he echoed from the hall
he had taken the opportunity of getos attention on you while he was ‘consoling’ you to slip out of the room, walking back in with a few damp towels, “course you’re an unforgettable fuck, way more than that monkey brained freak,” he hisses at geto, sitting next to you on the bed, using the warm towel to wipe his cum from your cheeks,
“oh? really?” geto let his head fall from his hand, landing against your knee, squinting his eyes at satoru while the blonde continued cleaning down your body, wiping up any fluids the two men had left
“think i remember making you cum..how many times was it again? 4? you were shooting blanks before i was even done with you” he smiles, rubbing your knee fondly with his strong hand while staring at gojo challengingly,
gojo looks away from your breasts, staring back into geto’s deep brown eyes,
“n they only made you cum once..” suguru mumbles into your knee,
“woah! woah, okay, I didn’t know i was competing with you in the first place!” you defend yourself, front half of your body shooting up, making gojo sigh as you accidentally knocked his hand back, “‘s not about quantity anyways, it’s about quality” you said smugly,
“n toru here, said I almost made him die so id say my quality is michelin star,” you proclaimed, narrowing your eyes at him before gojo pushed ur torso back down,
“i’m surrounded by a buncha babies jesus christ,” gojo shakes his head, pulling your leg out of sugurus grasp to access your leaking cunt better, pressing the harsh cloth against you and wiping you as gently as he could,
“sorry,” he winced for you in sympathy when you groaned out a protest, trying to close your legs on his hand at how painfully sensitive the rough towel made you feel, “anyways, you’re both good in bed, kay?” he continues,
“when suguru fucks me, it feels like my fucking guts are getting all messed up to make room for his stupidly big cock,” looking up through his lashes at sugurus smug expression, then back down to focus on what he was doing before making eye contact with you,
your arms still crossed over your chest, “n your throat squeezes me so fucking good i thought i was seein the pearly gates,” hand coming up to pinch your cheek, discarding the towel somewhere on the floor, standing once more to look for someone’s shirt on the floor he can put on,
“ ‘fucks’ as in you’ve had sex multiple times?” you stared in disbelief between the two of the large men, before settling your eyes on suguru
continuing your teasing you spoke up again, “and my compliment still sounded better,” you challenged him, a smug looks gracing your features
“you think so?” the raven haired man scrunched his eyebrows together, before turning his head to look straight at gojo’s supple bent over ass as he picked up a shirt and started to pull it over his head, “well, only one way to be sure which of us is really better.” he says to you quietly before standing
coming up behind gojo and grabbing his raised arms, preventing him from putting on his shirt, “hold that thought satoru, we’re in the middle of a little debate right now” yanking the shirt from satoru’s hands and throwing it back to its prior home on the floor,
“think you can help us? hmm?” he whispers, right into the shell of his best friends ear, sending goosebumps down his neck, “we’ll make it worth your while.”
———————————————————————
almost two hours later and the three of you were still in the same room, on the same bed,
gojo on his back, suguru fucking his cock right into his prostate as you face gojo, bouncing on his overstimulated dick, a thick ring of yours and his combined cum on the base of his overstimulated cock,
“c-cant cum anymore p-please- haaah- fuck please!” gojo whimpers out, thrashing his head back and forth on the sheets as fat tears drip down his face, making his cheeks shine under the light, “‘s too much ‘m too sensitive, ohmygodd” he drags, curses spilling from his lips one after another, his hold on your grip sure to leave nasty bruises as his hips fuck into your warm cunt without his brains permission,
“not till you tell us who’s better,” geto emphasizes with a heavy thrust, hand coming up to choke you out while he gives gojos poor hole the meanest treatment,
“‘s me right? ‘ve made you cum inside me so many times.” you slur, voice strained from getos rough grip on your throat
“bold of you to think that was your doing,” geto scoffs at you, “cmere,” he pulls your head back to press your lips together, other hand interlacing with gojos on your hip
satoru whines underneath the two of you, watching you makeout and feeling your cunt pulse around him because of suguru’s expert tongue work in your mouth had him spiraling
your hands coming up to grab geto’s wrist while he hums into the kiss, biting your lip between his teeth and pulling on it, letting it go before he chases after it and connects your lips once more
“‘m gunna cum again- please fuck- nggghhh i c-cant cum again,” gojo whines, squeezing getos hand and your hip for support as he’s falling into yet another orgasm and fast,
suguru pulls away from the kiss, releasing his grip on your neck as he pushes your lower back down twords gojos chest, “yes you can,” he growls
the raven haired man grabs your hair by the roots and pushes your face into satorus, “help him through it baby,” not needing to be told twice, you grab gojos cheeks with both your hands and slot your lips against his,
“mmmmph- mmm- can-t- p-please i-“ his protests being cut off by your lips, not letting him catch a breath
“got you, cmon” you comfort him in between your assault on his lips, geto reaching between his bestfriend and your body, finding your neglected clit, and rubbing sloppy circles on it, helping you get closer to your own high
“right there with you,” geto grits his teeth, resisting the urge to squeeze his eyes shut and tip his head back, so he can watch the show unfolding in front of him,
“gonna fill up this tight ass while you cum inside them, okay? and you’re gonna take everything we give you, right?” geto’s hips losing their rhythm, teetering on the edge of his own orgasm
gojo just whimpers into your mouth, hes trying to speak, he really is, but it’s all too much, he’s completely fucked out
“need to hear you say it satoru,” he emphasizes with a mean thrust, fucking impossibly deeper into his tight hole,
getos hand rubbing sloppily on your clit almost becomes too much, “yes! yesyes please ohmygod- gonna take it- shit-“ gojo’s whiney voice gets out just before he feels your cunt start to squeeze him,
“toru! fuuuuck me!” you whine, the blondes hips mindlessly fucking up into you helping you ride out your high as he cums so fucking hard, bordering on painful as spurt after spurt of his warm seed fills you once more,
and he’s gasping, barely coherent broken moans of both of your names on satoru’s tongue
geto not far behind you as he stills, balls deep inside gojos ass, the last push he needed seeing the two of you cum all over each other,
“yesssss fuuuuck” he clenches his teeth together hard, toothy grin emerging on his face, finally letting his head fall back, eyes following suit, rolling to the back of his head, “take it f-fucking t-take it.” fucking each rope of his cum deep into gojo’s ass
all three of you bask in the aftershocks of your intense orgasms, core clenching and unclenching around gojo’s length as you finally come down, picking your head up from gojos neck and smiling at his current state,
he was sniffling and gasping, red faced, tears decorating his lashes, making them look like glitter, he appeared more fucked out than ever
geto behind him slowly pulls out his softening cock, and gojo lets out a long groan of overstimulation when he does so, digging his fingers into the fat of your sides and wincing, “fuck, please don’t move yet, might pass out if you do” he says to you, his poor dick crying for relief, still snug inside your pussy, twitching every so often against your walls
you giggle, peppering kisses all over his face, he lets his eyes shut, finally relaxing a little as he relishes in the feeling of your soft lips on his skin,
suguru coming around to sit by his head
when you stop your assult of kisses on his porcelain face geto grabs gojos cheek furthest away from him and makes him turn his head into his thick thigh, “so,” geto starts, rubbing his thumb on gojos cheek, “who was better?” he asks, cocky smile finding home once more on his face
gojos eyes shoot open, looking at him slightly panicked, squeezing your upper thighs for support before he speaks, looking back between the two of you,
“i….im afraid if i don’t answer we will never leave this room.” he gulps
geto confirms his fears, tilting his head to the side, face sporting the fakest smile of comfort gojo has ever seen, “you would be absolutely right.”
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freyaphoria · 2 months
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Hello! Since I can't save the writings in my drafts and your request is currently stuck in my drafts, I have to post it this way. I hope you can see your request T_T By the way, I wrote this 4 times, and the universe prevented me from writing it. Normally it was over 2k words, but most of it was deleted and I forgot what I wrote. Anyway, Love u!♡
Look Like a Freak
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tw: nerd!Seonghwa x fem!reader, oral(giving mentioned, receiving), squirting, slapping, fingering, vibrator using, degradation, bondage, overstimulation
wc: 1.5k
taglist: @aim-blossom @matzrionette
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“Seonghwa, are we really going to do it here?” It was too late to ask now. He made an approving noise as he abused your pussy between. To your surprise, he could hear you and respond. Normally, after tasting you, Seonghwa would be pussy drunk and wouldn't hear or see anything.
Seonghwa's room was the most virginity room you've ever seen. There were more Star Wars figures and Legos than you could count. And what is it? On the top shelf of the display case, on top of the Star Wars legos, there were colorful house legos and animals next to them, which you might think were related to animal crossing which might attract the attention of 5-year-old children.
You and Seonghwa went to the same university and met at the dance club. When you first met him, he was very quiet, buried in his book with a book by an unknown author in his hand and he was wearing the metal-framed glasses he was currently wearing, not communicating with anyone. Even though most people avoided communicating with him, you felt his potential in his eyes under those big glasses. You had initiated the first communication and asked him something about the star wars lego keychain hanging on his bag, and before you knew how the things had developed, he had pulled you into the back storage and made out with you. After a while, you started fucking after every dance lesson and became addicted to each other. You were nothing but a fuck buddy, but you'd still meet up at his house every once in a while to build Legos together like cute couple, and as you can imagine, your night would end up in his bed, trying to recover, with his cum dripping down between your legs.
Same thing today, you met at his house to play his favorite game, the two of you lying in bed while Seonghwa was playing Animal Crossing on his Nintendo. But you had made him horny without knowing why, and Seonghwa stopped his game, which was an unexpected move from him, and started eating you. Animal Crossing, where you played with Seonghwa, was still on on the TV and calm music was playing.
"Can you at least turn off that game? It's ruining the whole mood-" You were cut off by Seonghwa shoving your panties into your mouth. "Don't tire that beautiful mouth of yours by talking, you will be tired enough when I put my dick down your throat."
Who would believe that someone as nerdy as him could make you this wet? If you told your friends who knew him, they would all think you went crazy. But right now, you were in his bed with your legs wide open and you were dripping, Animal Crossing in front of you, Star Wars figures next to you, and a nerd Seonghwa losing himself between your legs.
When Seonghwa started using his fingers as well, you realized you wouldn't last long. He was eating you out and fingering you so professionally that you were seeing stars every time, your legs shaking uncontrollably and squirting on him. And so it was, the moment you felt his fingers inside you, curls them up and abusing your sweet spot while his tongue stimulates your clitoris, you couldn't hold back that ball that was growing in your belly any longer and you came into his mouth. Your voice came out as a muffled moan through your underwear in your mouth. "Oh but I couldn't hear you clearly, looks like we're going to do it again." He pulled the fabric from your mouth and kissed you hungryly. Since he still didn't remove his fingers from you, you continued to spasm uncontrollably around his fingers and began to squirm from the overstimulation.
"What is that? You got tired a little early for a slut like you. Open your legs." As you tried to close your legs, Seonghwa forced them open. When you closed them again, you were startled by the sound of him slapping your thigh hard. "You want to be a brat? Okay then." He let go of your legs and headed towards his desk. He opened his drawer, took the rope next to a lot of Animal crossing cards, closed the drawer hard and turned towards you. You held back your laughter when you saw the colored cards. He adjusted the thin metal-framed glasses that fell on the tip of his nose, found the end of the rope and started wrapping it around your wrists.
"Hwa, I'm getting rope burns, haven't you found that furry handcuff yet?" He tied the rope tightly around your wrists, he bent your leg towards you and brought your ankle closer to your hands and tied the rest of it to your ankles. "No I couldn't. And if you stop squirming, you won't get a burn." After tying your other side in the same way, he checked its strength and made sure that it was not loose. He looked at you, his masterpiece, from head to toe, then he spanked your pussy that you had forced open and exposed for him, and he moved towards your upper body. You let out a small scream at the sudden feeling of pain. He tied your upper body by looping the rope around your chest and tying it over your arm; so it stabilized your arms and prevented you from closing your legs.
"Now, what should we do with you?" You felt even wetter with the feeling of being restricted and having all your control in his hands. The feeling of emptiness inside you was becoming unbearable and if he didn't fuck you soon, you would start crying and whining from frustration. "Just fuck me already."
The left side of his mouth lifted up and laughed slyly. A deep chuckle escaped his throat. "No no, I won't give you what you want that easily." This time, he opened the drawer where he kept your toys under the previous drawer and took out the pink vibrator with remote control. When you think about what he did to you with it, your heart starts to lose its rhythm and the adrenaline in your body begins to tickle your pussy waiting to be filled. The vibrator that he play with you for hours and eventually makes you squirm from overstimulation and cry and beg him to stop...
"How about this? No coming until I finish my new lego set. If you come, I won't fuck you tonight. Understood?" "Wait, at least let me suck you." He moved the toy in his hand over your folds before inserting it inside you, collecting your wetness on the toy. "Are you that much of a cock slave? Is there a day you don't spend without sucking me? Can't that little belly of yours do without taking my cum?" Your face turned red because of his dirty words. Yes, there wasn't a day without sucking him, but there wasn't a day without him eating you either. You were considered equal in every way. After all, you were a fuck buddy and that was your purpose. "Please just let me take you in my mouth" He balled up the panties he had just taken out of your mouth and put it back into your mouth. "Just deal with it for now. You can do it, right? It shouldn't be too hard."
After laughing sarcastically, he moved the vibrator over your folds for the last time and put it inside you. You gasped at the sudden feeling of being filled. The fact that you didn't know when Seonghwa would start the toy and when he would stop it made you nervous and excited. After licking his fingers, which got wet because he inserted the vibrator inside you, and tasting you again, got up from you and took the lego bag next to his wardrobe and placed it on his desk. "Which one do you think I should do?" He took out the Lego sets one by one from the paper bag and showed them all to you. The hilarity of your current situation and the Animal Crossing music playing in the background almost made you laugh. You were thankful for the fabric over your mouth that prevented you from laughing.
"Oh that's it!" He took out the 1394-piece Ghost & Phantom II set from the bag and placed it on the table. When he took the remote control of the vibrator and started to turn it on at medium level, you first lost your breath and started to squirm in your place. But he tied the ropes so tightly that you couldn't move much.
"Remember, no coming until I finish this set." He opened the box and placed the contents on the table, looking at you who began to tremble slightly. “You look like a slut.” And you look like a freak you thought.
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00kittenz · 15 days
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── desperation. ( psh ) 📠
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pair: boss!sunghoon ㅊ employee!f!reader | warnings: smut, secret relationship, age gap (sunghoon is 10 years older), semi-public s.x (?), hoon is a needy boi, coercion, quickies, dirty talk, piv, no lube, no protection (don’t be like them!) | words: 1.4k
imagine boss!sunghoon being so needy n desperate for you at all times, he just can’t seem to keep his hands off you.. just needs to cop a feel whenever he can bc he’s that obsessed w you ;( he’s also willing to skip important business meetings just so he can bring you into his office when no one’s around and have you bent over his desk— loving the way your curves hug the work uniform in all the right places..
this is my very first ever post on enhablr !
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
“please?” sunghoon’s desperation grew as time went on, nothing but lust clouding his judgement. he had you pushed up against his desk, caging his arms around the slope of your waist, hindering you from any retaliation, utterly defenseless in his hold.
“i promise i’ll be super quick..!” he pleads even more, pressing wet kisses all over your face, his pouty lips still lingering along the rim of your jaw afterwards. “just need you, so so sooo bad.”
sunghoon has been “negotiating” with you for the past ten-ish or so minutes, playing every trick in the book he possibly can in getting you to fold like a sunday lawn chair for him. what may have prompted all this you wonder ? well, he simply got hard at the sight of you and now you’re the one in ‘trouble’ because he can’t function while being bricked up at work. you two had an odd relationship to say the least… he was your boss, the man you reported to every day and pick up his morning coffee before he arrives at 8 AM sharp, but you also sleep with him sometimes?? (you thought it would be just a one off occurrence but sunghoon wanted it to be a more frequent, fwb type of deal..)
you were seriously hoping that he’d leave you alone today, you had a lot of work that needed to get done within a short timeframe and distractions weren’t going to do you any good, however, you couldn’t just say no to park sunghoon. there were dozens of other women who’d kill to be in your position, they already tried to seduce him one, two many times before— except you of course. you were like the golden employee who always followed orders, listened to directions the first time, and did everything the right way, he’s never really had to reprimand you and even on the rare chances you do mess up, he’d handle it with you in private; just like how he’s doing now.
hell, sunghoon makes it excruciatingly hard to resist him. especially when his breath inched beneath your ear, silky strands of jet black hair tickling your chin as he begs for your touch.
“i told you i was busy— hoon, s-stopp !” you helplessly whine, your mind kept telling you to refuse but your body was saying a completely different story. he knew exactly where to pull the pin, knew just how to make you give in to his not-so-safe-for-work desires.
“oh are we now ?, too busy for me ? what happened to wanting to get that new promotion, huh ?” he cocks his head to the side, turning arrogant all of a sudden now that he can use something as leverage over you. it’s a shame that he has to stoop to such low levels but he’s willing to try whatever method that’ll get him exactly what he wants.
as he whispers in further detail all the naughty things he wants to do to you, your legs were brought to a tight close, wanting nothing more than to relieve the ache you felt between your plush thighs; you feel dirty, disgusting for wanting your boss to fuck your brains out, it’s unprofessional, you shouldn’t be doing this— letting him have access to you whenever he wants almost felt dehumanizing.
though, you be lying if you said he didn't strike a bone in your body, maybe 3, or 4.. 10 at most. hell, maybe even all of them. some days you were able to keep your cool and act as though he had zero effect on you— however, he was just so unable to resist at times. you couldn’t help but be attracted to him; even if he was an asshole sometimes, you secretly liked it in a sick, twisted kind of way. if he was going to play this little game then you may as well play right along, plus you weren't gonna just walk around with soggy panties without getting something in return, right ? right.
“oh ? giving in already, guess you really do want it that bad, huh ?” he smirked childishly as you finally cave in, rubbing up against him, spreading and burying his knee between your thighs.
“shut up, do you wanna? or not ?” so over his annoying little antics, you gradually wiggled your hips against his toned, muscular thighs.
“it’s cute when you act all needy for me.” his hands caressed your waist, taking your leg to his hip, in effect your pencil skirt riding up your thigh.
you felt his clothed dick against your core as he pressed his body against you. sloppily taking your tongue against his.
you've always wondered how this man could get you so hot and sweaty all over a few words. then again, as long as you’re pleased; does it really matter ?
“fuck..” you spoke, hand grabbing at his tie, the melody of his luxury belt being unwrathed gave you a tsunami of chills. “quickly, i have a meeting in..” you checked you wrist, reading the analog watch that sat delicately along your veins. “15.” you heaved heavily, he tugged down your tights physically prepping himself with his hand.
“thats enough time to make me bust twice.” he chuckled. his length entered your puffy, dewy pussy.
“quick busser !” you laughed, knowing it'd strike a chord within whenever you tease him.
taking your ass in his hands before he paces himself. “you love when my dick coats your pussy in a thick coat. so, suck it.” he groaned, kissing onto your collarbone to keep himself quiet.
his office wasn't what people would call sound proof, but at a good distance from the door, nobody could be able to hear you. but keeping you quiet would deem to be the most difficult part.
sunghoon bear hugged you keeping you tight against him, he thought fucking you in your work attire, especially your tights, had to be the sexiest shit to dance on this earth. it's honestly why he's here. the way the thin black fabric wrapped around your thighs, he could just picture your sloppy pussy, wrapping around him. balls deep. and you took him so. so. so. well.
“ugh, yesyesyes..” your ragged breathing swam through his ears, giving him an ounce more of stamina. “shit !” your clit throbbed at his lower abdomens slight back to back friction, you grind up onto him, to feel more of that reminiscing release edging you.
he nibbled at your lips before taking them against his. “shut the fuck up. you dont— hell..wanna get caught do you ?” he swatted your thigh, thrusting himself at a slower, but rougher notion.
“fe—feel so good, nggh.. hoon..” you whispered, biting at his ear.
your forehead glistened with sweat, the buttons of your shirt leaving your perky breasts opposed and exposed. you threw your head back at the pulsating between the two of you, you could feel him. throbbing, and hardening inside of you, and it turned you way the fuck on. just as your pussy throbbed against his hard.
“c'mon mama.. you wanna drench your boss’s cock? huh ?.. wanna make it all gooey with your cum ?” he pushed you closer and closer with his words, as if him ramming into you wasn't enough.
“yes.. wan' make it gooey, baby !” you whispered under your breath. throwing your head back, leaving your boobs to bounce under the escaping light of his blinds.
“then cum, be a good girl..” sunghoon’s breath quickened, he was near the edge himself, if not on it.
the two of you, moaning into each other's lusty mouths, aching for more. your groans becoming quickened and hoarse as the burning knot in your stomach leaves you in discomfort. until a strong stroke came to pop that growing bubble inside you, releasing you of all your numbness. you came onto his thickness.
sunghoon, lost it at the feel of you tightening around him, lays you down onto the desk, pushing down on your stomach. he could feel himself through passing through your entrance. just thinking about it, left him blissful.
“fuck, fuck ! 's fuckin' right, squeeze me baby..” he finally broke, leaving all his pellent inside of you, slowly pumping himself a few more times before sliding out. his figure, breathing heavily, leaning onto your heaving chest.
you could hear him chuckling after awhile of comfortable silence. “looks like you're gonna be late for your meeting miss. y/n.”
“you so owe me.” you glare up at him as if this was all his fault.
“i do ?” he kissed your tummy.
“yeah, you do actually.”
“and what may that be?” he raises his brow, pushing up his thin framed glasses.
“a real date.”
“can i take you back to my place after ?” he kissed your tummy through your shirt once more.
“deal.” you grinned, catching your breath.
you were a dirty mess. a mess that sunghoon, had absolutely no problem with cleaning up.
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cypherscript · 4 months
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Linchpin
The GIW have finally done it; they finally rid the world of the strongest ghost in their recorded history and the world finally know peace from ghost kind.
Watchtower - Four years three months later.
"Right," Tim Drake-Wayne aka Red Robin stood before a small council of Batman, Wonder Woman, Booster Gold, Martian Manhunter and the Flash, "Thank you, everyone for allowing me to request this meeting but it's imperative that this matter be seen to before something irreversible comes to pass."
"Red Robin, wandering."
"Right, sorry." Tim taps away on the computer and pulls up several of his personal photos from his day off last month of the night sky with two bright pinpoints of lights. "This is the night sky with Alpha Centauri a month ago. I was on vacation and managed to get some good pictures for that night but something else happened that night." He pulls up another photo of the same night sky but one of the stars were gone.
"Where'd the left star go," Flash asks as he pulls over a digital copy of the two pictures.
"I don't know but it's still not there. A month ago Proxima Centauri went out and no one's saying anything about it online. I was hoping to petition the Justice League to borrow the Watchtower's computer and telescope to check the area."
"I don't see why that would be an issue," Wonder Woman says as she also looks over the pictures with the flash. "Batman?"
"I don't have a problem with it but it needed someone not connected to the issue to vote on it." With that said they voted to let Tim borrow the computer's telescope and began scanning the area. Several hours later they had a really clear picture of the area Proxima Centauri had been. In its spot there was nothing; no gas, no planets, no nebulas or anything but darkness.
"We should probably get Green Lantern or one of the space heroes." Batman's Hn spoke leagues to his current mood.
_____________________________________________________________
"So your little bird was right, Bats. Proxima's gone and it's not the only one. The Guardian's have been receiving distress calls for several universal cycles. Tamaran, Corona Seven, Betelgeuse, Alpha Corvi to name some." Hal says as he reads from a list projected from his ring, "They've traced a Decay Field originating from Earth over four years ago. Supposedly failed supervillain attack? Experimentation gone wrong?"
"We're unsure. We've talked with the United Nations and no one's come forward with anything concrete. We do have a list the length of the Batmobile of possible culprits though."
"Sorry but what's a Decay Field? I can hear those capital letters and don't just say it's a field that decays stuff." Flash asks, looking up from his portion of experiments.
"But it is... The Guardian's explained it like a kill switch to certain technologies. Something happened on Earth four years that made the universe start eating itself."
"Then why not start with our sun? Why start at a star 4 light years away," Batman asks, putting down the League's digitized stellar map, "If the field originated on Earth, Sol should have been the first to vanish."
"Strange isn't it?"
A burst of static comes from the speakers at the table, causing a couple to flinch before a corrupted male voice speaks to them.
Ņ̵͙͔̼̓̏̕̚o̸̢̳̮̖̩̪͉͒̊̓̐t̸͙͓̻̙͗̌͆́̈ ̸̢̖̪̫̪͙̉̆ͅǎ̸̦͔̜͂͗͛͘͠t̸͇̏̂̉̆ ̵̹̖̣͎̘̟̞͒͆a̴̛̟͗́͂̿͜ḻ̸̑́̀l̵̢̗̻̙̜̄͆.̶̢̨̤̞̖͕̾̏͌̽̽ ̷̛̩̘͍̺͚͈̐̔́̾͊̚W̸̨̳̟͍͓̱̊͗̿̓͜e̸̛̛̹̒͜ ̵̞̻̌̓͆̂̕w̷͉͐́e̴̼̗͑̐̈̑̆͝r̴̫̻͇͖̞͂è̶̯̺͙̬̲ ̶̢̣̣̥͐̓̓w̶͇̺̯̝̲̌̚o̸̡̢̗͖̤̮͑̇n̵͇̣͙̫̹̄͌̽d̴̺̼͕̙̐́̂̈e̴̢̧̮̣͍̯̽͝r̵̼͙̩͛͆͝i̷̝̱͎̞͑̏̀n̵̯̰̻̹̭͕̫̈́͛́̌͘g̵̨̛̻̯̺̠͈̜̅͂̌͘͠͝ ̸̺͉͍̹̱͕̈́̅̀̾̈́͘ẅ̷̨̝͔̖͉̜̭͘̕h̴͚̘͕͊̄ȩ̷̢̱̱̤̫̗̈͘n̸̼̦̭̹͆̏͘ ̷̰̫̳͊͌̋̇͂̍̕͜ẙ̷̭͙̘̅̋́̚ó̶͔̪̥̩̭͎̺͋͑́́̒ũ̶͙̝̬͖̯̏̎͠ ̴̢͈͎̤̜̲͛̈̓̀̒̍̕ͅp̸̨͈̱̥̙̗̠̊̋̀e̶͚͊̈́͐̀̋͠ơ̵̧̧͍̥̮p̴͈̘̺̙̫͈̀͆́l̵̝̻̼̳̋ͅͅḙ̵̮͍̻̺̀̑͛́͑̕ ̸̮̥̀̉̈́͑͊͐͂w̵̲̥̅̎̋̓ȏ̴͚̰̩̐̓̎̿̍̀ͅȗ̵̙͓̂͝l̶̟̪͐͗͂̂d̵͎̦̈́̌̀͌ ̵̧̗̲̈́́̔f̵̨͙̪̌̌̀͜͠i̷̳͛̉̊̆̈̓̒n̶̮̗̤͋̾̂̂͘a̶̤̫̘͚͌̓̒̊l̴̟̰̼͉͖̉̎̓͒͆̅͜l̶̢̹̾̉̒̊̕y̴̡̙̞͒̒̏̉ ̷̧͙̺̯̼̉ǹ̷̯̲́̉̈̚o̸͓̠̖͌̋͒͛ṭ̵̟̥͕͉̀̔ȋ̴̢͉͎̃͆̈́̈́̈́͠c̵̰̰͎̭̯͑̆͌͗͝ȅ̷̖̫̃̐̈͝ ̵͎̣̖̄̃͋̌̂̌̊w̴̹̦̙̜̙͉̰̓̈́̚h̸͇̣̩̝͇͊̃͑͆̂͝ä̵͚̭̪̖̀͗͑̄͘t̶̛̟̳̣͔͍̿̓͆͘͠ ̷̨̠̪͔͎̐̇͌ẁ̷̢͖͓̹͛̈a̷̭͚̭̳̙͇̽́̉̽̐͘s̷̨̲̖͌̆̊̋̐̈́ͅ ̵̻̻̯͍̤̊̂͝͝ĝ̴̨̢̰̙̞̲̂̽̈o̴̪̥̙̽̅͗̓í̷͈̯̾́̋̾̊n̸̳̘͍͒̋̏͆̀̐͜ͅg̸̻̿͗̐̊̍̚͝ ̶̤̰̹̭͙̬͙̇̀ṏ̴̘̮̱̦͍́͂̑̚͜͝ņ̵̼͊.̴̡̜͔͍͇͍̃̐
(Not at all. We were wondering when you people would finally notic what was going on.)
"Who are you," Batman demands as the voice chuckles, "Is this your doing?"
Ņ̷͙̹̱͕̀͐̄́͜ớ̷̩̠̻̅̉̈́̎̀ͅ.̷̮̲̰̩͆͗͂̆́̒̚
(no)
"But you know about it, what's doing this and how do we stop it?"
I̷̢̬͉̖͗̒̀̈ ̷̟͎̯̺̺͕̅̆͆̌̐̔́d̷͙͔̜̿ȏ̶̡͓̩͝ņ̴̜̤̟̳́͑̂̚͠͝͠'̵̝̜̉̆́t̷̛̯͌̓̎̎ ̴̞́̈̍ţ̴̢͓͙́ḧ̸̲͛̿͗̍i̶̧̯̱̠̩̥̭͛̉̊̌̈̒͝n̷͖̯̩̺͛͂̊̑͐͠ķ̶̧̙̖̐͐̀̄ ̷̛̦̲̎̋̑y̷̧̯̝̝̦̌̒͌͂o̴̧̹̲͉̟̝̱̊̏u̵̱̣̘̳͖̇͗͆͐ͅ ̷͙͇̝̳͒̎̑̓͜͝ͅͅc̵̫̼̠̮͕̠̃ą̸̣͇̩̬̟͌̋͠n̵̛̬̟̼͈̪͓̲̆̀̔̋̈́̕.̸̢̝̳̜̥̗̾́.̸̢̪͔̹͈̂̈̆͛̇́̔.̸͓̯͓̞̃̉̃ ̸̢͉͉̳̬͙̗͗͂͌̄̏T̵͚̩̙̽̈́͛͌́̀h̶̘̲̙̪̗̾i̵̭͕̙̟̒̔͝ͅș̵͗̈́̚͝ ̶̥̲̹̜̖̼̯̉̍į̶͓̥̀̍̓s̸̢̡͓̬̰̹̋̿̿̃́̽͜ ̵̀̈̇́͐̚ͅp̸̡̨͎͇̦̌̍͜ṳ̸̫̖̘̑͋͂̕̕͝n̵͔͔͇̺͚̪͋͂ͅĩ̸̢̛̥̬̮̙̈́́̔s̸̩̝̝̓̀̈́ḧ̸̫͇́̓̄́̕ṃ̸̨̐̄̾̌͂͝ẽ̴͓̈́n̵̮̥̯͑͛͂̀́͝ţ̷̨̟̖͚̹̺͗̋͑͌̄.̷̭̐̈̕
(I don't think you can, this is punishment.)
"Punishment for what?! We didn't do anything," Flash shouts as he stands up to yell at the voice.
Ỳ̸͕̖̼͐o̵̘̻̩̹̽̀̍͑͗̊̓ú̴̢͇̮̯͍̑̚ ̷̢̢͖̹̍͗͜ḏ̵̨̹͔͆̈́̀̀̑͆͜i̶̲̯̯̱͍͐̆̉͛͋͐ͅd̶͈͇̤̙̃̃͑͌̅̓͆n̷͓̳̅̄'̶͙͓͉̣̝͓͌̽͘t̵̡̝̘͔̮̹͔̊̈́͋͂́̾,̷̧͔̲͕̙̋̚ ̶̳̙͉̩̄̐̄͌b̷̻̮̟̩͑̿̕ű̶̩̩͚t̷̛͎̤̠̪̮́̒͜ͅ ̵̠͓̩̤̋̇̂͆̕ͅc̶̘̹͒ị̵̢̟̩̄́͐̒͝t̶̠̥͙̗͎̺̘́͗̄͂̅̚ḯ̸̡̞̳̝̰͆̒̀͂̑̎z̴̯͉̾̑̈́͝͝ę̵̻̼̟̗̌̎͝͝n̴̘̓̈́̎̊͌͛s̷̝̭͔͈͗̂͐̇ ̵̱̇͑̆̋̓͜͝͠ő̶̥̝̠̞̇͆̊̀͌͗͜f̸͈̖͆̀̑̈̇̄̓ ̷̨͇̦͕̺̩̃̓̇̇͐̀t̴̬̬͇͔͛̃̊̿̀̏́h̷̯̠͒̒͋̆̂̅͠é̶̡ ̸̰̘͈̹̳̈́Ẽ̸̢̟̥̺͈̙̓̈̄͘͠͝a̶̛͎̥̦͙͆̑͋̿͝͠ͅr̶̺̟̱̈́̀ţ̵̝̩̬͍̉̔͊́̕͠h̶̥̠̣̹̰̻̖͆͂̉͌͠ ̶̳̣̠͚̮̌͆̋̅͂̈́ḧ̶͖͉̟̮̜̻̖́̊ã̸̲̦̗̜̌̿͌́̑̚v̵̯͚̲̯̖͋̽͝ͅȩ̴̛͕̯̖̈́͌ͅ.̸̩͚̽
(You didn't but the citizens of the Earth have.)
"What did they do to warrant starting a Decay Field to eat the universe?!" The next words spoken was a combination of several voices.
T̷̝̹̥̘̯̠̓̑̽ͅh̶̺͓͕̝̍͗̐̃̄̚ȇ̶̜͉͈̦̮̓͝͠y̵͔̗̫͎͙͚͠ ̷̟̓̃͂ķ̷̦̳͎̓̃͛͌̒͝ͅi̴̫̪̮̰̭̠̘̊͑͛́̐l̴̖̲̙̀̿l̵̹̦̪͐̌̎͆ę̷̨̙͇̮͇̊ḋ̵͉͙͖̦̪̰̒͝ ̴̮̜̥̟͚͇͊̀ḿ̵̱̼̮̠̪̘̓̃̀̐͐͝ŷ̸̖̞̤͐̄͛͆ ̸͎̯̠̰̆͋̓̌̂͌͛b̶̢̜̙͎͌̓̐e̸̛̥̳͒̋̽́́s̴̨̙͑́͑̒͐̐t̷͙͌̀̄͝ ̵̰͑̓͜f̷̛̦̭̀́̅̌r̷̖̹̫͕̬̩̔į̴͎͖̯̜̲̥͒̀͊̓̆͒͘ẻ̵̬͈͊͝n̶̤̼̥͚̱͉̔͗̂͝d̶̯̼̋̏̂̈̿͝ͅ.̴̻̭̣̭̪̣̖̒̐̒̄͝ (They killed my best friend.)
T̶̰̗́̋̓͝h̶̞͔̠̪͖͎̝́ě̴͇̭̻̗̣̉̔y̴̛̝̼͎͇̼͌̽̏̚ ̴̢̛̞͕͓̜̻̑͋̍́k̷̲̃̓̊̊́̽ǐ̷̡̟͔̜͈̃ḽ̶̢̭̠͕͒̈́͊́̈́l̵̠͎̎̋̄͘ȅ̷͖̪͖͒̈́d̴̩͖̳̜̯̹̋͑ ̷̜̜̯̬̤͂̑̀̍͋͒̆m̴̙͕̹̩̞͐̌̅̾y̷̡̱͉̠̗͇̏̓̉ͅ ̴̨̖͇̠͜͝p̷̺̯̖̹͚͎͛̋͌ȃ̵̧̪̼̫͈̺̞̾͋̓͛r̶͇̺̫͂̍̑̕t̵̟̦̞̞͍̀̒̉́̋̓n̸͎̻̻̒ȇ̵̢̪̣̤̫͐͜r̸̡̯̪͖̻̃̉̓͘̕͝.̸̹̖̜̈́̃̎̓ (They killed my partner.)
T̴̗̻̫̼̙͛̐̿̈́͂̈̐̎̔̆̀͑͐͠͝ͅh̸̘̞̫̺̗̹͆̽͒̅ȩ̴̡͕̄ÿ̵̢̳̺̗̲̠̩̹̟͈̞̘́͊̓̀́̏̒͑̐̿̊ ̸̼̞͖̻̰̤͚́k̴̛͚̬̹͚͒̐͊̍̉́́̚͝͠ͅͅi̵̘͈̿̌̋̂̈͌̋̐͑̕͝l̵̘̊̒̄́̈́͂̒̍́̿͗̐̉͝͝l̴̬͔͎̍̓͋̉̐̀͂̕͘͠͝e̷̙̭̪̝̭̜̻̠̓͋͑̔̓̈́̋̈͒̒̉̔̏̚͝d̸͕̫̼͉̫͓̜̩̪̺̫͈͋͝ͅ ̸̧̧̼̙̰̮͓̖̑̈́͋͌̅̃̑́̍͛̂͠t̶̡͎̼̖̳̼̣͚͓̝̘͉̊̍̈́͛͆́̾̀͊̃̚͝ḧ̸̨̛̺̹̭̖̠̞́͛̀e̸̡͚̤̮̼̳̽͗͛̾̀̆͂͑̀͛͜͝ ̸̛̪̝̺͓͇̜̀́̿̄̏̕̚w̸͉͕͐̾̋̏͒̂͒̓̚ḩ̴̠̹͇̘͔͚̖̘̻̈́̿̄͆̓̑͑̚͝͠͠͝ę̶̛͔̲̰̖̗̈͋̾͑̂́̅̈͑͆́̀̓͝l̶̨͇͇͉͖͂̃̈̂p̷̛͇̭̺̲̠͕̝̹͍̙̓̍̈́̾̆́̋̐̀̿̓̂̉ (they killed the whelp)
Ţ̵̇̍͐͝ḥ̶̢͎̇ͅě̶̢̨̇̉̎̉ÿ̶̹͔̼́̅͌͑̚ ̸̖̤͛̿̎̍̂̍ͅk̴͓̞̼̙̰̼̅̑͌̍̄i̷͓̣͎͑͂̌̽̈́̾͝l̸̮͖̖̲͑͑͋̐l̸̛̛͇̹̙̳̟͌̽̃̌è̴͇̒͗͐͂d̷̮͈̋̚ͅ ̴͉͈̞͙̙͇̈́̋͂̚ȯ̶͚͓͋̍̍ǔ̴̢͎̹͕̀͆̇̒̂r̶̮̖̱͂̉̽̔ ̵̤͙̺̒́͌̿̈͠s̷̛͔̣̹̱̼͆͐o̸͕͖̘̬̭͒͑̾̆̓̇n̸̡͖̙̗̩̆̀͌̃.̵̬͉͎̞̬͗́͊̀̂̓̕(they killed our son.)
T̷͖͇̱̜̺̳͠ͅh̷̥͍̼̼̥̊ͅę̶̨̺͇͖̹̒͒ỹ̸̟̟̜̗̘̠̓̓̑̑̄͜ ̷̗̲́͊͋̅ͅk̸̻̤͉̝̽͊̃̉̄͒̃i̴͔͙̰̮̐ͅl̸̤̥̭̊̾͘l̶̢̠̹̩͉̦̏͒͘e̷̢͕̠̥̜̘͓̿̈́̏̅͝d̷̪̭͕̓̐͛̿̈̚ͅ ̶̙̱̩̠̄̎̈́́͘̕m̵̪̫͉̲͑͑ͅy̸̢̬̹̞̳͗̃͌̔̔ ̶̢̼͖̼͕̋̎͛͝͠k̶̞̱̘̲̺͔̔̏̇̍̕ǐ̶̜̟͆̍ṋ̶͈͓̱͌͛̑̂͐̇g̸̩͕̻̃̍̔̃̏̚.̵͙̖͐͠ (They killed my king)
T̶͙͍̤̼͕̎͌͜h̴̩̬̞̕̕͜e̷̫͔̟̔͐͒ͅÿ̴̢̢̻̯̩̱́́̇̄͗̑͠ ̸̧̤̪͈̗͈̼̉̓͋̐k̸̢̟̲͝í̵̢̩ͅl̸͈͒̄͋͝͝l̴̡͍̥̱̙̫̣̄̈́͌e̸̛͔̾̒͛̂̉d̴̪̀̓͜ ̴̧̭͚̥͛͗t̶̨͙̬̥͉̼̎͋̍͜h̶͙̲̟̆ḙ̶͕̿ ̶̧̬͒̍͠͝Ḡ̴̨̓ṛ̶͙̺̘̭̮͍̏̒͗͋̇͝e̶̖̙̥͛̄͆̾͋̐̚a̷͚̙̠̙̠͝ͅt̵̰̥̺̹̂̓ ̸̞́̈́Ó̶̞̳̈́̃͋̇́n̴͙̘̤͉͆̆͗̇̈͆̋e̷̛̹͂͝.̵̝̲̣̅(they killed the Great One)
I̵̜͎͎̘͍͒̈̑̄̔͝l̴̝͔̙̞̓͋̅i̶̖͉̠͎͍̽̒ ̸͇̰̝͙̮̩͒̓̒̆̊̚m̷̨̨̘͔̀͊͌̆̈͐̐͜ơ̷̢̺͉͓̤͍̺̒͝r̵̨̧̰͎̓̎̽͒͛t̸̤̲̙̄͐́̈́̕̕͜į̶̧̭̙̗͙͙̊̉̍͛̿̋g̵̜̺̘̙̼͇̃i̵͈̅̀̅s̵̞̯̯̩͖͖̎ ̴̡̤̞̇̾̆̈̓͝m̵̺͈̺̻̫̰̋̽͐̍͛̕͜ȉ̴̮̙̳̄͛ą̵͕̭̲̱͈̒ǹ̸̨̛̫̺̯̥̗́͜͝ ̵̨̳̝͓̼͆͂͂͛̍͘s̴̡̢̟̘̝̠̘̃̏͑̑̎͠à̶̧̛͖̦v̷͚̇̈́́̏͝â̴̢͓̚n̶̢̗͓̘͖̹͂̂̚ṱ̶̒̂̈̃͆ŏ̸̬̥̎̕ń̵̨̛͇̲̫̦̮̎̾̔̀ (ili mortigis mian savanton/killed my savior)
T̸̢̨͍̲̝̣͎͈̖͓͇͈̘͓̐̉̏̉͊̍̈́̋̕h̸̢̨̙͇̳̜͖̎̇͛̈́͜ḛ̶̡̻͕̝̫̣͇̉̅y̷̢͖̤̫̔̎̌ ̵͎͍̭̟̗̼̹̪̠͉̲̍͆̓́͜k̴̢̗̺̘̳̰͎̲͇̃̌͆͂̀̔̾͛͂̉͘͝͝i̶̟̹̳̱̤͚͖͖̫̲̓̾̄̅̆̎͂̕l̴̨̡̡̲̥͓̠̰̼̥̂͑̀͝ḻ̷̡͕̩̫̾͐́͑̓̃́͒̈́͆̿̓͌̚͘ͅȩ̶̡̣̮̯̳͓̼̓̉̽̄̍́̔̓̆̎̀ď̷͈̬̱̂ ̶͖̺̝͉̜͇̅͐̓̆͗̿̋̿̀̍͝b̵̧̮͆̂̄̒̐̿͋͌̆̍̓̈́͘͝ä̴̡̛͔̫̉͆̍̔̄́̈́͝b̸̮͙͛̃͛̀̃̍̓y̵̱͑̈́̽̇̄̓̔̌̚͝͠p̶͈̮̣̠̮͖͇̠̫̫̦̝̩̉̐̂̈́̐͐ǫ̵̯͙͓͚͍̂̊͊̉̾̌̂́͠͝p̷͙̯̪͔̙̗̞̘͙̅̄̒͒̍͛͋̈͋̕(they killed babypop)
T̴̯̮̝͙͕̐̍h̸̡̢̋͌͊ȅ̴̟̼̀̈́̄̀͌͠ý̸̨̯̩͐̎͒͒̒̕ͅ ̶̡͈̝͎̞͗̊͘k̸̭͇͙̬̫̙͊̎͆̓͝͝ͅi̶̦̝̳̪͂̅̈́̑l̷̛͈̭̺̄́̔̈́͋́l̶͙̳̯̩̈́͐e̴͇̰̭͙̙̿͜d̴̛͉͚͍̋͂̀̔̉ ̶̤̞͙͕̃̓͒͐m̴͈̹̟̃y̵̠̜̏̽̐̀́̀͝ ̶̢̥͉̊̊̊͐͝f̶͎̥͉́́ḁ̸̩̤̱̲̬̒̕͘ṯ̷̯̬̘̮͙̚ḩ̸̖͍͌̀̓̃͘ẻ̵̢͎̓͝r̸̨̩̗̘̗̒̈̆̓͂͘̕.̶̥̀͐̓̉(They killed my father)
Ţ̷̠̘̦̍̏̆̍̀͊̚ẖ̷̼̪̝͇̪̥͑e̸̢̨̻͚̬̯̭̊͗̀͝y̵̪͛̾̅́̓̕ ̶̤͕͆̑̓͐k̵̖͎͍̬͙͒̍i̴̛͙̬͚̫̻͑̆͆͂l̵̨͒̂͑l̷̛͖̫̫̳̭̱̀̀ę̴͈͕͖̜͎̋̆͒̓͘̚d̸̢̼͙̬͐͋̎̉͝ ̵̲̥͋̃̆͂͗͝m̷̞̭̖͚̭̣̑͛͗y̶̛̜͎͆̂͑̑ ̸̩̤̫̹́̾̈͂̏ḇ̷̞̱̣̂̋̚̚r̵̛̻̙̯̯̆̋̽̈́̚͝ô̷̱̍̈́t̶̡̙͈̘̹̫͆͒̽͐̏h̴̥̝́͊̅͌̓̔̒͜è̶͙̰̱́̅̾̉̽͂r̴͍͗̍͂̾̂̆.̷̺̖̥̖̹̾̓́̔ (They killed my brother)
Ṱ̵̻̤̩̰͛͆͑͒̍ͅh̸̜̼̅̀̏͒̄͐ĕ̵̲͚͕̓ͅy̷̻̣̭̰͎͊͂̇͛͗ͅ ̴̜̘̣̙͑̄k̵̭̝̹͛͒̽͘ȉ̵̫ļ̴̡͇̺͈̞͐͂̅͑ͅl̶̫̈́̃͊̏ę̶̛͖̪̺̤̌̓d̸̛̤̱͂ ̴̞͇̫̘͊m̴̛͖̩̲͊̏̈́̓͑̆ÿ̵͔͎́́ ̴͎͎͎͕̳͖̭͊͒͋̒͑̿s̷̬̹̔̒̾̉̿́̕͜t̵̹̋ụ̸̩̂̆̓d̷̢̧̪̞̦̻̓́̋̐̇̂e̷̡̢̯̤̜̞͈͛̑̎̿͝ń̵̙ẗ̵̨̛͔̯́.̷̨̟̰̩̲͆̉̚ (They killed my student)
"Stop! Stop!" Flash shouts over the voices, "We can't understand what you're saying! Who is 'They'?!"
The voices stop and the clearest voice they've heard yet speaks.
T̵͔̊h̸̲͑e̴̘͋ ̴̻̋G̴͚̈́h̸̩͌o̵̮̍s̷͍̽t̶̬͛ ̸͍̒Ȉ̵͚n̸͙̑v̴͙̽e̸̞̓s̴̞͘t̷̠̓ĩ̵͎g̷͖͘a̷̭͒ť̵͓i̵̟̇o̶̞̕n̵̨͠ ̸͓̂W̵̱͂a̵̺͝ŕ̷̥d̶͇͒
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deadsetobsessions · 4 months
Text
Sea Cryptic!Danny Phantom- pt. 8
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]
If I had a nickel for every time I’ve been to the hospital in the past three years, I’d have enough money to buy a bag of skittles from Target. Most of it wasn’t for me though lol I’ll add this onto the list in a bit, but I tend to do that from my desktop but I’m still currently attached to an IV drip. I’ve also never been this hydrated in my life lmao
——
Danny poked a puffed up pufferfish. The poison floated through his ghost form and did nothing but give him a little zap. Danny chuckled, wiping away a bit of oil that had gotten onto the fish from a nearby oil spill. Jesus fuck. Danny knew that bald headed, easily drawn Vlad wannabe from across the river would do something terrible to Gotham’s waters (not that it needed help being atrocious to Danny’s clean water appreciation).
The puffer fish- Danny gave up on understanding Gotham’s water ecosystem, having realized that it was a cursed mix of saltwater and freshwater and swamp- gave a fearful little wiggle and Danny let it go, turning to the oil particles floating around.
Danny took out his phone.
“Danny? Why the hell are you calling at three in the morning?”
Danny raised a hand and blasted out some ice, gathering the oil up. “Hey Sam. If I got you into contact with Poison Ivy, do you think you could team up to get rid of Lex Luthor’s new holding company in Gotham?”
“Danny, are you asking me to commit an act of ecoterrorism?”
“That’s not even the weirdest thing I’ve ever asked you to do.” Danny placed a hand on the ice mass and flew it, the oil, and himself across the river to Metropolis.
“Deal.” Sam’s voice gets further away as she pulled her phone from her ear. “I’ll text Tucker, see if he could futz with Luthor’s taxes. I heard her doesn’t even give his workers a livable wage, and that’s so not gonna fly.”
“Perfect! Thanks! We could totally meet up and hang out with my new friends!”
“Hah! That Tim guy? The one that wanted you to introduce Phantom to him?”
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, goth girl.”
“Sure, dork. I’ll swing by Friday?”
“Sure! Want me to pick you up?” Danny phased through Lex Luthor’s frankly ridiculous amounts of security measures, still completely invisible and towing a giant mass of oil covered ice.
“Cool. Now hang up. I actually need sleep.”
“Ah, you must be dead tired. I get it.”
Sam hung up, and a second later, Danny got a pic of her holding up a middle finger with her signature purple nail polish.
Danny stared down at the sleeping billionaire. Gross. He let his face re enter the visible spectrum and lowered the temperature of the room drastically. Luthor groaned, waking up as he shivered like a hyped up chihuahua.
Danny bared his teeth, glowing green skin reflecting the black holes of the universe and imploding stars and burning planets as he leaned towards the frozen two bit villain.
“RESPECT THE PLANET,” Danny snarled. He unmelted the invisible ice as he simultaneously made the oil visible, the entirety of the oil spill coating every single inch of Luthor’s penthouse bedroom. Danny winked out, but not before snapping a quick picture of Lex Luthor’s absolutely covered in his company’s oil spill.
If Danny had made sure that there were fish droppings mixed in with the oil… that was his own damn business.
——
Danny floated over to a brooding Batman.
“Do you have two hundred dollars on you?” Danny asked in lieu of a greeting.
Batman grunted a yes.
“Two hundred dollars for a photo of Lex Luthor being hit with karma.”
Batman instantly handed over the cash and received a printed out photo of Lex Luthor (in his Lexcorp pjs) covered by fossil fuel.
"Is this..."
"The oil from his oil spill? Yes."
Batman stared at the picture.
"Why was this more expensive than ID'ing corpses?"
"Cause it's funnier. And dead people deserve more consideration than a egg looking ass polluting everything he touches."
Superman zoomed into the space in front of them, face eager.
"I heard you had something about Luthor?"
Danny figured that Batman probably contacted the hero, and confidently said, "$200 for personal use, $300 for commercial use."
Superman quickly got together three hundred dollars in cash and quickly forked it over. Danny gave him another physical copy of the photo and a usb drive with the photo in a digital format.
"I am so pinning this up." Superman muttered.
"Get out of my city." Batman said flatly. Superman waved a hand, beamed at Danny, and left.
"Did you know Gotham's waters is a mixture of freshwater, swamp, and saltwater habitats?"
Batman grunted.
"Also, please stop stalking Danny Fenton. It's odd."
Batman swiveled his head over. "What."
Danny stared him down. "Stop. Stalking. Innocent. Bystanders. Or else I will recreate the phrase "drowned rat" with you as the subject."
Batman stilled.
"I don't kill, by the way. I can, however, dunk you in the sea and lift you up like a goth version of Simba."
Batman relaxed minutely. "I can't."
"And why not?"
Batman gave him a despairing look. "Have you met my children?"
"... Point."
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soaps-mohawk · 8 months
Text
Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 4 - You Can Be Useful
Summary: You have a long weekend that ends rather unexpectedly. Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing. 
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, some brief violence at the end.
A/N: I'm in a bit of a crisis so you're getting a bonus chapter this week. It's a beefy one and I wrote like 90% of it yesterday, just had the brain sludge by the time I was close to finishing and decided to rest before I finished and edited. Things are starting to get a big suggestive here, so as a reminder, this fic will have NSFW content in later chapters so please do not interact with it if you are under 18. I'd hate to have to block you.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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“How are you settling in?” 
“Fine.” You shrug. 
“Any instinct to nest at all?” 
You shake your head. “No.” 
“That’s fine.” Dr. Keller says, writing something down. “It’s only been just over a week. Have you started kneeling for Captain Price yet?” 
You shake your head again. “No.” 
Dr. Keller tilts her head. “Why not?” 
You shrug again. “He hasn’t brought it up.” 
“Is that something you’d like to start doing?” 
Her question catches you off guard again. You’re not used to being asked what you want, afterall you’re an omega. That’s not important. You’re here to serve. To do as you’re told. You remember watching your mother kneel for your father while he watched TV, her dazed, glazed over eyes staring at nothing as he almost seemed to hypnotize her into the shell of a perfect omega. It was your first taste of truly how much power alphas could hold over omegas. One hand on the back of your neck and it’s over. 
“I...I don’t know.” You say, picking at your sleeve. 
“You’re allowed to want things too.” Dr. Keller leans forward just slightly, giving you a smile. “I highly doubt Captain Price will make much of a fuss if you ask for something you need. He cares about you. If he didn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting here alone.” She tilts her head at you, watching you pick at your sleeve. “Is there anything you want or maybe need that you haven’t asked for?” 
Softer blankets. A fluffier pillow. Different body wash and shampoo. New clothes. A picture or a poster or something to make your room seem less clinical. Your instincts to finally start kicking in. Price to want you as much as he’s supposed to. Ghost to like you. To go back in time and let Soap kiss you. 
To go back in time and never present as an omega. 
“No.” You finally answer, shaking your head. “I’m fine.” 
Dr. Keller stares at you for a long moment. You avoid her gaze, picking at the seam of your sleeve. “I know you’re going to get tired of me saying this, but it’s important that you understand that this is a safe space for you. Everything that we discuss, everything that you say in here stays between you and me. Doctor-patient confidentiality is something I firmly believe in, even when it comes to alpha/omega relationships. Okay?” 
“Yes, ma’am.” You say quietly, still avoiding her gaze. 
She continues to stare at you for a moment before she leans back on the couch again, shuffling some papers around. “The two betas, Sergeant Garrick and Sergeant MacTavish. How are you getting along with them?” She continues with her questions.
“Fine.” You lean back in your chair, hoping it might swallow you whole. “They’re easiest to get along with.” 
Dr. Keller nods. “Good. I’m a strong advocate for organic pack bonding. Helps avoid any dynamic struggles or false instincts down the line. How are you sleeping?” 
“Fine I guess.” You shrug. “I nap a lot.” 
“There’s nothing wrong with that. Omegas need a lot of sleep and I can imagine adjusting to a new schedule has been rough.” Dr. Keller moves the papers to the couch next to her, looking up at you. “Is there anything you want to talk about?” 
You hesitate, pulling at the seam of your sleeve. It’s beginning to unravel a bit from your nervous picking. You’ll have to fix it. Dr. Keller is right, though. You could just ask for a new one. Price had told you they had a budget for your needs, plus they do get paid well. Anything you needed, they would gladly get for you. 
You just have to ask. 
It’s the asking that you’re not sure you can do. It feels strange to ask anything of your new pack. They’re supposed to be the ones needing things from you. If Soap had wanted to kiss you, he could have. Instead he left it up to you. He let you decide. You wonder if Price’s hesitation to move forward has been because he’s waiting on you. 
They’re all waiting on you, except maybe Ghost. They’re waiting on you to make the first moves, on you to set the pieces on the board. What is the first move? How do you set the pieces? Did you even need to? Would they fall into place organically if you just left them alone? Or would the tension continue to build up, would you continue to affect them until it became too much and the pressure causes everything to blow? 
“I’m affecting them.” You say, the words slipping out before you can stop them. 
Dr. Keller tilts her head as she stares at you. “What do you mean?” 
“They’re soldiers. They’re good soldiers with years and years of training, that’s why they're here. But...but I’m changing that. I asked Price if I could go with them and watch them run a training course cause I read in a book that I should get to know them and the things they like and so I was just curious what they do during the day when I’m not with them. He let me watch and he told me their top speeds running the training course but...none of them met those times with me there.”
You take a deep breath, the words pouring out of you easily now. You feel as if you’re not even thinking of them, not even measuring them or using caution as you normally would in any conversation. They’re slipping out from somewhere deep inside and now that you’ve opened that dam, you can’t stop it. 
“Price made them run through it five times and they still couldn’t match their top speeds. He said it was a good thing that they figured that out, that they need to know how I’m affecting them and how to adjust to me. And every time they ran through it, I couldn’t stop thinking about...” 
You take another breath, the air catching in your lungs. Your fingers are shaking, your body sinking deeper and deeper into the chair, almost as if you’re trying to get it to swallow you whole. As if the chair might wrap its arms around you and pull you into its softness and keep you there until you can’t breathe and it suffocates you. 
“What if it was me? What if they were having to rescue me? I know that’s a risk, a low one, but it’s still a risk. The CIA and Kate warned me that I could become a target if the wrong person found out about me. That’s why I can’t know anything about what they do because that puts me at more of a risk, and I could be a threat to them and the entire world if something got out that wasn’t supposed to.” 
You’re breathing heavily as the words finally come to a stop. Dr. Keller’s eyes are shining with sympathy as she stares at you. This is the most you’ve ever opened up to her, the most words you feel you’ve ever spoken to her in the two times now that you’ve met.
It feels good. It feels really good to voice your thoughts and your fears to someone on the outside, someone you can trust won’t tell anyone. You couldn’t voice these fears to your pack. They’re used to this kind of thing. They live with the knowledge they could die at any point, that any mission might be their last. How many lives have they seen lost, how many close calls have they had? You’ve seen scars already on arms, hands, faces. How many others are hidden where you can’t see? 
How many scars do they have inside, too? 
“I want you to know that your fears are very valid.” Dr. Keller says, her voice soft. “Being involved in the military comes with a lot of risks, and then you get to places like this and those risks only get greater and greater. I can’t promise you that something like that won’t ever happen, because we have no way of knowing. The risk is not zero for a reason.” 
Dr. Keller stands from the couch, moving to the chair next to you. The calming beta scent washes over you, and you know you have to be stinking up the room. She turns the chair slightly to face you, leaning forward onto her knees. You can see the imprints on the sides of her nose from where she’d been wearing glasses earlier. 
“That risk is also only low for a reason. Your identity has been well hidden, just like those of your pack’s. You’re on a well protected and secure military base. This place is a black square on Google Maps. I know, I tried looking it up when I found out where I was being assigned.” She reaches out, squeezing your arm gently. “And I highly doubt your pack would ever let anything happen to you. Packs are highly protective over their omegas. Even bad alphas can’t fight that instinct when their pack is threatened. Your pack would quite literally go to war for you.” 
She is right, you know she is. Yet that fear continues to wiggle at the back of your mind. You know they’d never let anything happen to you, but they’re going to start leaving soon. What if something happens while they’re not here? Who will help you then? The other soldiers? The betas that stare and the alphas that catcall you? 
“I guess you’re right.” You say, continuing to pick at your sleeve. At this rate, by the time your heat starts, you’ll have unraveled the whole sweatshirt.  
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The buzz of your phone on your nightstand pulls you from your half asleep state. Your book is on the floor, having dropped from your hands and slid off your bed as you drifted off. Your lamp is still on, casting a warm glow around your room. You prefer the softer light compared to the fluorescent overhead, as most omegas do. There’s something too clinical and sterile about fluorescents. 
You grab your phone, pushing yourself up onto your elbow as you try to blink the sleepiness away. It’s not terribly late, but you’ve been feeling the exhaustion all day since your conversation with Dr. Keller. 
“Be ready by 0500 tomorrow. Wear something meant for the outdoors.” 
It’s a text from Price, your brow furrowing as you read it over. Five in the morning on a Saturday? That’s the earliest you’ve had to get up since your arrival on base. And wear something meant for the outdoors? You can only imagine what he has planned for the day you had been planning on spending sleeping. 
You make a quiet noise of indignation as you text back in confirmation, setting an alarm so you can be ready by 5 am. Not up by 5 am, ready by 5 am. You have half a mind to call him, or to text back asking why he feels you need to be up before the sun. You know that’s the normal time they begin their mornings during the week, usually when you hear them up and moving around, getting ready to go work out. That’s usually when you roll over and go back to sleep for another hour and a half before your own alarm gets you up for breakfast. 
You pout a little as you set your phone back on your nightstand, reaching down to grab your book and set it next to your phone. You lay back down on your bed, turning off your lamp and bathing the room in darkness. Well, it’s not totally dark. The light from the lamp outside shines in your window, casting cold shadows across the walls and floor. You’ve never been a fan of total darkness. You’d grown used to having some light in the room at The Institute. One of your roommates had insisted on having a nightlight, and there were many nights you were grateful for it as you laid awake at the mercy of your racing mind. 
A nightlight. 
You add it to the mental list of things you want, but you’ll never feel brave enough to ask for. 
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Your alarm rings too early in the morning, your hand lifting to silence it quickly. 4:30 am doesn’t feel like a real time as you rise in darkness, hand fumbling for the switch to your lamp. You glare into the dimly lit room, trying to blink the sleepiness from your eyes. How desperately you want to curl back up under the blankets and sleep until someone knocks on the door to check on you because you’ve slept so long into the day. 
You don’t doubt Price will knock in about 30 minutes to get you up. He’ll be disappointed if you ignore him, you think. He wouldn’t punish you if you went against his wishes, would he? 
You don’t know that. 
You haven’t even thought to push that boundary, nor have you discussed it. You don’t want to. You’re a good omega. 
You’re a good omega. 
You repeat it over and over as you get yourself ready, splashing cold water on your face to wake yourself up. You silently thank Kate as you pull on a pair of cargo pants and hiking boots, assuming that’s what Price means by “something meant for the outdoors.” Had she bought the items in anticipation of something like this happening? You are on a military base. You should have expected you’d be pulled into something like this eventually. 
You’re debating on a jacket by the time the knock comes, right at 5 am. You wonder how long Price has been standing in the hallway, or if he’s perfected arriving right on the dot after years of expected punctuality. You decide on the jacket after checking the weather, slipping it on as you open the door. He hadn’t mentioned needing anything, not that you own any sort of supplies for the outdoors anyway. 
He doesn’t say anything as you open the door, instead motioning with his head to follow. You quietly close your door, expecting the others to be waiting for you, but their doors are all closed and they’re nowhere to be seen. You feel slightly nervous as you follow Price out into the cold morning air, glad you decided on the jacket as your breath steams from your lips. 
Price is dressed in his usual boots and cargo pants with a cargo jacket and a beanie instead of a bucket hat. There’s two packs leaning against the side of the building, Price grabbing one and approaching you. 
“What are we doing?” You ask quietly as he helps you put on the backpack, buckling it across your chest. 
“Going for a hike.” He says, putting on the other backpack. 
“Why?” You ask as he turns on a flashlight, handing it to you before turning on another one for himself. 
“I’ll explain when we get there.” He says simply, motioning for you to follow him. 
You hesitate for half a moment. A hike in the dark? The base is surrounded by forest, but you sometimes forget due to the sprawling nature of the buildings, and your usual ventures outside the barracks being to either the mess or the medical center, all of which were central on the base. 
Why does he feel the need to hike in the dark? Surely it’s more dangerous, especially for someone not quite so physically inclined like you. If he wanted to go on a hike, why hadn’t he just said that to begin with? Maybe he would have, had you asked why last night instead of just immediately agreeing. 
Going into the woods alone in the dark with an alpha you barely know. 
Anxiety twists in your stomach for a moment before you force your feet forward, walking fast to catch up to him. He leads you down one of the roads on base, your boots crunching as the ground changes from asphalt to gravel. Your anxiety doesn’t lessen any as the trees loom high above you in the darkness, the forest like a black void before you. 
Your brain thinks up all the land predators that might exist in England. Do they have bears? You’ve seen Brave, but that’s in Scotland. What about big cats like cougars or mountain lions? Are there racoons in England? 
You’re on a military base, you think. Surely they have means to keep out large predators that might be dangerous. 
Your pack won’t let anything happen to you. 
Dr. Keller’s words float through your mind as you follow Price through the underbrush and into the trees. You’re not following any path, at least that you can see, though your experiences in the outdoors have been very limited since you left home. Your dad liked to camp and hike, and often you and your siblings were subjected to his weekend and holiday trips into the wilderness. 
You missed them in the early days at the Institute. You missed a lot of things back then. 
“What’s eating you back there?” Price asks as you weave through trees and underbrush. 
“There’s nothing...dangerous out here...is there, sir?” You ask, narrowly avoiding taking a branch to the face. “Bears or mountain lions?” 
Price chuckles. “The worst thing you might find is a stray badger or a snake that got through the fence somehow.” 
“Oh.” You say, shining the flashlight around you. “That’s good.” 
Price stops, turning to face you. “You’re fretting.” 
“Well, we’re in the woods in the dark at an ungodly hour and you won’t tell me why, sir.” You pout. 
“Do you trust me?” He asks, staring down at you with a hard look in his eyes. 
You stare up at him, your grip tightening on the flashlight in your hand. “Should I trust you?” 
He straightens up a bit, the corner of his lips twitching. “That’s something you have to decide.” He turns back around, starting to walk again. “All I can do is my best to try and prove myself to you. In the end, you’re the one that decides if I’m trustworthy or not.” 
You’ve never thought of it that way. He could do everything in his power to get you to trust him, but in the end it is your decision. He hasn’t proven you wrong yet, but then again...it’s only been a week. You’ve known him for a week and you’re following him through the woods alone in the dark. 
Your brothers would have a fit if they saw you right now. 
“Do you trust me?” You find yourself asking as you continue to trek through the woods, narrowly avoiding hurting yourself on various occasions. 
“You haven’t given me reason not to.” He answers, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder. “I’d prefer it stayed that way.” 
“I don’t think you have to worry about that, sir. I hardly think I’m much of a threat on any term. Well, at least I don’t think I am. Ghost seems to disagree.” 
Price lets out a quiet huff, shaking his head. “Simon...Simon is a unique case. He’s good at his job, but that makes it hard for him to succeed in other areas. I’m sure Johnny has told you how much Simon couldn’t stand him at first. Now look at them.” He chuckles warmly, almost fondly. “He only sees you as a threat in your nature.” 
You frown, glancing up at the sky. It’s beginning to turn grey with dusk, the trees seeming to come alive around you in the dim light. “What do you mean by that, sir?” 
“You’re an omega. To bond with an omega, there is a degree of vulnerability required by the alpha. Being around omegas requires an openness that can be frightening if you’re not used to it.” He explains. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but Simon isn’t the most open man.” 
You snort quietly. “Hadn’t noticed, sir.” 
Price chuckles at your answer. “You’re threatening to him, because you’re a challenge. Give him time. This entire situation is an adjustment for all of us, just as I’m sure it is for you too.” 
You don’t know how to respond to that statement. It is an adjustment. Joining any pack was, but a pack like this...a pack that has you tramping through the woods at 6 am for a reason you don’t even know yet is a major adjustment. 
Price stops after the sun has come up, taking a moment next to an outcropping of rocks. He clips your flashlight to your bag before unzipping it, passing you a bottle of water. You take it gladly, your mouth feeling dry after walking for so long. 
“How much further?” You ask as he drinks his own water. 
“Quite a ways.” He answers. 
“Can I know why we’re doing this yet?” You ask as he zips your water back into your backpack. 
“Not yet.” He says, continuing onward.
You let out an exasperated sigh, but follow him anyway. You don’t have much of a choice. 
Your legs are beginning to get tired, and you’re starting to feel a bit hungry. You’re not sure if you should say anything, or if he’d even stop. You assume he’s packed food, or at least you hope so. You’re going to get grumpy if you’re traversing all over the forest for hours with nothing to eat. 
Price slows his pace a bit as you approach what you think is a clearing. You can see a break in the trees ahead, the sun coming through brighter here. You’re sore and tired, your phone telling you you’ve been walking for just over two hours. 
How big is this base?
You break through the treeline, finding a small clearing with what looks like a fire watch tower in the middle of it. It’s not what you were expecting, the many scenarios of why you had been dragged out of bed at an ungodly hour and forced to hike through the woods you’ve been thinking up the last two hours, did not end quite like this. You stare up at the tower, your head tilting back to take it in. 
“Not scared of heights, are you?” Price asks, standing beside you. 
“Maybe.” You answer, eyeing the staircase winding around it to get to the top. 
“Come on.” He says, nudging you forward gently. “Up the stairs.” 
The last thing you want to do after walking for two hours is climb a never ending staircase, but you don’t think you have much of a choice. Perhaps you can finally sit once you get to the top, and maybe you’ll even get to eat. 
Price follows behind you as you take the steps, climbing slowly. Your legs are screaming, your feet aching in your boots. You wouldn’t be surprised if they’re bleeding a little, or if you wind up with blisters. You’re breathing heavily by the time you get to the top, sweat beading on your brow. Price doesn’t even seem winded behind you, and you’re sure he could have jogged up the steps if he wanted to. 
The top of the tower is mostly empty except for a small table and two chairs. There’s no windows, the tower open between the railing and the roof. Price sets his bag on the table, unzipping it. You sink into one of the chairs, letting your bag drop to the floor. 
“Can I know why we’re here now?” You ask him. 
“Drink some water and take a breath first.” He says, pulling a couple packets out of his bag. MRE’s. 
You dig your bottle out of your bag, taking note of the other contents inside. A few snack bars, a couple MRE’s of your own, another unopened bottle of water, and a book. There’s things in the other pockets but you don’t bother looking, guzzling down more water. 
You stand from your chair, your legs almost buckling in protest as Price gets the MRE’s cooking. You lean against the railing, looking down over the forest that stretches out as far as you can see below. 
“Can I know now?” You ask, knowing there has to be a good reason for him to bring you out here. 
“A training exercise.” He says finally. 
“A training exercise?” You frown, turning to look at him over your shoulder. It wasn’t a training exercise for you, was it? 
“Sometimes when we get a specific target on a mission, the only thing we have to go off of is a general location and a scent.” He explains. “We have to be able to track that scent effectively, sometimes for miles. We run training exercises out here to test their ability to track scents to hunt down a target.” 
You stare at the sprawling woods, beginning to understand. “So, they’re hunting a scent that will lead them here?” 
Price chuckles lowly, his hands coming to rest on the railing on either side of you. Your stomach flutters as he leans in close, his scent strong in your nose as his breath fans your ear. “Technically, they’re hunting you.” 
Your knuckles go white as they grip the railing, your blood pulsing in your veins. You’re well aware that some alphas like to hunt their omegas. There’s some primal urge deep within your brains to chase and be chased. You’re well aware of how it usually ends, the thought making your stomach clench. 
“You gave me the idea.” Price says, the warmth of his body radiating through your jacket. “When you asked to watch them train, I saw how you affected them, I thought...maybe you can be useful for their training afterall.” 
“Do they...do they know it’s me?” You ask as he steps back from you. You fight the urge to whine at the loss of proximity. 
“They do now.” He says with a smirk. “They’ve already started, so if they can follow your scent successfully, then they’ll be here in about an hour.” He says, looking at his watch. 
You frown a little. “But...we walked for two hours.” 
He smiles a little, pointing to a break in the trees below you hadn’t noticed until now. “That trailhead is a 20 minute hike back to base.” 
Your frown deepens. “But-” 
“We weren’t walking in a straight line.” He explains. “We doubled back and recrossed the trail several times to try and confuse them, just as someone running from them would do.” He passes you one of the MRE’s. “That’s what I want you to do, if it ever comes to it. You don’t fight unless you have no other choice. You always try to run first.” 
“Yes, sir.” You say, sitting down again. You don’t think you’d do much damage fighting anyway, but you don’t tell him that. 
You open the package, peeking at the contents. Some sort of potato hash, you think, but you don’t really care. You’re so hungry you’ll gladly eat the mystery re-hydrated food. Price sinks into the other chair with a quiet sigh, digging into the food. It’s quiet out in the woods, the only other sound besides the two of you the sounds of birds. 
You’ve always loved the woods, the quiet serenity of such isolation. You could imagine Price living in a log cabin miles from civilization, with animals and his own garden, happily living in quiet peace away from the stresses of life and war. You blame the fluttering in your stomach on the lingering thoughts of a chase, of a hunt. The thought of running, trying to evade soldiers who train to hunt others by their scents has goosebumps forming on your skin. 
They’re not from the cold either. 
The sun has disappeared behind clouds, the grey weather of England quickly becoming normal to you. You haven’t seen the sun much since you landed in London two weeks ago, and you’re sure you’re not going to see much of it for quite a long while. 
“What’s got you all twitchy over there?” Price asks, breaking the silence. 
You turn to look at him, your mouth open a bit in surprise. “How can you tell?” 
“I’ve been trained to notice small details, sweetheart.” He says, grinning at you. “Your fingers always get fidgety first. Like you’re looking for something to do with them. Usually they disappear beneath your sleeves, or you start picking at your clothes. Your scent changes too. Subtly, but still noticeable.” 
Oh god. You wince a little bit. He can still smell you, even outdoors in an open area. 
“Your eyes start to move, looking all over the place, like you’re searching for something, or trying not to stare at one place too long.” He continues, making you want to sink deeper and deeper into the chair until you disappear. Of course he can read you like a book. They all probably can. “Your breathing always picks up, fast enough it’s noticeable if you’re paying attention. It’s easy to set you off too, sweet little thing.” 
Warmth floods your face at his words and his stare, the back of your neck prickling. You meet his gaze across the table, the look in his eyes making you feel like you want to crawl under the table and hide. You hate that he can read you so easily. You won’t be able to hide anything from him. 
He probably knows you already have. 
You continue to hold his gaze, not backing down despite the intense tickling at the back of your neck. Touch alphas like a challenge, you repeat it over and over in your head. 
Don’t back down. 
Don’t back down. 
Don’t back down. 
A quiet growl rumbles through his chest, a shiver shooting down your spine so violently it nearly steals your breath. You fight the urge to bear your throat to him in submission, your head tilting back just slightly as your eyes squeeze closed. You’re panting, warmth pooling in your stomach as he chuckles lowly. He’s won, he knows it. You were never going to win. Nature was set against you. Your nature is to submit to him. 
“Innocent little thing, aren’t ya?” He says, pulling a cigar from one of his pockets. 
You know he smokes, you know they all do. You’ve smelled it on them many times, and it was to be expected. Your father hadn’t started until after he joined the Marines. Your mother hated it. “Dirty habit.” She always whispered as she smelled his uniform and the laundry he brought home from deployment. 
He could have had worse ones, you always thought. 
You can’t help but watch his lips curl around the cigar, the scent of tobacco permeating the air. His eyes are still on you, your own lips tingling a bit. You think back to how close you had been with Soap, inches from having your first real kiss. You regret it a bit now, not letting him kiss you. He wouldn’t have known he was your first, except perhaps by your awkwardness. 
You wonder how many times they’ve all been kissed. You wonder how many times they've kissed each other. You wonder how many barrack bunnies Price has been with, how many other omegas he’s been with. You can’t imagine Ghost being one for barrack bunnies, but then your mind sinks somewhere deeper. Ghost in his mask with an omega bent over the side of his bed, his hand wrapped around the back of their neck... 
Another shiver runs down your spine, your lower body beginning to pulse in time with your heart. 
“What’s going through that head of yours?” Price asks, still staring at you. 
“Soap almost kissed me a couple days ago.” You admit, not trusting yourself not to admit to the other things you’re thinking about. 
Price’s brows lift in surprise. “Did you not want him to?” 
Want. There’s that word again. You keep hearing it, but you’re not entirely sure what it means anymore. He’s asking to be sure that Soap didn’t force you into anything, even though you can’t imagine the beta doing such a thing. Betas usually weren’t aggressive without good reason, not like alphas. 
“Well...no, that’s not it...” You say, your face burning as you begin to regret your choice of topic. “I...I haven’t kissed anyone before...well, not like a real kiss. At The Institute, there was this omega, she was...progressive. Nothing they tried could break her of that and she got into the heads of a few other omegas. One of my bunkmates decided she didn’t want an alpha to be her first kiss, so...I volunteered.” 
Price continues to stare at you, a dark look in his eyes. You know some alphas like to watch omegas together. You’ve seen it in movies, things your brothers would put on when they were babysitting, things that would have gotten them hit over the head if your father found out. 
“Is that so?” He finally says, flicking some of the ash from the end of his cigar. “Not even a real kiss before you presented?” 
You shake your head. “No. I was...the weird kid in school. Most people considered it social suicide to be around me.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. “I bet quite a few of them are kicking themselves now.” 
“Why didn’t you want Soap to kiss you?” He asks, concern lacing his voice. He’s still wondering if he needs to have a long chat with the young Sergeant, or perhaps take other action. 
“Well...it wasn’t so much that I didn’t want it.” You say. “I just...thought you might be upset...if you weren’t my first...” You swallow nervously at his stare. “Since you’re pack alpha...you have the right to claim-” 
“I wouldn’t care.” He cuts you off, almost as if he’s uncomfortable with the idea of him having all the rights to claim you. As if he was uncomfortable with the idea of holding a claim over someone else. “If you want your first kiss to be with one of the others, then you shouldn’t keep yourself from what you want.” 
His words echo Dr. Keller’s. It confuses you, their willingness to allow you to want. You’re an omega, you don’t get to want. You get told what to do, what to wear. You get told what to want. You don’t make decisions, you sit and be a good omega for your alpha. 
“I don’t know what I want.” You say quietly. 
“Think about it.” He says, stubbing out his cigar. “I won’t be upset. Makes me feel a little better, in truth. Makes me feel less like an old creep trying to steal your innocence.” 
You try not to smile at his words. “I mean...you are, in a way.” 
He tsks at you but his eyes are playful as he checks his watch. “You’re trouble. We’ve got a few minutes before the hour is up. Let’s see if they can beat it.” 
You stare out at the treeline, taking deep gulps of the cool air to try and calm yourself as you wait for the others to arrive. You’re still tingling a bit from your conversation with Price, that slight tickle still crawling across the back of your neck. You want him to hold you there, feel his calloused skin against yours, feel the strength of his fingers as they press into your skin. You want him to take all the turmoil away, the fear and the insecurity and the confusion. 
You want to kneel for him. 
You’re saved from your thoughts as a familiar figure breaks through the treeline, big and hulking and wearing a skull on his face. You’ve never seen him in this mask before, only ever seeing him in his balaclava. It’s a haunting image, only his eyes visible as he looks up at the top of the tower. Soap and Gaz appear behind him, the three of them making for the staircase. 
Their boots echo on the steps as they race to the top, Soap the first one to appear with a wide grin. 
“Aye, we found the target!” He exclaims, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you into the air and spinning.
You yelp, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hang on for dear life. He smells like musk and sweat, and you can’t help but wonder if they ran here. He sets you back on your feet, your legs aching in protest after sitting for too long. The soreness of your morning hike has caught up to you, and you’ll be feeling it for a few days. 
“Not bad.” Price says, looking at his watch. “For the first time with a new scent.” He grabs his backpack, slinging it over his shoulders. “Come on, let’s get back and you can have the rest of the day off.” 
You let out a whine in protest as Price grabs your backpack, gaining the attention of the four men. “You mean we have to walk back too?” 
“It’s not even a kilometer.” Gaz says with a grin. 
You pout. “I don’t know how far that is! I already had to walk for two hours this morning. My legs hurt.” 
“You didn’t stretch before you started?” Soap asks. 
“No! I didn’t know we’d be hiking halfway across the country when I was told to get up at 5 am!” You continue to pout. 
“Come on, you’ll survive.” Price says, clipping your backpack across your chest again. “You can sleep for the rest of the day.” 
You definitely have blisters, the sides of your feet burning as you walk down the stairs. You’re going to take a very long shower when you get back to base, and then crawl into bed and sleep until someone inevitably knocks because they’re worried about you. You’re still pouting, not having even thought about how you were going to get back to base. 
Soap stops at the bottom of the steps, turning to glance at you behind him as he bends down slightly. “Hop on, hen.” 
It takes you a moment to conceptualize what he’s doing before you break out in a grin, putting your hands on his shoulders to hoist yourself onto his back. His hands grip the backs of your thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding on as he carries you piggy-back style. 
“I’ve lifted weights heavier than you, bonny.” He says, not seeming to struggle at all with carrying you. 
“Well, omegas are supposed to be small.” You say, leaning your head on his shoulder. 
“Aye, like a wee bairn.” Soap laughs. 
He carries you all the way back to base, barely even breathing heavily by the time you break the treeline. The rocking motion of being carried, along with your exhaustion, has lulled you into a daze, your head leaning against his as you desperately fight sleep. 
You’re jostled awake as Soap gently bounces you on his back. “We’re back, hen.” 
You grumble sleepily, holding onto him tighter. “Comfy.” 
“You’ll be comfier in bed, love.” Gaz says, stroking your hair. 
“Carry me.” You murmur, both of them freezing. 
“You sure about that, hen?” Soap asks. “You wan’t tae let us in your space?” 
“Mmm...yeah.” You murmur, nuzzling Soap’s shoulder. 
You miss the silent conversation between them in your half asleep state, the way Gaz’s hand hesitates on the knob, their slow, cautious steps into your space. It was a big deal, infringing upon an omega’s space. It’s sacred. One could only enter with permission, or if it was an emergency. Infringing on that space without permission could be detrimental. 
Soap gently lowers you onto your bed, helping you curl up on your side. Gaz unties your boots, setting them on the floor next to the bed before pulling off your socks. He lets out a quiet hiss as he spots your raw and blistered feet. 
“That’s going to hurt later.” He whispers. “No wonder she didn’t want to walk back.” 
“Didnae say nothing either.” Soap says, his fingers trailing your cheek. 
“Stubborn little omega.” 
Gaz’s words are the last you hear before you’re lost to sleep, your brain forcing you to give in to your exhaustion finally. 
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It’s knocking at the door that wakes you. You’re not sure what time it is, or what planet you’re on. Your eyes are crusty with sleep, your pillow damp from drooling. You’re in your bed in the barracks, tucked under a blanket. You vaguely remember giving Gaz and Soap permission to enter before you were out again. 
It’s still daylight, judging by the light around the edges of your curtains. Or maybe you had slept through the day and it was morning. You can’t tell, feeling a bit like you were hit by a bus and jumped dimensions. 
“C’mon lass, ye got tae eat at least one meal today.” Soap’s voice calls through the door. 
You let out a groan, pushing yourself up to sit. You haven’t even changed or showered, but your shoes have been removed. You flex your toes, wincing at the sharp pain from them. You pull the blanket off, staring down at your bandaged feet. They must be as blistered and raw as they had felt in your shoes. You don’t want to get up. You’re going to be sore and probably walking with a limp. 
You know what they’re going to think. 
The stares you’ll get. 
Soon it will be for that reason, though, you think. Why not let them think it now? Then maybe by then they’ll be used to it and it’ll be much less mortifying for you. 
You get up, padding barefoot to the door. You open it, rubbing at your eyes. “What time is it?” Your voice sounds rough with sleep, your tongue feeling heavy. 
“Almost 1800 hours.” He answers. “Price let ye sleep. He and Gaz already ate. Had something tae take care of.” 
You let out a quiet groan as you rub your eyes. You slept all day, past lunch and nearly past dinner. You likely would have kept sleeping, had they let you, but then you’d be up at an ungodly hour having to scrounge for food in the rec room. 
“Get some shoes on.” Soap says. “We’ll get food in ye, then ye can sleep more.” 
You let out a quiet grumble but do as he says, grabbing your most comfortable pair of shoes before following him out of the barracks. You let your hand slip into his, the base less populated on the weekend. The mess is still busy, though, most of those that stay keeping their schedules even over the weekend. 
Soap helps you make your tray before finding Ghost sitting at a table. You deposit your tray across from them before going to grab something to drink. You look over the options, your sleep-drunk brain trying to decide on what you need. 
“I recommend coffee.” A voice says behind you. 
You spin around, looking up at a familiar face. Your stomach twists nervously, the back of your neck prickling. It’s the soldier that had been staring at you your second day on base, the one Ghost had scared off with his glare. 
“You look like you need it.” He says, giving what you assume is supposed to be a friendly smile, except to you it looks like the grin of a hungry wolf in a storybook, and you’re the injured rabbit about to be devoured. You flinch just slightly as he holds out a hand. “I’m Corporal McKinney.” 
You don’t want to take his hand, you don’t want to touch him at all. Catcalling you could handle, the stares and the whistles were nothing. None of them have been so brave as to approach you before now, and you’re starting to realize you prefer it that way. 
An overwhelming scent suddenly washes over you, the prickling at the back of your neck intensifying. It’s rich and deep, the scent of leather and gunpowder lacing the ozone-like tang of anger, of danger. 
“Can I help you, Corporal?” The deep voice rumbles behind you, the warmth close enough all you’d have to do was lean back slightly and you’d be touching him. 
The soldier’s eyes lift from you to Ghost behind you, the wicked gleam to them fading as he stares down the giant alpha. “No, sir.” The soldier swallows thickly. “Just thought I’d introduce myself to the new omega on base. Figured we’d be seeing a lot of her around.” 
“She’s no concern of yours.” Ghost says, a dangerous rumble vibrating at the edge of his voice. “You were given the briefing.” 
He hesitates and you know he’s measuring the risk of staying, of saying something else. It’s not just the threat of a dangerous alpha, but also of his superior. “Of course, sir.” He finally says, eyeing you once more before he turns on his heel, leaving the mess. 
“What do you want?” 
You turn on your heel, staring up at Ghost. You’re shaking a little, staring up at him wide-eyed. You no longer feel the haze of sleep, wide awake and alert. Ghost is staring down at you, his scent far less prominent than it had been before.
“To drink.” He motions to the selection, waiting on you to answer. 
You stare at the options, your brain trying hard to snap back into the present, to comprehend what you’re looking at. You’re on edge, on high alert after that confrontation. 
“W-Water please.” You manage to stutter out, 
“Go sit back down. I’ll get it.” He says, turning his back to you. 
You scurry back to the table, still trembling as you take your seat again. You’re getting stares, likely from the change in your scent. It’s alerting every alpha and beta in close proximity, their instincts reacting to the scent of fear, of an threatened omega. 
“Ye alright, hen?” Soap asks, giving you a worried look. The scent of beta washes over you, Soap projecting his scent to try and cover yours and calm you all at once. 
You nod, trying to swallow the panic before you alert the entire mess to your current emotional state. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright.” 
Ghost returns with a glass of water, setting it in front of you before taking his seat again. 
“Thank you.” You murmur, taking a long drink of it. It’s ice cold, the sensation shocking you back into reality a bit. 
You’re still trembling slightly as you eat, the back of your neck still prickling. You glance around the quickly emptying mess, eyes following every person that walks too close to the table. You know you’re safe. Soap and Ghost would make quick work of anyone who tried anything. 
Ghost did make quick work of the alpha that had approached you. 
You’re still in a bit of disbelief that Ghost had come to your aid. You remember the anger burning in his scent, the rumble at the edge of his voice. An alpha poised for a fight. Of course, you were being cornered by another alpha. You don’t doubt Soap could have easily won that fight if he had to, but an alpha had the natural advantage in a fight against other alphas. If it had been a beta cornering you, would he have still come to your aid? Or would he have watched and let Soap handle it? 
You're drawn from your thoughts as Soap’s phone rings, and he dismisses himself from the table to answer it. You wonder who it might be. Family maybe? Price? You wish you had someone that would call you regularly. You will, once they start leaving you. 
You’re left alone with Ghost, your eyes trying to look anywhere but at him. He takes your tray once you’re done, going to dump it before motioning for you to follow. You’re still a bit shaken, though you’ve managed to get your trembling under control, as well as your scent. 
He leads you back towards the barracks, your pace faster to keep up with him. Your feet hurt, but you’re eager to get back to the familiar safety of the barracks. 
You stop as a whistle sounds through the air, Ghost’s steps faltering as well. 
“Gonna go spread your legs for that freak, bunny?” A voice calls out across the courtyard. “I’m sure I could offer you a better time. At least you’ll be able to see my face.” 
The smell of ozone washes over you again, burning straight to some primal part of your brain. You’re not sure if it’s the exhaustion, or the emotions still reeling from your confrontation in the mess, but you turn on your heel, stalking over to the group of soldiers. You’re trembling again, but not out of fear. The anger has gone straight to your instincts, burning hot through your veins. 
The soldiers laugh as you approach, the one that had spoken grinning vilely at you. “Gonna take me up on my offer, omega?” The sound of your title from his lips nearly makes you shudder in disgust. It’s wrong, it sounds wrong being said in such a way. “I’d love to bend you over and stare at that sweet ass all night-” 
It’s not until your hand is throbbing that you register what happened. The soldier stumbles back a step, hand moving to his face. Your hand is balled in a fist, knuckles throbbing from the punch you delivered to his face. The next few moments seem to move in slow motion, your body pushed backwards as a hulking form comes to stand in front of you. The scent of ozone is still burning hot in your nose, anger pulsing through your body. Your ears are ringing, your hands refusing to unball from the fists they’ve closed into. You’re breathing heavily, eyes training on a small speck of mud on the back of Ghost’s jacket. 
“-You even so much as look in her direction again, I’ll rip your intestines out, tie them to the back of a humvee and drag you all the way to London, understood?” The dangerous rumble is back at the edge of his voice, his own hands balled into fists. 
“Loud and clear, sir.” The soldier spits out, massaging his face from your punch. 
A rough hand closes around your arm, making you stumble as you’re half dragged towards the barracks. You’re breathing heavily, breaths coming in gasps as the flood of emotions through you grows to almost be too much. You’re led down the hall towards the rec room, Ghost pushing you inside. 
“Sit.” He snaps, pointing at the couch.
You scramble to sit where he pointed, your brain beginning to move in autopilot as you cradle your throbbing hand to your chest. It’s still curled in a fist, the adrenaline pumping through you preventing you from uncurling your fingers. You try to steady your breathing as Ghost digs around in the fridge for a moment. You flinch as the door slams closed, Ghost dropping an ice pack on the coffee table before he takes a seat next to you on the couch. 
He grabs your hand, pulling it towards him rather roughly. He forces your fingers to uncurl, his own rough fingers digging into your hand, poking and prodding. He moves your fingers, bending your wrist and moving your arm. “It’s not broken.” He says, grabbing the ice pack and slapping it across your knuckles. “Luckily.” 
You’re still trembling, your hand lifting subconsciously to hold the ice pack in place. You feel dazed, not unlike you had earlier when you’d been pulled from sleep, only this time you can feel the emotions still pulsing through you. The remnants of anger, the disgust, the fear both from attacking an alpha, and the reprimanding you’re sure you’re due for doing such a thing.
“I shouldn’t have done that.” You murmur, feeling far away, outside of your  body looking in. 
“Probably not.” Ghost says. 
You turn slightly to look at him, pupils dilated as you simultaneously appear to see him and look straight through him. “Price is gonna find out.”
Ghost nods again, the burn of ozone gone from his scent. “He’ll believe you, though. Anything you tell him, he’s going to believe you over what anyone else says.” 
You stare at him, the skull mask from earlier gone, leaving him just in his balaclava. His eyelashes are blonde, you think as you take him in, trying to ground yourself. His skin looks soft, but that could just be the omega screaming at you. You expect him to get up, to leave you alone until you find the will to move, or one of the others finds you. Yet, he stays where he is, eyes focused across the room as you sit there. 
“You’re a purebred alpha.” You say, breaking the silence with the thought that had come to mind earlier. You need to keep talking, to keep your mind steady while you relax. 
“How did you figure it out?” He asks, not denying it. 
“Your scent.” You say, recalling earlier in the mess, the way his scent had permeated your entire body. You hadn’t just sensed it, you had felt it. His emotions, his anger, the hint of desperation for the Corporal to make the smart decision and walk away. “It’s different from other alphas. Price smells good and I’d like to roll around in his scent, but yours hits some deep primal part of my brain.” You say, turning slowly to face him. “Makes sense you’d end up in a position like this. You’re supposed to be like, an apex human.” You laugh quietly. “Just a couple of purebreds. What are the odds?” 
“Very high.” He answers. 
You laugh again. “Yeah, I know. Both of my parents were purebreds, and my grandparents. Both of them came from a long line of purebreds.” Your brows pinch into a frown. “I didn’t see it in your file, though.” 
“I don’t want it to be.” He explains. 
“Makes sense.” You say. “If I’d had that choice I’d have it left out too. As soon as someone sees it, that’s how they measure your worth. It’s not about you anymore, it’s your status they want.” You lift the ice, moving your fingers. Your hand is sore, your knuckles starting to swell a bit. 
“It’ll bruise.” He says, staring down at your hand. 
“‘Spose it could have been worse.” You say, grimacing at the ache pulsing all the way to your shoulder.
“Yeah,” He scoffs. “You could have broken your arm with a punch like that.” 
“‘S not my fault the CIA didn’t teach me much.” You murmur. “They mostly made me run.” You remember the hours and hours you spend running circles around the gym. So many circles, over and over again. 
Get involved in their hobbies. Your brain flicks through that section of the book, an idea beginning to form in your head. You’d considered it a few days ago, when you first read that chapter. Ghost speaks in violence and warfare, fighting and defending. How do you bond with the apex of humankind? 
“Teach me to fight.” 
His eyes shift slowly until he’s looking at you. You wish you could see the rest of his face, read his expression. His eyes don't give you much to go off of, something he'd likely perfected over the years. 
“Or, at least defend myself.” You continue, fighting the urge to shrink back under his gaze. “I know, Price already told me to run first, but what if that's not an option? Am I gonna throw a shitty punch and hope it works? Aim between the legs and hope I'm faster than they can block? I promise I won't go around trying to fight asshole alphas.”
He continues to stare at you, his eyes locked on yours. Your heart thuds in your chest, your stomach twisting nervously but there's no challenge in his gaze, not even a playful one like you'd initiated with Price. He's simply staring. 
You wonder what he's looking for, what he's thinking. Will he laugh at you for asking? Tell you to ask someone else? Get Price to do it since he’s actually your alpha? 
“Fine.” He grunts, breaking eye contact first as he pushes himself to stand. “We start Monday. Early.” 
A small smile tugs at your lips as you watch him leave the rec room. You may have just found your way into Ghost’s heart, or at least a way to get him to tolerate your presence. 
Monday. Early. 
You’ll be ready. 
NEXT ->
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Taglist Part 1:
@bobaprint, @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10
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jaewritesfic · 2 months
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Melon AU Part 4
Cass is quietly adamant that her new cling-on be taken to the Batcave, no matter the concerns Bruce raises.
If he's honest, his protests fall a little flat even to his own ears. The fact of the matter is that he looks at the midnight apparition she holds and just…can't bring himself to fight very hard.
The creature clings to her like a desperate child, claws curled into her cape in a way that's bound to leave holes. Bruce hasn't caught so much as a glimpse of the face since it grabbed onto Cass, head resolutely tucked into her shoulder. That long sinuous tail is wrapped around her waist and down one leg as if the slightest disconnect could wrench them fully apart.
She was right, it's scared and it needs help.
Bruce almost thinks convincing Commissioner Gordon to lift the police barricade at the end of the alley will be the difficult part, but he's proven wrong. Gordon is more than happy to foist the situation off onto the Bat colony, it's just a matter of figuring out actual transport.
It's not that Bruce doesn't want the creature in the Batmobile. It's that nobody is sure the creature will respond well to someone other than Cass being in proximity to it.
Bruce may be feeling distinctly sympathetic, but he's still not comfortable leaving his daughter totally alone with something strange, unknown and dangerous.
He doesn't want Cass alone with it - them. They probably won't respond well to anyone but Cass being close enough to be in a car with them.
Ultimately this culminates in Bruce pulling the Batmobile around and trying to be very. Very. Quiet.
The shadow creature hasn't raised their head from Cass’s shoulder once, so hopefully as she climbs in the back with her clingy cargo they won't notice they're not alone.
…nobody is going to claim this is a good or creative plan. It's kind of just the only option they can think of.
The creature clicks and whines as she climbs in, aware and nervous about the enclosed space probably, but they don't raise their head or move.
If anything they just wind themselves around Cass a little tighter.
“Shhhh,” Cass hushes gently. “Car. Take us to safe place. I promise.”
Bruce is used to her cowl enough to be able to tell she's glancing at him in the rear view mirror.
Thankfully, the Batmobile can autopilot to the cave. His presence is solely because he refuses to leave her alone with their new…guest. That means he can sign at her.
Did you get a better look at the injuries?
She shakes her head minutely. Hm. Bruce had feared that was the answer, considering how fast the creature had plastered themselves to her.
Do they seem to be losing a lot of blood?
A tiny shrug. Not a yes, not a no. Bleeding, but not gushing. Or maybe she's not sure how much without a visual, though if it was egregious she'd feel it even with the suit.
The heat of it, the slickness.
Bruce decides the shrug is a tentative good sign.
“Let's play questions,” Cass says suddenly, hands rubbing gentle, comforting back and forth patterns against a back so dark it looks like a void. “Nothing scary. Get to know you questions.”
There's no answer, but it doesn't seem to faze her. Of course not. She's Cass.
“Will you play? Tap once yes,” she says softly, tapping the creature's back with her index finger once, “And twice for no. No is okay. You can say no.”
There's a long moment where Bruce watches them in the rear view and nothing happens. Then Cass's cowl shifts in the way that means she's smiling.
“Thank you. Pronouns first, okay? One for she-”
She taps once.
“Two for he-”
She taps twice.
“Three for- oh. Thank you. Good boy. I'm she.”
The rest of the family exposes themselves as listening, quiet murmurs and exclamations over the comms at the new knowledge that their creature considers himself male.
Bruce isn't surprised that his kids have been listening with baited breath.
“From Gotham? One for yes, two for no.”
She hums softly, going back to petting his back gently.
“Me neither at first. Home now, like the back of my hand. Can show you all the best spots. Like burgers?”
There's a long pause. Bruce suspects the creature is having a hard time believing she's talking about and proposing such casual topics.
Eventually she smiles again. “Me too. Will buy you Batburger, I promise. Nectar of the gods.”
An odd little vibration goes through her new friend, audible as well as visible. It seems almost like a weak laugh.
“....bets on shadow noodle’s favorite Batburger order?” Dick asks over comms.
Bruce purses his lips not to huff in amusement. They're almost to the cave, he'd like to stay incognito until then. He wouldn't want to alarm any shadow noodles.
Masterpost
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henneseyhoe · 4 months
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Just One More.
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Lewis Hamilton x BLACK!FEM!Reader
WARNINGS: SMUT SCENES(nun too serious)!!! HEAVY breeding kink(i couldn’t help myself), Wife!reader, pregnancy, Dad!Lewis, Lewis being a hornball, some fluff here and there,SHORT! UNEDITED FOR RN! I think that’s it!
SUMMARY: After having twin boys, Lewis begs his beloved wife for one more baby, hoping this time it’d be a girl.
|2|3|4|
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“You said one more, right? Just one more”
He smirks as he bounces you his arms, your body helplessly following with the flow as you couldn’t do anything with your legs folded how they were anyhow.
“One more” You whimper with a nod of your head, your brain not even coming close to calculating what you had gotten yourself into.
“One more, baby” He confirms with an innocent tone like he wasn’t currently folding his wife like a lawn chair, running the risk of waking your twins up even though they were down the hall.
Days passed and you couldn’t get his hands off of you, the man giving not one moment to allow you to collect yourself after a simple agreement that you’d stop taking your birth control. At the time you hadn’t even stopped yet, but he was still prevalent with his ‘you never know’, hoping somehow you’d still get pregnant.
You’d get home from work and before you were able to take your heels off he’d be warning you that the kids were asleep now so you’d have to keep it down and only asked about your day in between kisses and ripping off your shirt, the answers being halted as soon as you were bent over the arm of your couch and fucked from behind by your eager husband, the grip he had on your hips enough to bruise.
It was clear that Lewis wanted nothing more than a daughter. Of course he loved his two hard headed boys, but a daughter? She was a dream he’s had for a while now. He felt he needed a girl to soften him up after raising two little boys for five years, and he was determined to get one out of you. Lewis was ready to be surrounded by princesses, glitter, pink and hair bows.
For the last few weeks he spent time getting you alone so he could fill you to the brim, taking you down anywhere that had a lock on the door or a surface to lay you on, sometimes not even that. The first time was in the laundry room when you were drying clothes, a month after you told him yes to a baby, a day after he was 100% sure you stopped taking your pills. Closing the door behind him and setting a basket in front of the door to avoid any unwanted little guests, your husband casually pulls up your sundress as you were loading the dryer and slides your panties to the side, the man on his knees with his tongue on your clit before you could even tell him you were busy.
The next time he took you down was in his personal gym, him just finishing a workout and you in the middle of your much needed yoga to stretch your sore muscles from the damage he had done the other night. Catching you in a downward doggy position, you felt his fingers shamelessly run between your lips that were covered by your favorite gym shorts, the pads of his fingers pressing against your clit almost making your knees buckle. You slowly look up from your position, making eye contact with him in the mirror in front of you.
“May I help you, Mr. Hamilton?” You ask.
“You already know what I want, Mrs. Hamilton” He responds back in a sing-song tone and before you knew it you were getting creamed on a workout bench, Lewis using his fingers to stuff what had spilled when he pulled out back inside of your pussy. You sat there tired and absolutely bewildered with how feral your husband could get sometimes. Last time he was on ten like this you two scored twins, and you could only pray the twins that run in your family wouldn’t catch up to you again.
The next day you thought you were free of the teenage boy-ish sex drive your husband had. The twins were home and using the living room as their personal playroom though they had their own, and you took that as an excuse to distract them with toys as you read your favorite book in the kitchen where you could see them. Unluckily for you, the ADHD they inherited gave them the ability to not exactly not focus, but focus a little too much. Lewis had turned on their favorite show and made sure the volume was three notches higher than what it was supposed to be before sneaking into the kitchen with you.
You could feel he was up to something as you side eyed him from the sitting nook, but surprisingly he walked right by you, your eyes following him all the way to your home office. He knew you hated him in there.
You slam down you book after marking your page and follow after him, only to realize you had been duped when you heard the door close and lock behind you. You were starting to almost regret telling him your ovulation cycle.
✮✮✮✮
When you two got the news that it was twins, you were both in shock, Lewis a bit more over the moon than you of course because who wants to incubate twins for the second time around, but you both were happy nonetheless. The real kicker was finding out that one of them was a boy, and the other unknown.
“What do you mean you can’t see it? Is there something wrong?” You asked nervously and Lewis squeezes your hand, already knowing how your nerves were.
“Well, not really. The problem is that twin A is still blocking twin B. This is your last few weeks and it’s a bit camped in there now, so they’re kinda just laying in an uncomfortable position. Even if I were to do a vaginal ultrasound, it’d be pretty hard to tell” Your doctor chuckles, making you sigh in relief and look at Lewis, his face unreadable.
When you two left the building and went home, you could tell Lewis was a bit disappointed.
“You okay?” You ask, holding the hand he had placed on your thigh as he watched TV. He nods and gives you a small smile, his eyes not moving from the screen.
“You know I wanted a girl, but obviously god has other plans. It’s okay, really”
You hum. “…Look on the bright side, baby B might be a girl” You smile back, your husband laughing and shaking his head.
“Let’s be real! It’s gonna be two boys again”
“You don’t know that”
“I do. And it’s okay…We’ll always have another time to try for a girl” He smiles wider, looking to you.
You blink for a moment, realizing he was serious. “…Another time?! You are out of your mind!” You hit his arm and he groans, begging you in the mist of your refusals.
“Absolutely not, Lewis! You said just one more months ago and that one more turned into two!”
“So you wouldn’t want to try again if they’re both boys? Really?”
“Lewis, if this one is a boy, I might move out. That’s your answer!” Lewis bursts into laughter as your hand moves to your round belly, feeling a kick hit right below your belly button.
“And one of them is beating on me right now! I can’t live in a house with five boys, I can’t even believe I let three of them plus an alleged one stay inside me”
“Well…Four plus an alleged one. One of them was just on and off..In and out” You gasp at his dirty joke and shove him again, more laughs erupting from him.
✮✮✮✮
💌:i’ll probably make another part to this just cause Dad!Lewis is superior and maybe write an actual smut too idk yet
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skipper1331 · 6 months
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Secret // Alexia Putellas
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| Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | extra |
Everybody knew that Alexia was a private person - she only shared the information she wanted to share as she was very selective in her choice of words and very careful about whom she told what.
And even though that facade dropped around her friends and family, she still kept you a secret - she preferred it that way - having you to herself and not having to deal with headlines like 'Alexia Putellas dating her Barcelona teammate.' and the drama that it could cause.
Whenever it was just the two of you she was the sweetest girl, treating you like a princess and being totally in love with you while when other people were around, she kept her distance, acted strictly professional and didn‘t show any signs of affection.
The only person who knew about you was her sister, Alba and she only found out by accident.
-
"mi amor, you‘re so beautiful" the midfielder admired, kissing along your jaw, "I can‘t get enough of you" she found her way down to your neck, completely lost in the feeling of you before a certain spot on your neck caught her attention where she gently created reddish marks.
Just because nobody knew about you, didn’t mean that it would stop Alexia from silently claiming you.
Her fingertips ran along your exposed skin as your shirt had riddled up, leaving the midfielder craving for more.
The Barcelona player continued to mumble sweet nothings, planting some last even sweeter kisses on your neck before she reached up to your lips, kissing them with every ounce of love. Alexia always kissed you like that, letting you know that you caused the butterflies in her stomach.
Tugging on your shirt, she signaled that she wanted it off. Happily obeying, you took it off, her hands now wandering around your bare upper body as she was back kissing you with so much passion and love.
"Ale- do you know what-" both of you froze at the same time, your girlfriend shielding your exposed body as her sister stood in the door frame, "oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!" she covered eyes, rushing out of the room and slamming the door shut.
"mierda!" Ale was off of you in an instant, throwing your shirt back to you.
"I‘m Alba!" the younger Putellas called threw the door, "we haven‘t meet yet. I‘m her sister!"
You chuckled - wrong move as Alexia glared at you, marching out of her bedroom.
"Do you ever knock?!" she said angrily, pulling her sister away, giving you the time you needed.
"I thought you were asleep! You didn‘t open the front door when I knocked" the sister defended herself in their mother tongue.
Alexia huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose, "so, who‘s she?" Alba asked.
Perfectly timed, you exited the bedroom, walking towards the sisters in the living room, "I’m Y/N" you smiled nicely, offering your hand.
"Alba" she introduced herself once again, returning your smile and shaking your hand.
"She‘s my girlfriend" the midfielder huffed, annoyed that her little sister caught you, "20€ if you don‘t tell anyone about it" the older one said.
She would pay money to keep you a secret? Don‘t get me wrong, you didn‘t want to be public as you loved the privacy both of you had as individuals and together but you did hope for that she would at least tell your friends and family. All you wanted was to hold her hand and not to worry about standing too close to her.
The sparkle in your eyes died down, feeling stings in your heart but nonetheless respecting Alexia‘s wishes.
"I don‘t need your money" Alba stated when she saw the way your face fell, "you could have just said please."
You felt more than rejected in that moment.
"You won‘t tell anybody about this" she ordered this time now, her jaw clenched and voice firm - captains order.
Alba walked towards the door, "I‘m going to the car, mamá is waiting. Hurry up" before she left, only Alexia and you left in her apartment.
"I‘m sorry amor, I forgot that we were having lunch together." the midfielder explained, not knowing nor realizing that her behavior had hurt you as she was just apologizing for the incident of Alba walking in.
"You can stay if you‘d like" she smiled, putting on her shoes.
After she had laced her last shoe, she pulled you in by your hips, kissing you good bye, getting a bit carried as the feeling of your lips locked was addicting.
-
You loved being Alexia‘s girlfriend but you didn‘t like being her secret.
To be honest, it didn‘t bother you at first but after 6 months, you started to think about at least telling your family (officially you hadn‘t even met Alba before) and friends but every time you proposed the idea of it, she got defensive and annoyed, so you didn‘t bring it up again.
After one year, you slowly started to think that maybe she was ashamed of being seen with you, just being with you or of you as her behavior got more and more secretive day by day - she didn‘t even act like your friend in training.
You didn‘t know where it was coming from because whenever you were behind closed doors, she was the most affectionate person who loved to cook for you or just sharing the same air made her heart and brain go love sick. She was indeed very much in love with you yet afraid to show this love outside of either of your apartments.
Sometimes you wished that she would take you out for dinner - it didn‘t have to be fancy at all, McDonalds would be simply enough - you just wanted to experience a date night.
And even though, she made home as romantic as possible, it wasn’t enough anymore. You craved for more.
Sometimes when you saw Ingrid and Mapi openly in love, you felt jealous. You wanted that too.
They were your friends and you were so happy for them as they matched each other perfectly but you couldn’t help but feel envy. You envied what they have, imagining how it would feel like with Alexia - hoping to have that with Alexia, one day.
-
"Do you want to go out tonight? Frido told me about this new restaurant!" you said smiling.
The midfielder looked up from her notebook, pausing the tv as she replayed Chelsea’s matches (the club Barcelona would face in the uwcl semi finals)
"Is it takeout?" she asked.
You shook your head - no. "We can go out" you tried again, flopping next to her on the couch.
"Amor!" she grumbled as all her notes fell to the ground, now not sorted anymore.
"Sorry"
"I‘m preparing for our upcoming matches, you should join me in fact, so you know how Chelsea will play. We can order takeout - you know I don‘t like going out with you" she sorted through her notes, grumbling and huffing at the non existing order. She hadn‘t realized that her words were harsh and in fact rude.
You got the message - she didn’t like going out(side) with you, she had made that very clear.
"I can get you some food from there tomorrow" she added, her voice gentle and the wrinkle between her brows gone as her notes were back in the correct order.
It didn‘t help though, you felt hurt. Was it that bad to be seen with you? You‘re a Barcelona player, her teammate - and friends get food together all the time, so why can‘t you get food together as friends? Nobody would suspect that the two of you were more than friends, right?
"Are you hungry? Do you want me to cook something for you, mi amor?"
Again, you shook your head, scrolling through your phone while you acted tough and unbothered by her comment as she didn‘t even notice how harsh her words had sounded before.
You sent a message in the group chat with Ingrid and Frido, asking if they wanted to try out the restaurant which the Swedish woman had discovered. Both of them agreed within seconds.
-
The two of you laid in bed, Alexia‘s arms wrapped around you as she whispered sweet nothings in your ear. It became a routine for Alexia to lull you to sleep while tracing patterns along your skin. She loved doing so and she loved watching you sleep - you looked at peace.
Something about tonight was different though. Normally, it wouldn’t take long for the captain to soothe you to sleep but after 30 minutes, you still were awake, mind seemingly not finding any rest.
"¿Qué pasa?" she whispered in the dark, gently pressing a kiss to the exposed skin on your shoulder.
"It‘s been over a year, Ale, when will you introduce me as your girlfriend? Or take me out on a date that isn’t in here?" your voice was almost inaudible. You knew it was a sensitive topic for Alexia, the girl always denying your requests on telling someone and shutting you out after the conversation and also avoiding you for the rest of the day. "Amor.. we‘ve talked about this" she said, pulling her hands off your body.
Coldness hit your body while the parts were her hands had rested burnt down.
You turned around, looking at her, the moonlight the only light source "all I’m asking is for some recognition." you admitted, almost pleading for her attention outside of either of your homes.
"But I see you. I see you in training and after training, why is it so important to you that people now? We won‘t have any privacy!" her voice raising slightly.
"Alexia… this has nothing to do with the media. I want to meet your family! Or go on a date and wear very nice clothes. Is that too much to ask for?"
"You‘re right. Lo siento, amor" her hands cupped your cheeks, resting her forehead against yours, "I‘ll try to be better"
-
Over the next few months, Alexia’s home started to become your least favourite place - you felt like you were trapped in a cage.
Nothing had changed.
She loved you behind closed doors while she couldn’t even look at you in training.
Each day that passed, more of your heart broke. Your motivation faded - football was your work and no longer a passion.
And Alexia could tell. Your passes were sloppy and your tackles were harsh.
As soon as you had arrived in her apartment, she began complaining about your attitude.
You were not having it.
You started yelling at each other, rude comments leaving both of your mouths,
"You promised me!" you shouted, all hidden anger and hurt discovering the surface, "you promised me and nothing has changed! I‘m your dirty little secret!" you spat.
"Alba knows about you, isn’t that enough?!"
"You offered her fucking money to keep her mouth shut!"
"What do you want?!"
"I can‘t do this anymore, Alexia. I don’t want to think about whether my girlfriend is ashamed of me or not."
"What are you talking about- amor?"
"I‘m worth more than that."
"Please- give me a chance"
"I did, Ale, more than once" you walked towards the front door, bending down to put on your shoes.
The captain followed, so overwhelmed by what was happening that her persona took some turns, "If you walk out that door, we‘re done!"
your hand was resting on the doorknob, ready to leave.
You looked at her, "Behind that door, we never existed anyway."
And with that being said, you left.
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littlemelaninfics · 6 months
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Just One More
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WARNING: Overstimulation, crying reader, language, fingering
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“No, no, no, no!”
There you are, 4 orgasms in and writhing wildly in Bucky’s arms as he continues to rub circles around your clit. You're trembling with tears streaming down your face while you desperately try to get away from the torturous manipulation of his hands. All he could do was smile as he keeps the cold, heavy metal of his left arm tight around you middle.
He kept pulling you back into his chest when you couldn't help but buck your hips and gasps for breath, “Bucky… please… no more, I can’t-”. He puts two fingers in your abused opening,
“Yes, you can,” he says sternly, mouth pressed to your ear. The bass in his voice vibrates the wires in your brain. He's all you crave.
He lets out a deep breath when he slides a third finger into your hole. You were helpless and at his mercy. Your hands are trapped behind your back, between your torsos with a red Christmas ribbon he found. Your legs were trapped between his so when you tried to close them, he just had to spread his wider. There was absolutely nothing you could do to stop him from playing with your sensitive pussy.
“Ohhh, I’m not done yet, Baby. Not yet.” He pulled his fingers out and went back to the same speed on your clit.
“Oh my god, Sir… fuck, please, don’t stop,” you moan loudly, trashing in his grip when the tight coil in your abdomen comes undone. Wave after wave of pleasure crashing through you. You're full on sobbing in blissful agony before going tractable in his arms. All your body could do was tremble from head to toe when he pressed his nose into your slick neck and finally slips his fingers out of you. He loosens his hold on your torso, allowing your legs to close a bit to give you a well deserved moment. You go to close them more when he cups his hand possessively around your pussy. He’s still not done.
You start to cry again; the combination of the tears and your whining making you sound so pathetic and helpless. He just eats it up.
“Noooo… Bucky, please, no more… stop, I- I can’t… please, no…”
“Shhh. You're doing so well for me,” he says, pressing his lips against your temple. "What do you say to get me to stop?"
He laid a light tap to your swollen petals, "tell, y/n. Stay with me."
"Brooklyn," you said in the faintest whisper.
"Why?"
"It's where we met...FUCK!"
He doesn’t wait another moment before slipping two fingers back inside your sopping pussy, making you cry out when they graze your ultra sensitive walls.
“James-FUCKKK!,” You drag out as you sit your head up to watch his attack on you,
"You want me to stop? Say it and I'll stop." He knew you wouldn't and he reveled at the fact that he had complete control over you. The fact that he didn't reprimand you for using his legal name meant that he was having way too much fun in this torture session to even care.
“No! Please don't stop…” His fingers reached the spot that undoes it all and your eyes roll back as you place your head back on him, completely quiet.
"Jesus fucking Christ," Bucky watches, mesmerized that it's him who's making you cum like this.
You whimper in his arms, gulping in large breaths that pass right by his ear from where my head is resting on his shoulder. Your entire body is trembling. Your sweaty skin sliding along his own when you try to wiggle away from his touch.
You stay like that for a moment before he presses another kiss to your temple. By this time, your eyes are closed and you're starting to come down. Your breathing stables until you feel a heavy, icy sensation start to travel back to your overused cunt.
"You've been such a good girl for me. I know you can give me another, Baby.”
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navybrat817 · 3 months
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Hold You Tight: Part 4
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Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.
Part 3 | Series Masterlist | Part 5
Chapter Summary: You try to continue the date like "normal" after Bucky's promise.
Chapter Word Count: Almost 3.4k
Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, unease, tension, possessiveness, mental and emotional whiplash, reader is trying to stay calm, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.
A/N: More Hold You Tight! Hope you lovelies enjoy and thank you again for the feedback so far! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . I no longer do taglists, so please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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“You’ll be out of your apartment before the end of the month.”
The statement played on a morbid loop in your mind as Bucky pulled you up from your chair. The guard gave you two plenty of room to enter the penthouse again. You looked at him, trying to convey in your expression that you needed him to do something. Anything. The man gave you nothing in return. It was pointless to try. He worked for Bucky, not you. He wouldn't care.
“Did you mean what you just said? Your promise?” You asked as you followed Bucky to the dining room table. You wanted him to take it back, to tell you it was a joke. He couldn't make you leave your home by the end of the month. He had no right.
“I think you know the answer,” he said, pausing when you yanked your hand away and crossed your arms.
“And I think you have a lot of nerve,” you uttered as he pulled out your chair. “Where the hell do you get off? And how do you even plan to get me out of my home? It’s not like you own the building.”
You had no idea how deep Bucky’s pockets ran. There was a chance he could buy the building tomorrow or bribe someone into evicting you. Would he stoop that low?
“I adore you, Kotyonok, but I’m not going to tell you and ruin the surprise,” he smiled, gesturing for you to take a seat. “And you haven't seen me get off yet.”
You ignored his comment as you sat down and stared into the flame of the candlelight. The familiar scent of the meal drifting from the kitchen put you at ease for the most part, but your stomach turned. Would this really be where you'd spend your meals from now on? It didn't matter that the penthouse was beautiful. You had a home. Maybe it wasn't as nice as this, but it was still yours.
Did Bucky care about your distress at all?
You blinked when you saw your wine glass on the table. The guard had grabbed both of your glasses from the balcony. For a man of his size, he sure as hell moved quietly. “Thanks,” you whispered, taking another swig to help calm your flaring nerves.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
“You know, I was so excited to have you in our home I don’t think I introduced the two of you,” Bucky said as the man stood tall. “This is Raymond, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you call him Ray since you’ll be seeing a lot of him.”
You bit the inside of your cheek. Bucky said “our” again. Not “his”. You wanted to go back to bed and hide under your covers. “It’s nice to meet you. Is it okay if I call you Ray?” You asked, not wanting his boss to speak for him.
How and why did he work for him anyway?
His eyes were a brighter shade of blue than Bucky’s, but still had a touch of coldness. Though his expression did soften a fraction as he considered your question. “You may. And it’s nice to meet you, too,” he replied, nodding toward the kitchen before he stepped back.
The chef walked over seconds later with plates in hand, a large smile on his face. “Here we are. We have the…” You tuned him out as the dish was set in front of you, your eyes on Bucky across the table. He didn’t look at the chef either, your gazes locked in a silent battle. Your hand began to ache before you realized you were gripping the handle of your knife. You released it and looked away, but you caught his smirk anyway.
He won.
“Enjoy!” The chef finished, clasping his hands together.
Bucky shot him a look before he could walk away. “I’ll enjoy it once I know she does,” he said, his smile soft as he turned his attention back to you. “Dig in.”
A beat passed and all eyes were on you, waiting for you to have the first taste. It was unsettling to say the least as you blindly grabbed a piece of flatware to take a bite. You slowly chewed the food and wished you could've appreciated the additional flavors the chef added to make your favorite meal that much better, but being under the scrutiny of the entire room took away the delight.
“It’s delicious,” you announced, bringing another piece to your mouth. The chef’s audible sigh made it hard to swallow. What would Bucky have done if you didn’t like the food? “Thank you.”
“Yes, thank you,” Bucky added, still gazing at you like you were the center of his world. “Ray, would you show him out please?”
The chef didn’t have to be told twice as Ray wordlessly led him away.
You didn't miss the way Bucky's eyes followed your motions as you continued to eat. They told you he’d rather have you for the meal. That he’d reach under the table at any moment and part your thighs to gather the taste of you on his fingers. You firmly pulled your legs together.
“Are you not hungry?” You asked. He hadn't touched anything on his plate. Too busy staring at you. Why was he so fascinated with watching you do something as mundane as eating?
“I wanted to make sure you ate enough before I dug in,” he answered, finally taking a bite. He groaned as his eyes slipped shut, the sound making you press your legs even closer together. Being handsome didn't excuse a thing and you refused to let him get to you. “You're right. This is delicious.”
You averted your eyes when he ran his tongue over his lips. “Well, you hired him, so I imagine he's an amazing chef.”
“He is. I’m not a bad cook, but I don’t cook as often as I'd like.”
You nodded. Running a club likely kept him busy, but he could've used his free time cooking or doing something else instead of looking into your life. You ranted about that already though.
“Maybe we can have a day of the week where we make a meal together. We’ll take turns picking different meals to try, like pizza. We’ll have to make a pizza together,” he said, leaning forward as his eyes lit up. “I could even set up a projector on the balcony if you wanted to cuddle outside and watch a movie. Or we could do something indoors.”
“What if I don't want pizza? Or a movie night?” You asked, trying to gauge his reaction since you actually enjoyed pizza and movies.
“If that isn't what you're in the mood for, we can figure it out together,” he offered.
“Can we?” You asked, pushing a bit of the food around with your fork. “Or will you just make the decisions for me?”
You were speaking as if you planned to continue with his delusion. That you would actually have dinner dates and movie nights and cuddle. Things you always wanted with the right partner. The one you chose.
He twirled the knife in his hand before he pointed it at you. “I told you I don’t want to control you.”
“Yet you’re putting me in a cage.”
“You have a lot of freedom,” he retorted, taking another bite. “It’s not like I’m telling you to stop spending time with your friends or not have hobbies. I just want you close by. And about your job-”
Your eyes flashed. “If you’re about to tell me I have to quit, I will throw wine on you.”
“Thought you said it was too delicious to waste.”
“I’ll throw your glass on you and enjoy the rest of mine,” you said, warmth creeping up your neck when he chuckled. “Don’t laugh. I’m serious, Bucky. I’m not going to quit my job. I don’t care how much money you have. I love what I do.”
He laughed still, but held a hand up on surrender. “Kotyonok, I won’t make you quit your job. I know you love being a florist and I’m not about to take something away that makes you happy.”
You reigned your inner claws in. “So, I can keep working like normal? And why are you calling me Kotyonok? What happened to doll?”
“Doll, Kotyonok, you suit them both.” He reached up and ran a hand through his hair, looking every bit like the king of his castle. “And you can.”
“Oh. Well. Thank you,” you said, wishing you didn’t feel the need to thank him when it shouldn’t be his decision to begin with.
The two of you ate in semi-comfortable silence after that. You wanted to trust that he wouldn’t mess with your job, but he was interfering in the rest of your life. Maybe it wasn’t a cage he had you in after all, but he did have you on a leash.
Either way, you were his pet.
“Dance with me,” he stated once your plates were clear.
“There’s no music,” you said before a soft melody began to play in the room. You glanced around and tried to find where the speakers were. Ray must’ve turned it on.
You allowed him to help you up from your seat to hold you close. You bit back a protest when he guided your hands to rest at the base of his neck. There was hardly any room between you as he rested his hands on your hips and helped you sway to the slow beat. It contrasted with how your heart raced and you had to close your eyes to escape his gaze.
“I felt like I’d been asleep for a long time until you came along. You woke me up. Made me feel,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead. “We’ll be happy together.”
His words had you catching your breath. He wasn’t the kind of predator who went right for the kill or the kind that merely stayed in the grass to bide his time. This was a cat and mouse of sorts. He caught and released you. The scary part was you didn’t know how long he’d hold onto you before he sank his teeth in or how long he’d let you run before he caught you again.
“I really want to kiss you,” he murmured, your heart thudding more as he rested a hand on your cheek.
“Not on the first date,” you said, hoping it sounded more like a tease than a complete refusal.
He chuckled and brought his lips to your ear. “What does our second date get me?”
You didn’t want to say the wrong thing, especially since he was playing along. But how long would you be able to fight off his want for you? “I guess we’ll play it by ear,” you answered.
“Making me work for it. I respect that,” he said, checking his watch as the song changed. “Speaking of being respectful, I should probably get you back to your place.”
As eager as you were to leave, you still asked, “No dessert?”
His heated eyes swept over you as he traced the diamond necklace with his finger. “I want you for dessert, but I’m trying to be good,” he replied, his voice husky as you held your breath. “I also made sure we’d have dessert to share in the car. Why don’t you go get your clutch and we can go?”
“Sure,” you said, taking one last look around the place as you went to get it. Bucky went to Ray and whispered something you couldn’t make out, but you went to the door instead of trying to eavesdrop. You didn’t want to know what the conversation was about. If it didn’t involve you, well, it wasn’t your business to begin with. And if it involved you, you were bound to find out anyway and you were too tired and mentally drained to deal with it.
A bath and more wine wouldn’t even help.
“I hope you like it,” Bucky smiled, holding up a small container as he joined you with Ray right behind him.
“Let me guess,” you said, taking the container from his hand. “It’s my favorite.”
“Of course,” he said, opening the door and putting an arm back around you.
You looked back when Ray didn’t follow you into the elevator, wishing he’d join you so you wouldn’t be alone with Bucky in there. You supposed it didn’t matter. Would he stop his boss if he tried anything or just look the other way?
It was surreal to leave the penthouse. You half expected him to go back on his word and not let you go. You glanced at him as the elevator went back down to the garage. Besides being a walking red flag, he was still a mystery.
“You said your mom would’ve loved me. Past tense,” you said, seeing his jaw clench. “Did something happen to her?”
He tightened his arm around you as the elevator stopped. “She’s gone and that’s a topic for another day,” he said, pausing to give you a tender smile. “But thank you for asking.”
The man had issues, but you hadn’t meant to touch on a sore topic. Why were you asking personal questions about him anyway? You weren’t his girl. He wasn’t going to be your guy. This wasn’t a fairytale. If it was, he would be the villain disguised as a king.
Bucky helped you back into the car, once again not waiting for the driver, and got in beside you. He barely had the door closed before you pulled you into his lap, the container almost falling from your hand as the other went to his chest. “Bucky, what are you-”
“I said you could sit in my lap after dinner,” he smirked, running a hand along your thigh. Your body went rigid as his hand trailed higher. “I won’t do anything except feed you.”
You stayed perfectly still as he moved his hand away and opened the container. He promised he wouldn't force anything tonight, but you didn't want to throw fuel on the fire by shifting and inadvertently teasing him. It would be fine. A short drive and you’d be back at your apartment.
“Open,” he ordered. You obeyed, your mouth opening up for him to place a piece of the dessert on your tongue. He swore under his breath as you closed your mouth to chew and his hand found its way back to your thigh. “Swallow it, Kotyonok.”
You were lucky you didn’t choke, the normally sweet treat sliding bitterly down your throat. He probably imagined saying those exact words to you in a very different sort of scenario. Feeling his hips move slightly beneath yours, he was likely imagining it right this second.
“Good girl,” he sighed, feeding you another piece before he buried his face in your neck. “I can't wait until you're really home.” His breath tickled your skin. “I won't have to say goodnight and watch you walk away. You’ll be beside me and fall asleep in my arms.”
“In your home,” you whispered, tilting your head to give you some space, but he followed.
“Our home,” he corrected you. “End of the month.”
Your chest ached, but you breathed evenly. You were almost home and could panic once you were alone. “It’s too soon. You understand that, right?”
“I went too long without having you by my side. You understand that, right?” He asked, cupping your cheek to make you look at him. “You went too long without me, too.”
It wasn’t fair that he was trying again to prey on your loneliness. “Bucky, you have to give me some leeway here.”
“We can figure it out together,” he said, the same thing he said during dinner. Dismissive. He thought he was going to get his way. And he would, wouldn't he?
“Well, we aren’t figuring that out tonight,” you said, pushing off his lap when the car came to a stop and fixing your dress since it rode up. “Good night.”
He stopped you from getting out. “I have to walk you to your door.”
“I’m not letting you in,” you warned. You needed your space.
“You do remember that I can get in your place without you opening the door for me, right?” He cupped your cheek again when your eyes rounded. “But I won’t do that tonight. I’m just making sure you get in safely.”
“That’s ironic coming from you,” you mumbled.
He chuckled and helped you out. Your building normally looked like a safe haven, but it was like there was a clock overhead counting down the moment until it was no longer yours. “I really do love how sweet you are, but I love your claws when they come out.”
“Careful. I just might scratch you.”
He groaned, leading you inside. “You know, you’re welcome to scratch up my back. Leave your mark on me and I’ll leave one on you.” He winked when you caught his eye. “And in you.”
He caught you when you stumbled. “Stop saying stuff like that, please,” you begged, straightening yourself out. You weren’t sure how much more you could take tonight.
“I can’t help myself,” he said, taking your phone from his pocket once you got to your door. “I had a really nice time tonight.”
His fingers touched yours as you took your phone back. “I had a nice time, too,” you said. Under normal circumstances, a romantic dinner and diamond necklace would’ve been a dream come true. “Good night, Bucky.”
He lingered as you unlocked your door. You turned to remind him that you weren’t inviting him, but you couldn’t speak when he leaned in. His lips brushed the corner of yours, all too gentle and intimate.
“Sweet dreams, Kotyonok.”
You ducked inside without another word and locked the door, listening for his footsteps. It took a moment, but you heard him walk away before you slid to the floor. It felt like you could finally breathe again since you were home and he wasn’t going to bother you again tonight.
Your heart sank though when you checked your phone and saw a message from Addison.
“Change of plans for tomorrow and I’m so sorry, but Brady somehow got us a reservation at The Terrace. Can you believe it?! Maybe we can hang out the day after?”
Tears burned your eyes. You were looking forward to seeing her. It would've been nice to pretend that everything was normal. Or maybe you would've told her at least something about your situation.
Your mind drifted to Bucky. The Terrace was one of the best restaurants around and usually booked a couple of months in advance minimum. Was it a coincidence that Brady somehow got them reservations on the day you were supposed to hang out with Addison or did your new suitor have something to do with it?
Speak of the devil, you received a new message from the man himself.
“Thank you again for the wonderful date. Are you free tomorrow night? I’d love to introduce you to some of my friends.”
Your eyes narrowed. The second you see that your plans are broken, he messages you? If you didn't think he meddled before, you certainly did now.
“I don’t have anything to wear.”
He messaged back seconds later. “Yes, you do. I can have it sent over or have it ready for you here.”
You huffed out a laugh before a couple of tears fell. Meeting Bucky’s friends would be another step in his plan to make you his. If they didn’t like you, maybe they’d sway him into forgetting about you. It was wishful thinking. Because you knew in your heart that Bucky wasn’t going to let you go.
But if he was going to play, maybe you could find a way to throw him off his game.
“I actually have plans. Maybe another time.”
You didn't bother looking to see if read the message or if he responded. Your life was your own. Bucky would have to deal with it. But knowing how he handled things so far, he’d find a way to have you on his arm tomorrow night.
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Yay to @targaryenvampireslayer for guessing who the guard is! And what's Bucky going to do since you declined meeting his friends? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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The Imperfect Couple - 1 | Bucky
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Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader
Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.
Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 ,Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , -
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Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
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You were exhausted. Having just returned from covering another incident, you were familiar with the grueling reality of being a journalist in a foreign country.
Limited access compared to local reporters made the job even more challenging. Despite your fatigue, this was the career you had chosen and loved.
When you arrived at your apartment, you noticed a woman waiting for you. She was shorter and bustier than you, with curly, short red hair. The woman approached you with a confident stride.
“Hello. My name is Natasha,” she introduced herself, handing you a business card.
You glanced at the card, noting her affiliation with the Secret Service.
Is this for real?
“Yes. How may I help you?” You asked, confusion evident in your voice as you fumbled with your keys at the doorknob.
“I’m here to bring you back home,” Natasha replied.
“Why?” you asked, still trying to process why a Secret Service agent would be looking for you.
“Because your husband is looking for you,” Natasha said.
You froze, your mind struggling to make sense of what you had just heard. Turning slowly, you looked at Natasha, your face betraying a hint of incredulous amusement. “I’m sorry? You must be mistaken. I’ve been divorced for years.”
“Yes, I know the story,” Natasha said, her tone steady.
“Goodbye then,” you said quickly, attempting to close the door. The mention of your ex-husband was something you had left behind, and you wanted nothing to do with it.
“The divorce was never finalized,” Natasha said firmly.
“What?” you exclaimed, your eyes widening in disbelief. You had signed the documents, or so you thought. You swung the door open wide and saw two more men standing beside Natasha, their presence making it clear you were outnumbered—three to one.
“Seems like you’ve come to understand the situation,” Natasha said. “I’ll explain everything, but for now, you need to follow me.”
What she meant by following her quickly became apparent as the men gently but firmly guided you toward a car.
Inside, you hoped Natasha would provide answers, but she continued making calls, leaving you in a state of growing frustration.
Upon arriving at the airport, you realized it was not a regular one but a private jet facility.
“Let’s go,” Natasha said, gesturing toward the plane’s stairs.
As you climbed aboard, you noticed Natasha following closely behind. An air steward offered you a tray with a cup of jasmine tea. You took a sip, the delicate aroma providing a brief moment of comfort.
“Let me guess, this is his plane?” you asked, your tone tinged with suspicion.
“Yes,” Natasha nodded.
As the plane took off, the tension in the cabin was palpable.
“You still haven’t said a word,” you remarked, trying to break the silence.
“Because of the timing and for precautions,” Natasha said, her expression serious. “You won’t like what I’m going to say.”
“Tell me something I don’t hate more. You know how much I despise my ex-husband and his family,” you snapped, the bitterness clear in your voice. The memories of their interference and disdain for your background still stung deeply.
“Your husband is going to be the candidate for Vice President,” Natasha said, her voice steady despite the gravity of the news.
“...What?” you replied, your voice barely a whisper as you processed the information.
Natasha didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she pulled out a tablet and handed it to you. On the screen, you saw a video of your ex-husband. He stood proudly in a suit, smiling and raising his arms as the crowd erupted in cheers.
The title beneath the video read, “James Barnes: The Youngest Candidate for Vice President.”
You gasped, your disbelief palpable. “This is a joke.”
“Hundreds of supporters don’t think it’s a joke, ma’am,” Natasha replied, her tone matter-of-fact.
“And the reason I’m here is because he needs you,” she continued.
You clenched your fists in anger. The reason for your resentment was clear: his ambition and his family’s obsessive involvement in politics. Their relentless meddling had been one of the key reasons for your separation.
“Turn this plane around,” you demanded, your voice strained. You didn’t understand why, but exhaustion was overtaking you, and your eyes felt heavy.
Natasha glanced at her watch, a hint of sympathy in her gaze. “You must be feeling sleepy.”
You widened your eyes and looked at the tea cup, realizing its effects. You shot Natasha a glare, frustration mixing with fatigue.
“I’m just doing my job, ma’am,” Natasha said, accepting a blanket from the air stewardess.
You wanted to protest, but the energy drained from you. As your vision dimmed, you felt a wave of drowsiness. You closed your eyes and succumbed to sleep.
Natasha watched you as you fell asleep, then carefully draped the blanket over you. She turned to her colleagues with a resolute expression. “Tell him to pick up his wife.”
✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️
You slowly regained consciousness, your head feeling heavy and foggy. As you blinked open your eyes, the reality of your surroundings became clear: you were still on the airplane, but it had stopped moving. The plane had arrived, and you were still groggy from the drugs.
“Welcome home,” a familiar voice said.
You widened your eyes, trying to focus on the figure before you. There, standing with a knowing smile, was your ex-husband, Bucky.
His smile seemed almost out of place given the situation, and you found it impossible to return it. You struggled to sit up, your limbs feeling leaden.
“Of course,” you said, your voice thick with sarcasm. “The last thing I needed was to wake up and see your smug face.”
Bucky’s expression remained impassive. “Careful now. You wouldn’t want to offend the future Vice President.”
“Future Vice President, huh?” you shot back, your irritation flaring. “Is that why you dragged me back here? You need a trophy wife to complete your perfect image?”
“You’re not just a trophy wife,” Bucky said, his tone dripping with condescension. “You’re a crucial part of my public image. A divorce would be a PR disaster.”
“Is that right?” you snapped. “You’re using me as a prop, aren’t you? You couldn’t just leave me alone. Some of us have lives outside your political games.”
“You think this is bad?” Bucky said, frustration seeping into his voice. “Imagine what would happen if the public found out about our separation. It’s all about maintaining appearances.”
“You’re still the same,” you said, your anger flaring.
Bucky’s expression hardened. “Let’s be honest here. You wouldn’t have left if you didn’t think I was using you. But if you think this is a game, you’re wrong. I need you to play along until the election.”
“And if I refuse?” you challenged.
“One year,” Bucky said, his gaze steady. “Until the election is over. Then I’ll give you anything you want. Just play the part of a happy wife until then.”
You knew why he needed you. His political career depended on maintaining a perfect public image. Only a few people were aware of your separation, so you had to pretend to be a happy married couple to avoid public scrutiny.
As you struggled to stand, Bucky stepped forward to help you. His touch was steady but impersonal. Both of you exited the jet, greeted by a throng of press and cameras. The narrative they were fed was clear: the Vice Presidential candidate picking up his sick wife.
With the press closing in, you turned to Bucky and said, “I see you’ve thought this through. Dragging me back here like a prized possession. What’s next? A public appearance where we hold hands and share a tearful reunion?”
Bucky met your gaze with a calm but resolute expression. “It’s not just about appearances. The election is critical, and I need stability. Having you here will help maintain that.”
“You’re the only one I could turn to. I need you,” he said.
The words “I need you” echoed with the same urgency he once used, the very words that had drawn you to him. But now, they felt hollow.
Bucky’s expression remained unchanged. He had no apologies to offer, and the facade of your ‘happy marriage’ had to remain intact.
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