#i have two. TWO of these fuckers and neither of them are responding

[puppyeared]

pen broke

[hanasnx]

i desperately need more thoughts and ideas about baby daddy!anakin bcos why has that never crossed my mind??? that sounds so 😵‍💫

baby daddy!anakin.

MINORS DNI 18+ NOTES: isnt it so 🫠 WARNINGS: f!reader | baby daddy!anakin | toxic behavior | sexual content: smut but not too in depth | kinks: breeding, degradation | jealousy | you and anakin have a son together | no y/n

! ── You aren't married to ANAKIN SKYWALKER, even if he asked you— begged you to. It's not the right move, it's not what you want, and you won't let him bully you into doing "the smart thing" as he calls it. It's partly his fault you got knocked up, and he's acting as if marriage will magically solve it. He's not the kind of person you can share a life with, and you're not comfortable seeing him as often as you have to when you trade off your son to him. He's learned some boundaries, keeping his distance. Unfortunately, you fell for him and all his crazy tendencies. So it was more than difficult for him to sweep them under the rug when you two split. He noted how you responded negatively to when he came over unannounced, saying it was because he missed his son, when that was guise to see you. You responded even worse when he'd barged in after he threatened to break down the door. So he learned that he won't get what he wants when he does them. Even though, at one point, you liked those things about him. You liked that he took what he wanted, and now he has to repress those urges in order to be allowed visitation to his son at all.

! ── Of course, there are things you miss about him. You don't like the idea of teaching anyone how to please you, so the easiest thing is to ask him for his assistance since he's already an expert in the field. After heavy debate, you decide to call him after a bad date. “Hello? Is everything alright?” he demands into the receiver. This untimely hour could only be explained by an emergency, and his first thought is something happened to his son. “Hey.” your response on the other line is a sigh. “Everything’s fine. Can you come over?”

! ── Once the floodgates open, it takes no time at all to unravel each other. He knew he missed you, but he didn’t realize how much until you’re a quivering mess underneath him. Your dress having been hastily ridden up around your waist so he can twist your body to meet his needs, folding your legs up as he leans on you. That fat cock you adore being driven into the deepest parts of you, kissing that spongy spot inside you exactly how you like it. No one can do it like him. As frustrating at it is. You're partly to blame for his infatuation, you can't stay away from him either. Letting him do this to you, fuck you like this, planting those seeds of need within you.

! ── When you and him first split, he couldn't know about the dates. You would avoid tipping him off about them at all costs, anything to evade his potent jealous rage. "You've walked with my child growing inside you. And some stranger thinks he lays claim over you? What about me? Does my hard work mean nothing? Must I do it again?" As if you'd make the same mistake twice, let him breed you for a second time so you're reliant on him again. Or worse, you'd make the same mistake with someone different. Does he think that little of you? You and him were just stupid kids when your son came into the picture. Neither of you knew what you were doing. You're smarter now... aren't you?

! ── Now you use your dates as leverage. Make him angry, make him fuck you harder, make him fuck you like he's never fucked you before. Talk shit about whatever guy you let hit before you called him to "clean up that fucker's mess." and how after this, you'll "kick him out like you always do. but you can't stay away from him long." He'll even degrade himself, "And I'll keep coming back too. You'll do the same damn thing next week, act like you want nothing to do with me. Treat me like a stray. Only to get soft and horny and call me to come give you a fix 'cause you can't do a thing for yourself. You're a fucking addict, you know? I'm tired of it. But I'll keep doing it, because I'm the only one who fucking will. Only one who can handle you, isn't that right?"

! ── When the entrance sounds familiarly, he opens the door to the bedroom. Shirtless, and black pants hanging low on his hips, he leaves you spent in your bed as your son gets inside and realizes who's over. Your son breaks from the babysitter's hand, sprinting towards him. "Dad!" he exclaims. He stoops, catching his son in his arms to scoop him up. "My love," he responds tenderly, cradling the back of his son's head as their cheeks press together. "You're here!" his son notes with awe. You can hear them through the walls, smacking your hand against your forehead. He wasn't supposed to let your son know he was here, the babysitter's early. Fuck, now your son is gonna insist he stay for dinner or something. That's exactly his plan, isn't it? Use your son to get closer to you.

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

Your Problem, My Problem, Everybody's Problem

Summary: Reader is in love with an immensely annoying pain in the ass. Eddie Diaz is an immensely annoying pain in the ass.

TW/CW: Eddie Diaz x Kinard!Reader, Fluff?, Get Together

Requested?: No  

Word Count: 3,928

A/N: I needed to take a break from my wips so I decided to use a prompt from my prompt list but then I couldn't decide which one I wanted to use so I shoved a whole bunch of them into one imagine lmao. This was supposed to be silly goofy crack but turned into something more. Anyway, hope you enjoy! Much love to all! Requests are Open!

Prompts Used: (In Order, Not All of Them Are Word for Word) 20, 99, 100, 83, 91, 80, 42, 76, 74, 33, 22, 88, 64, 87, 94, 50, 52, 78, 97, 96, 92

--- Your POV ---

    I brush my fingers through my hair as I trudge up the stairs to the station loft. As soon as I make it to the top, I notice a catastrophe on the other end by the couches. Buck and Eddie seem to be attempting to put a bookshelf together, or at least I think it's a bookshelf. It looks a little wonky and very unstable. I pad over to lean on the back of a couch as they bicker and argue over the instructions. I watch them for a moment, noticing Eddie's back muscles flex as he snatches the instructions from his best friend and tosses them over his shoulder. I shake those thoughts from my head, reminding myself I annoyed at him right now and flop over the back of the couch. I land criss cross apple sauce and roll my eyes at them, "Do you guys need a hand?" 

    Buck snatches his hand away from the bookshelf and scowls at his pinky before sucking it and shifting his gaze to the offending shelf. Eddie looks back at me over his shoulder, "Does it look like we need help?" 

    I tilt my head at him, "Do you really want me to answer that or would you like to maintain plausible deniability for later?" 

    He rolls his eyes and squats down to fiddle with a screw just as Buck stands up and shakes his hand in pain, "Uh, Eddie... We could probably use some adult help." 

    Eddie doesn't even look away from what he's doing, "Buck, we are adults." 

    Buck looks over at me with a slightly frustrated look on his face before dropping his head back to stare at the ceiling, "Yeah, but like... an adult who is more adultier than us." 

    He looks down at Eddie who snaps his head up to glare at him, "Buck, we are two grown ass men. We can handle putting a damn bookshelf together." 

    I snicker, "Oh, so it's a bookshelf. I thought it was some weird art piece." Eddie tosses a hand out behind him to flip me off as Buck sighs in defeat and kneels down to resume helping him. I shake my head as I pull out my phone and begin scrolling through Twitter, "I swear, working with you fuckers feels like being on a reality tv show." Realizing my phone is almost dead, I sigh in frustration and get up, "Don't hurt yourselves." Neither of them responds as I make my way downstairs to grab my charger. I have just pulled it out of my locker when I hear a crash from upstairs. I wince and look back toward the loft, turning to follow my line of sight.  

    When I tip toe up the last few steps, Chimney is standing in the kitchen with his hands on his hips, shaking his head. Buck and Eddie are staring at each other with almost an accusatory look plastered on both of their faces. The bookshelf is gone but as I approach the couch and sit back down, I find that it's actually just collapsed. I sigh, "I left you two alone for maybe ten minutes." 

    From the kitchen, Chimney laughs, "Apparently, that's ten minutes too long." I look back as he heads toward the stairs and scares the shit out of me when he trips on thin air and barely prevents himself from falling down the stairs by catching the handrail. He looks up and over at us with an expression that reads, "You didn't see that," before proceeding down the stairs carefully. 

    I look back at Buck and Eddie who also witnessed Chimney's mishap and shake my head, "I'm surrounded by idiots." 

    Eddie bends over, picking up the instruction manual as Buck points at me with the screwdriver in his hand, "We may be idiots but at least we're hot and hilarious." I roll my eyes and go back to scrolling on my phone after plugging it up to charge.  

    Buck looks to Eddie, "Can we use the instructions this time?" 

    Eddie, who is angrily glaring at the booklet, grumbles, "Whatever." The two go back to their construction, this time following the manual step by step. 

    I feel like I've scrolled a few miles with my thumb, to the sound of Buck and Eddie bickering, when I feel someone messing with my hair. With one hand, the other still scrolling, I lazily swat at whoever is behind me and attempt to tug my head away. Gently they grab my head, forcing me to be still, "Shhh, stop fussing. I'm just braiding your hair."  

    Realizing it's just my older brother Tommy, I huff in annoyance but let him continue, "Maybe when you're done you can help these two numbskulls figure out how to build their little bookshelf." 

    He chuckles but has no chance to speak before Buck looks away from the shelf with clear frustration on his face that melts away upon seeing his boyfriend, "Hi baby. (Y/N), can I ask you a dumb question?" 

    Without thinking, I answer, "Better than anyone I know." 

    Tommy softly swats my forehead, "Be nice." 

    Eddie lets out a laugh before putting on a mocking pout as he looks back at us, "Someone is cranky." 

    I shoot him a bird, "Someone needs to shut the fuck up." I tilt my head back to look up at Tommy, interrupting his braiding, "They're like hurricanes in human form." 

    With a grin he gently nudges my head back up, "Trust me, I know," and resumes his little project. 

    Now with his head inside a shelf compartment, Eddie muses, "So small and cranky. It's kind of cute." 

    He pulls his head out and looks over the instruction booklet lying on the coffee table as I shoot him a nasty look, "Eddie... shut the fuck up or I'm throwing you over the damn balcony. You are-" I interrupt my own sentence in confusion as I watch him walk to the edge of the balcony and look over to the floor below. With a tilt of my head I dare ask, "What are you doing?" Tommy removes a hair band from my wrist to tie off the braid before wandering over to help Buck. 

    Eddie turns to face me with a smug grin tugging on his lips, "Checking to see how high the drop is." Shrugging, he turns his back to me to return to the shelf, "See if it's worth it."  

    I hear Tommy ask Buck what his question was as he patiently helps him position a shelf. Buck shrugs, "I forgot." 

    I clench my jaw, eyes still drilling holes into Eddie's back, "Tommy?" 

    My brother gives Buck a few instructions and hands him a screwdriver, "Yes ma'am?" 

    "Is it still murder if I give him a heads up?" I ask, feigning innocence. 

    Tommy turns to look at me with a scolding expression, "That makes it a threat, (Y/N)." 

    He returns to helping Buck as I grumpily go back to my phone with a pout, "Damn..." 

    Eddie is now digging through a bag of screws, "You know, (Y/N), violence isn't always the answer." 

    I force my eyes to stay locked on my phone as I snap back, "Maybe not but is AN answer. I've been wanting to kick your ass all week. Don’t tempt me." Eddie bursts into laughter as he finds the screw he needs. 

    Tommy looks up from the instruction booklet and frowns at Eddie, who notices and guiltily goes back to the shelf. Tommy returns to Buck's side, "Why is that, (Y/N)?" 

    I toss my phone down on the cushion under me and my hands into the air, "Because he's been deliberately annoying the piss out of me all week!" 

    Tommy hands Buck a few screws, "How so?" 

    "The other day SOMEONE," I glare at Eddie who has his head back inside the shelf, "wrote 'Honk if you love dick' on the back window of my Bronco with one of those window paint marker things. I didn't see it until Buck pointed it out." I pout as Tommy grins and both Eddie and Buck struggle to hold in their laughter. "It's not funny! I drove through downtown LA with that on my window. I was confused as fuck because I had several people honk for presumably no reason."  

    Buck and Eddie burst out laughing and Tommy, seeing the sulking pout on my face, takes a deep breath to curb his own, "Okay, so what does that have to do with Eddie?" 

    "I immediately knew he did it when he nearly hit the deck because he was laughing so hard and I punched him for it but he swore up and down that he didn't. I asked him why he was laughing then and his response was, 'Because whoever did is a fucking genius.'" I cross my arms over my chest and huff. 

    Tommy sighs deeply as Buck looks up at him, wiping tears from his eyes, "I washed it off for her but she proceeded to interrogate everyone in the station trying to find the culprit." 

    Tommy doesn't look at me, obviously trying to hide his grin, "No luck?" 

    I open my mouth to respond but Eddie beats me to it in a fit of giggles, "Nope, she even threatened to chop Ravi's balls off with the bolt cutters." 

    Tommy chances a look at me and finds me glaring at Eddie who is grinning at me innocently in attempts to calm my wrath. My brother sighs and looks at Eddie, "If she kills you, I'm gonna resurrect you so she can kick your ass again." 

    Eddie whips his head toward Tommy with an offended expression and hands up in a questioning manner, "Why?" 

    Tommy shrugs and turns to help Buck position another shelf, "Because I think it'd be funny."  

    Eddie sucks his teeth and goes digging through the bag of screws again, "I'm telling you I didn't do it." 

    Buck slams his palm against the shelf to knock it into place, "We checked the cameras. It wasn't there when she left the night before but was when she came in the next morning." 

    I jolt up from where I had plopped down to lay on the couch, "Doesn't mean he didn't do it! He knows where I live." 

    Eddie points at me with a screw, still very amused, "Correct but, like I told you several times already, I took Christopher to the movies that night." I roll my eyes and plop down on the couch with a groan. The room falls quiet aside from the various noises of bookshelf construction and occasional quiet instructions from Tommy. I have wracked my brain trying to figure out who was guilty for defacing my precious Bronco in such a way but I always come up empty handed. Something dawns on me as I remember I had stopped at the bar that night to see an old friend. 

    I shoot up like a rocket, "Do you think-" 

    Hunting for screws again, Eddie interrupts me, "All the time. I'm a good thinker." 

    I shoot him an aggravated glare, "That's not what I meant. Do you think-" 

    Eddie snickers, "Yup." 

    I hurl a throw pillow at his head, "Will you quit that? I'm trying to ask you guys something." 

    Eddie takes a deep breath, about to say something irritating again, but Tommy slaps his hand over his mouth, "Ask away." 

    I grin triumphantly, "Thank you." 

    Tommy nods, hand still silencing Eddie, "You're welcome." 

    I open my mouth to speak but, "Ugh! Now I've forgotten what I was gonna say!" I flop back down onto the couch. Tommy rolls his eyes at Eddie who has jerked away from him and burst into giggles.  

    Buck tilts his head to look around Tommy at me with an understanding look on his face, "Whenever I forget what I was going to say I just think back through the conversation that led up to it." Tommy mouths a, "Thank you," to Buck who grins proudly before nodding at me. Eddie rolls his eyes sassily and returns to the shelf.  

     I tap my chin with my pointer finger, "Well, we talked about the damn window marker vandalism and how I interrogated everyone. I explained how I still think Eddie did it..." I sit up straight, "Oh! I was gonna ask, do you guys think," I pause with a glare in Eddie's direction but he just grins at me and continues working so I continue, "that some stranger did it while I was at the bar that night?" 

     Tommy shrugs and stands up to admire their progress, "Highly possible." 

     Eddie gets up as well and dusts himself off before looking at me, "And to think you threatened Ravi's manhood for nothing." 

     Eddie only grins wide when I give him the deadliest glare known to mankind, "I'm gonna threaten your manhood if you don't shut the fuck up. And unlike with Ravi, I will follow through." 

     Buck is still working on the shelf as Tommy ruffles his hair before taking a seat beside me on the couch and pointing for Eddie to help him. I glare daggers into Eddie's back as he obliges. It's quiet for a few beats before Tommy leans over to whisper so quietly in my ear that I barely even hear him, "I know your secret." 

     Not taking my eyes off Eddie and not bothering to whisper, I seek clarification, "Which one? You're going to have to be more specific there, bud. I have a lot of skeletons in my closet that even you don't know about." 

     He again whispers but I can hear the grin on his face, "I think you're in love." 

     I whip my head to glare at him so fast that my neck cracks, "I think you're delusional." 

     He grins and looks back toward Buck and Eddie, "I think you're in denial." 

     Having completed the bookshelf, Eddie makes his way over to us with Buck right behind him, "Closet skeletons? Delusional? In denial? What are we talking about? Give me the tea." 

     I raise an eyebrow at him, "First of all, never say, 'give me the tea,' again. It sounds weird coming out of your mouth," Buck snorts out a laugh, "Second, we're talking about how you're a sack of shit, fuck off." I punctuate my explanation by flipping him off. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head as he walks away chuckling. 

     Tommy is not convinced and very determined to make me feel called out, "(Y/N), when he's not looking, you stare at him like he's everything you could ever want or need." 

     Hoping he hears how offended I am in my tone, I refuse to look at him as I respond, "I call bullshit. That's slander." 

     A look of realization crosses Buck's face, shortly followed by a hint of teasing in his tone, "He's not wrong and you know it." 

     I groan dramatically and slam my head against the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling, "You guys are starting to get on my nerves too. Don't you think he does that enough for all three of you?" 

     Tommy pats my knee before lifting himself up off the couch with a grunt, "Only because you feel called out." 

     "Shut up," I grumble as he and Buck leave me be. 

     Throughout the rest of the shift, I maintain my pissed off demeanor and even do my best to avoid Eddie. I feel bad about both but I really don't need anyone trying to question me on where my head is at right now. Where is my head exactly? Stuck thinking about Eddie motherfucking Diaz. I've spent all day trying to convince myself that Tommy is wrong and I don't love him but I ultimately fail. As per usual, my big brother is right... I shuffle out of the bathroom and head to the locker room to pack up and go home.  

     I grumpily shove clothes into my duffle bag and mentally debate between tacos or sushi for dinner. I finally decide I'm too tired and fed up to stop for food on the way home and will just eat the leftovers from last night as I zip my bag and hoist it up onto my shoulder. I make a 180 turn to head for the door but am stopped in my tracks and jump a little when I see Eddie leaning in the doorway. I halfheartedly glare at him, "Scare the shit out of me why don't you?" 

     He laughs softly and drops his gaze, "Sorry." I swear I saw a hint of a blush on his but decide I’m delusional. I shuffle nervously on my feet and run my fingers through my hair. When he lifts his gaze again and makes direct eye contact with me, I scold myself because my heart involuntarily skips a beat. He clears his throat, "Can we talk?" 

     I fidget with the strap of my duffle for a second before dropping it to my feet and plopping down on the bench, shrugging, "I guess." 

     He cautiously shuffles over to sit beside me, "You guess?" The only response I can muster up is another shrug, eyes trained on the locker in front of me. He rests his elbows on his knees and interlocks his fingers, eyes locked on the tiles under our feet, "Listen, I've been a real dick lately." 

     I attempt to calm my racing heart with a few deep breaths so it doesn't betray me, "That's understatement of the year." 

     I can feel his puppy dog eyes burning into my cheek when he looks up from the floor, "I know... I'm sorry, I just-" 

     Before I can stop myself, I tear my eyes away from the locker to give him a confused look, "Just what?" 

     He takes a deep breath and returns to inspecting the tiles, "I just think it’s cute when you're annoyed... I didn't mean to actually piss you off." 

     I sigh deeply and feel a tinge of guilt in my chest, "What makes you think you pissed me off?"  

     He shrugs, gaze shifting to my shoes, "You've been snappier than normal ever since this morning. You also started avoiding me... I figured it took it too far..." 

     I wipe my palms on my jeans and shake my head, "That's not- You didn't piss me off. If anything, Tommy did." 

     I don't miss the protectiveness in his tone and posture when he whips his head to look at me finally, "What? Do I need to kick his ass?" 

     I giggle, unable to prevent myself from admiring how cute he is when he's protective, "No, no... He didn't really piss me off. He just- he got under my skin... He called me out on something and it rubbed me the wrong way." 

     The mixture of concern and confusion on his face is kind of adorable as he asks, "What do you mean?" 

     Feeling heat rise to my cheeks, I shift my gaze to anything that is not Eddie. I chew on the inside of my cheek for a few seconds before attempting a humorous tone and admitting, "He called me out on the fact that I'm in love with an immensely annoying pain in the ass." 

     In my peripheral, I notice disappointment grace his features before he quickly molds it into something else and looks away, "Oh..." 

     Slightly surprised, I find myself staring at the side of his face. Taking a huge risk on a hunch, I clarify, "It's you, dipshit. You're the immensely annoying pain in the ass." 

     His eyes snap to mine as he smiles a smile that makes my heart flutter, "Really?" 

     Nudging him with my elbow, I nod, "Yes, no matter how frustrated I get with your relentless teasing, at the end of the day I find myself falling head over heels for you." 

     His eyes dart to my lips for a split second before he whispers, "thank god," promptly taking my face in his hands and kissing me so hard it punches the breath out of my lungs. I immediately kiss back, feeling my heart swell with happiness. My hands find their way to his forearms where I rub small circles with my thumbs. When we finally break apart, he doesn't go far but let's one hand fall intertwining our fingers. With his other hand, he holds my chin, preventing me from retreating even if I wanted to.  

     He pecks another quick kiss against my lips before whispering, "Do you think you love me enough to put up with my immensely annoying pain in the ass self more often than just work? Often enough to be my girlfriend?" 

     With the hand I still have on his forearm, I squeeze gently and nod with a smile on my face, "Of course." I push in to kiss him again but am unfortunately interrupted by a commotion coming from the loft. He chuckles softly as we both look toward the noise. Through the glass wall we find Tommy and Buck standing upstairs with bright smiles, clapping and cheering. 

     Now that we've noticed them, Buck races down the stairs and enters the locker room chanting, "Double date, double date, double date." 

     Upon catching up to his excited boyfriend, Tommy rolls his eyes and drapes an arm around Buck's waist, "Slow down, Babe. Let them go on a date just the two of them first." 

     Buck playfully pouts and crosses his arms over his chest, "Fineeeee." 

     He quickly drops his pouty posture as Tommy shakes his head with a smile and offers his hand to Eddie, "She's your problem now." 

     Eddie shakes his hand with a chuckle before locking eyes with me again and grinning, "Happily." 

     He presses a kiss to my nose but I pull away pretending to be offended, "Hey! If anything, YOU are MY problem now. I'm not an annoying little shithead." 

     I lean back toward Eddie, who kisses my cheek, as Tommy states, "No, but you are crafted with heavy notes of, 'These hands are rated E for everyone,' and, 'Hey ma, watch this.' Not to mention the dash of, 'Chaos is my middle name.'" 

     Buck slowly turns to look at him with a massive grin, "Must run in the family." Tommy rolls his eyes and pulls Buck closer, kissing his temple. 

     Eddie presses his forehead against mine and holds out his pinky, "What'd you say we team up and become everyone's problem?" 

     Giggling, I wrap my pinky around his to seal the promise, "Deal." 

     Eddie doesn't pull away or drop my pinky, "I know where to buy window markers." 

     I grin mischievously but before I can say anything, Tommy lets out a very exasperated sigh, "You two do know we're still here, right?" As Eddie and I separate, Tommy gently tugs Buck toward the exit. They make it a few steps out of the doorway before Tommy pokes his head back in, "And don't you even dare think about taking a marker to my windows." 

     We watch them make their way toward the station door as Eddie muses, "That's exactly what we're gonna do, isn't it?" 

     I wiggle excitedly in my seat, "Yup." 

     When the door closes behind them, he looks back at me, checks his watch, and grins, "I think if we hurry, we can make it to the store before it closes." 

     I jump up, grab my bag from the floor, and with our still interlocked hands, drag Eddie in the same direction we watched them leave. He laughs behind me, barely managing to grab his own duffle on our way out. 

More 911

Main Masterlist

[keys-hellscape-1020]

You’re a healer, not a fighter. And yet…

Enjoy more stitch y’all sorry it took me so long. Also the title for this is SO bad I’m so sorry.

Platonic!141 x Medic!reader

Tw: Canon typical violence, cursing, gore, blood, Background character death, explosions, grenades, heavy smoke, reader is dissociating, implied that reader is having a panic attack, military inaccuracies, light angst, hurt/comfort.

~

You hate, nay despise, when you get separated during missions. If history holds true, and it always does, it won’t end well.

You are currently stuck in a small room, well stuck is a strong word as you do have 2 possible exits, it’s just that neither is very promising.

The slightly more promising of the two is a small rectangular window on the other side of the room, about 6 feet away. You’re not sure if you could get your torso through, and even if you did, if the 5 story drop didn’t kill you the enemy that was swarming the building certainly would.

The other exit was a hallway, leading back the way you fled from. You were crouched in a corner that bordered the door, gripping your gun tightly. There was no cover in the room, simply beige walls and that dammed window.

Suddenly a loud noise crackled from your comms, causing you to fumble to quickly turn it down a few notches. “Stitch! Stitch are you there? We almost have the case!”

You shuddered in a breath, carefully watching the door as you lifted one hand up to your radio to respond. “Sounds good Soap. I’m currently pinned on the 5th story, no visual on the enemy.”

“Stitch do you have any way to get out of there? We are pushing on 7th story.” That was Price, you could hear the sounds of a firefight in the background.

“I’ll find a way around.”

“Copy that, repo quickly.”

You carefully came out of your corner, crouching near the door you grabbed the doorknob, quickly flinging the door open.

The moment the door opened it was filled with bullets. You ducked behind the wall, grabbed a grenade from your gear pulled the pin and hoped.

When you heard a loud explosion paired with a choir of screams you leapt into the doorway, your gun posed in front of you.

You quickly took care of the few enemies you could see between the smoke and rubble. After a moment of no movement you moved forward to the rubble.

Crouching down you looked at the one solider who was still alive from your assault, half buried under rubble. He was a big fucker.

“Fuck off.” He growled at you as blood ran down his face.

You assessed him with a critical eye. His injuries would prevent him from moving very far. If you moved all weapons away from his reach he wouldn’t be a threat. That is assuming he lives.

You leaned over him to grab his sidearm from its holster on his side. As you leaned over he grabbed your arm with one hand and your shoulder with the other.

In any other circumstances he would’ve been able to break your arm, but he was injured and you were on high alert. You quickly tore his side arm from its holster and drove it into the side of his head, knocking his grip off of you.

Pointing his gun at his forehead you growled, “I am showing you mercy. Do not make me regret it.”

Breaking you out of your focused state was your radio, crackling to life loudly on your chest.

“STITCH! DON’T- THE EMEMY- TRAP”

The enemy used your shock to his advantage, grabbing your elbow and attempting to pry the gun from your grasp. You however were still faster despite your shock. You ram you head into his, causing him to let go of your elbow. You then pull your knife from its sheath and drive it home in the side of his neck.

With his blood staining your hands you turned to respond to your radio, ignoring the enemy’s gurgling in the background.

“What about the enemy? Do you have the case?” You asked, concern growing in your chest.

“STITCH” That at least you could tell was Price.

“Captain? Captain what’s going on?” You asked frantically, you had to fight the urge to run to them. If things were going wrong getting yourself hurt would not help anyone.

Suddenly your radio was full of very loud static. You fiddled with the channel, hoping it was just a technical error, but the longer you tried to get a connection the more you lost hope that it was simply a technical error.

You feel the blood drain from your face as the reality of the situation hit you. Your boys were captured. You quickly switch your mic off. Damnit.

Alright think. Your boys still have to be in the building, there’s no way they got them out already. You know they were heading to the 7th floor. The enemy will most likely be taking them up to the roof to lift them out. You just had to intercept them in time.

That is assuming they’re not dead.

But there is no time to think like that. They can’t be dead. If they’re dead you’re going to drag their sorry asses back to the living world and kill them again.

You quickly look around in the rubble, there has to be something here you can use. The corpse of an enemy solider catches your eye. They’re about the same build as you and while their uniform is splattered in blood it would do the job well enough.

You quickly pull on their jacket and vest along with their helmet. You could only hope that would be enough, you had to move.

————

You found the stairwell on the 5th floor, once you executed your plan you would have to move quickly or face loosing your boys forever.

You quickly started climbing the stories, you keep marching forward undisturbed until you got to the 8th story, when you were met with two guards.

“Who the fuck are you?” One of the guards shouted at you, pointing his gun at your head.

You quickly raised you hands in the air, it was vital they thought you one of them. “We- were attacked. 5th floor. Everyone is dead.” You croaked, forcing tears into your eyes and tightening your throat.

The two guards looked at each other, back at you, then lowered their guns a few inches.

“Where on the 5th floor was this and when?” One guard questioned, narrowing their eyes at you.

Fuck. You thought it was on the western side but you couldn’t be sure. No more that 10 minutes could’ve passed since it happened, but how could you be certain?

You couldn’t be, you just had to take a guess and hope you were right. “Western side.” You shuddered, hoping you weren’t overdoing your acting. “It- it just happened. No more then 10 minutes ago.”

“We just lost contact with a group on the eastern side. You know anything about that?” The guard shot you a suspicious glance. The other one fiddled with their trigger, glaring at you.

Fuck it.

You grabbed the one who was fiddling with their trigger and pulled them in front of you, using them as a human shield against their friend who sprayed a wave of bullets at you on instinct.

You pushed one guard into the other, and while they were reeling from the shock of having their friends mutilated corpse pushed into them you grabbed your knife and rammed it into the side of their head, aiming at the lisp of their helmet and angling upwards. So much for the plan.

There were footsteps coming down the stairwell, you had to act fast. Quickly you stash your knife in its sheath before pulling out your gun and firing it at the entry to the 8th floor, shouting expletives.

A team of 6 rounds the corner on high alert, they’re looking where you’re shooting and not at you, good.

“They went that way!” You shout, gesturing towards the door with a nod of your head.

“Move!” The leader barked, rushing towards the door. You pressed yourself to the wall, watching as they filed into the empty floor.

Once the coast is clear and the last of the enemies are through the door you turn around to creep carefully yet quickly up the rest of the stairs.

You manage to move up the next two flights of stairs without difficulty. You make your way to the floor right below the roof and listen carefully, your ear perched right up against the door.

You are met with the sounds of very angry, very Scottish yelling. You let out a shallow sigh of relief. Just as you suspected your boys are still in the building, now the hard part. Getting them out of it in one piece.

You wait at the door a moment longer listening for any clues, you fail to hear any coming from beyond the door, but you do hear one from above.

Carefully, and ever so slowly, cracking the door to the roof open, you are met with exactly what you expected. A helicopter is slowly descending to the platform on the roof, surrounding said platform is at least 5-8 enemy soldiers.

While not great you can work with these conditions, and that’s what you plan to do.

Not that you have much of a choice.

————

You quickly run to the floor they’re holding your boys and in a moment of fuck-it-I-have-nothing-to-loose (you’re lying to yourself you have everything to loose), you charge in, slamming the door to the wall.

You immediately stand at attention, and direct your eyesight to the man you hope you are correctly assuming is in charge.

When no bullets start firing at you you realize they are waiting for you to speak.

“Sir!” You bark out. “The heli is waiting on the roof sir!”

An old, short man turns to focus his eyes on you. You feel the cold sweat gathering on your neck as he fails to say anything, you swear that in the moment you could feel him cracking open your chest and feasting inside. Discovering all your secrets, uncovering all your sins.

Then he speaks, “bout damn time! Have the rest of your team come down. Escort these damn prisoners the fuck out of here!”

You turn to report to the rest of your fake team when a sense of dread hits you like a cold water ballon.

The messenger they would be sending. To alert the old fucker about the heli landing. That you already told him about.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!!” You hiss out quietly to yourself, two seconds away from stomping your foot and pouting like a child.

Your panic is cut short however when the door to the roof opens. You quickly snap to attention as the solider heads towards you, fixing you with a scalding glare.

“What are you doing?” They question. You feel like they are a priest, pulling all your sins out of you one by one.

“I’ve been assigned to guard here, on account of the enemy solider running amok.” You say stoically, puffing out your chest in a crude imitation of a loyal solider, proud to be guarding their commander.

The other solider briefly stares at you, before gesturing for you to get out of the way. Fuck there’s nothing you can do. Any attempt at taking them out would surly be heard. Fuck it- there’s nothing you can do.

You step aside.

————

It feels like a lifetime as you wait for a sound, a whimper, a pen dropping, an indication of what your next move should be. It feels like a lifetime as suddenly the door you’re standing next to bursts open.

You are guided by instinct as you fire a bullet into the head of the solider who had opened the door. You duck low, pull the pin on a grenade, and throw it into the room.

You are shaken by the proximity of the explosion, and your ears are ringing fiercely. You push forwards anyway, and once you are well hidden by the smoke in the room you duck behind the remains of a pillar. You hear movement and you quickly peek out form behind it, firing wildly. It is only another moment before the smoke begins to clear enough that you can see.

You glance around cautiously, and see that every solider in this room is dead, remarkably there are fewer corpses then you expected. The only option for where your boys could be is behind a door on the other end of the room.

You can hear yelling coming from it.

You can hear footsteps from behind you.

You slam the door behind you shut, amazed it’s still on it’s hinges. You grab a chair and shove it beneath the handle. You hope that buys you enough time to get your boys out because otherwise you’re doomed.

You approach the door, your gun posed in front of you, and kick.

The door holds.

You kick again.

The doorframe splinters under the force with a shrieking groan and the door swings open.

You are met with the man who you had addressed before, holding a pistol to Price’s head. All of your boys are in the room, looking like they had been thrown in haphazardly, their arms tied behind their back and their legs held together by zip-ties.

You creep one foot into the room before the old fucker shouts out, “Stop! One more step and I blow his brains out!” As he speaks he kicks Price, not hard enough to send him to the ground, but he still lets out a small grunt of pain.

“Hands off him ye’ wanker!!” Soap shouts out from one side of the small room. He pulls against his bonds with a groan, but does not accomplish anything.

Suddenly a loud shout and a bang is heard from the farthest door. You are forced to turn around, your gun held high, as you hear the enemy continue to struggle to get in.

“You’ll be dead soon. Surrender and maybe I’ll go easy on-” suddenly his speech dissolves into a blubbering mess of groans and hiccups, all began by the distinct sound of metal sinking into flesh.

You whirl around, panicked, only to see your Captain standing over the fluttering body of the enemy commander, holding a small pocket knife.

He glances at you over his shoulder before speaking, “Hold the door, I’ll get them out.”

You do as he says, moving to crouch behind a pillar, gaze trained on the door.

“Sir,” you call out over your shoulder, “enemy heli on the roof.”

Price makes a noise of acknowledgment and quickly crouches down next to you behind the pillar, an enemy gun in his hands. You barely notice Ghost, Soap, and Gaz moving to shelter on the other side of the room before the door bursts open with a sense of finality.

————

It’s nothing short a blood bath, a mess of bullets and gunpowder framing the centerpiece of organs and body parts. Bone fragments, and limbs, and cries of pain and pleas to merciless gods. It feels like both a century and a moment before soldiers stop flooding into the room.

Price motions for you to move forward, and gestures towards your belt silently. A smoke grenade. You nod in understanding and pose right behind a door, a smoke grenade in your hand. You glance over your shoulder briefly, checking that all your boys are in place.

With a confirmation that they’re ready you pull the pin on the grenade, shut your eyes tightly, and throw it. Once you hear the smoke dispense you desperately push forward.

It feels like a fever dream, moving through smoke and cries of pain. You feel like you’re watching a movie, a compilation of photos as you feel yourself pull the trigger again and again and again. Body responding before you can even think to. You feel every movement so intensely, and yet not at all. Like a puppet you react to your instincts, watching your boy’s backs. Making sure they stay safe. By the time the smoke clears and you’re ready to move to the roof you swear you can feel yourself swimming in blood. You can feel it creeping up your shoes, your shins and your knees, you hips, up and up until it’s entering your throat and your nose- suffocating you- you can’t breathe-

“Stitch?” You’re forced back into your body by a firm hand on your shoulder. Turning your head you see Gaz standing next to you, somehow managing to pull a small, kind smile onto his face. “We’re almost out.” He soothes kindly.

You swallow the blood in your throat before nodding firmly. “Right. We’re almost out.”

————

It was surprisingly easy to take control of the helicopter, but you suppose you should have expected that. Once they’d heard the shooting and explosions beneath their feet they would have almost certainly abandoned their post in favor of helping their allies. It doesn’t truly matter to you though, their lives ended all the same.

After busting through the door, that they hadn’t even bothered to lock in their rush, it was simply a matter of taking out 3 soldiers and the pilot. A laughably easy task considering what you had just accomplished.

You leaned back in your seat on the helicopter heavily, resting your head back against the side of the beast. You feel your weariness in every bone in your body. You don’t think you’ve ever dealt so much death in such a short period of time. While you were no stranger to the feeling of taking a life, you took less than the average solider. You focused on mending, not breaking, whenever possible.

You supposed that today mending life was not in cards as much as tearing it apart. You wonder if you have what it takes to be a solider, if you break at the first sign of difficulty.

You’re broken out of your thoughts by a firm hand on your knee. You open your eyes and sit up to be met with the sight of Soap’s big blue eyes staring at you in concern.

It’s takes you a moment before you notice that he’s handing you something, his field journal. You take it with a confused glance, but he mearly gestures for you to look inside.

You look at the page he was holding open, it contains many small doodles, that despite their small size are still remarkably well done. You see doodles of Ghost and Gaz, who are sitting across from you. He’s sketched how they currently look, Gaz with his head resting on his fist as he stares at the clouds racing by. Ghost as he leans back, his arms and legs crossed.

What really draws your attention though is a question, messily scrawled beneath the doodles. Next to it is a stylized, cartoonish drawing of you, surrounded by several hearts.

The question reads, “You alright hun?”

You look up at Johnny and he blinks at you a few times before suddenly startling, like he had forgotten something, and sheepishly handing you a pencil.

You scrawl down right below Johnny’s handwriting, “I’ll live. You?” You hand his journal back to him, and watch as he scrawls down his response.

“Bit shaken, thought I was done in for a second there. At least until you stepped in <3” Next to the heart he’s drawn a goofy kissy face, equipped with his signature Mohawk and all.

Johnny and your’s silent conversation is cut short by Price shouting over the sound of the heli from up by the cockpit, “We’re landing in 2 minutes!”

“Roger that Cap!” You yell back, handing Johnny his journal back with a ruffle of his Mohawk. He gawks at you in playful insult while you go about making sure you (and your boys) are prepped for landing.

————

Once you’ve got both your feet back inside base exhaustion hits you like a tsunami wave. Now that you’re certain you’re safe the adrenaline is fading like water out of a balloon. Despite the fatigue festering in every part of your person, you’re not in bed. Instead you’re in the armory, cleaning your gear.

You want nothing more than to sleep, but it’s routine for you to make sure all of your duties are accomplished first so you can sleep well. You’re silently taking apart a pistol when you hear footsteps approaching the armory, knocking you out of your thoughts.

It’s only a moment before Price walks through the doors, surprisingly enough he’s not carrying any of his own weapons.

As soon as he sees where you’re sat on one of the benches he B-Lines to you, approaching with a speed and purpose that you’ve only seen him use on missions. The adrenaline from the mission must still be in his system, you muse. He’s been in this industry long enough for it to make sense.

“Go the fuck to sleep sergeant. The actual hell are you still doing awake?” He barks as he approaches you.

“Will soon sir.” You respond nonchalantly. “Just cleaning my gear first.”

He guffaws like it’s the most foolish thing he’s heard all day, (which says a lot considering he has gotten captured today) and gestures for you to scoot over.

You do so, slightly confused by what he intends to do. Once you’ve made room on the bench he sits down next to you and grabs your vest. As he lays it on his lap he goes through the pockets systematically, making sure the vest is perfectly up to code.

As you observe him you’re slightly surprised by his actions, you imagine he must be wanting to go to sleep after the day he’s had.

“You don’t have to help me sir.” You say carefully, tip-toeing around his grumpy outward appearance.

“A good leader always makes sure his soldiers are taken care of before himself. Now finish cleaning that pistol so we can get the fuck to bed.”

————

With Price helping you it didn’t take long for you to finish and finally head to bed. You could feel your feet sticking to the ground with every step, and it took you twice as long as it normally did to walk to your barracks from the armory.

As you approach your door you notice a slumped figure next to it, causing adrenaline from the day to start kicking back up inside you. Feeling your heart start to hammer, yet not having the energy to do anything about it, you continue to approach leisurely.

As you get closer you recognize the balaclava and all black clothing that clings to a large frame. Ghost. When you finally stand next to him you nudge his hip with your foot.

“Come on big guy.”

He blinks up at you wearily, but starts to stand all the same as you unlock your door. You walk in and throw your boots and jacket off as you approach your bed, little care for where they end up.

You flop down on your bed, the scratchy blankets and thin military mattress feeling like paradise after all you’d been through. When you see ghost’s shadow approaching out of the corner of your eye you roll over, facing the wall.

You feel Ghost lie down on your mattress and sling a heavy arm over your waist as you both settle down into a deep sleep.

It had been a hard day, but you would do it all over again for your boys.

[pokequirks]

bakugo katsuki x male!reader

note: just a thought.

"the fuck are you doing here?" katsuki growls, seeing the masculine figure with head inside the fridge.

"i live here," he responds, taking the cold dinner and a beer, "ya should buy more meat."

katsuki's eyes follow the trace of stains that the clothes of the man has. he sits on the couch and turns on the tv.

"that shit is blood, isn't it?"

"oh, fuck, fuck, sorry kats, i'll clean it later," the man says, taking his cargo pants off and leaving them on the floor.

katsuki sits on the other couch, remaning quiet and watching the tired man in front of him. messy and long black hair, eyes bags under his tired eyes, small smile forming as he watches the program, scratched neck, blood stained legs on a lotus position.

"could you stop looking at me like that?" he whispers, leaving the can on the coffee table and laying on the couch "i'm close."

the man closes his eyes and turns. suddenly, the man coughs.

"fuck…" the man stands and rinses the blood off his hand. katsuki exhales, standing and walking towards the room.

"if you wanna sleep with me then take a shower, ya nasty as fuck."

katsuki entered the bedroom. 2:50am displaying on the digital clock that remained on his side table. he layed on the left side, on his arm. he tried to go to sleep while hearing the other man silently entering the bathroom and water crashing with his body.

he pretends to be asleeps as the man barely dresses with clean underwear and takes refuge with him under the sheets. the man holds katsuki's waist tight and presses softs kisses against his back.

"i'm sorry, kats, i'm really, really close," he murmurs, "you don't deserve this."

katsuki stays still as he feels his shirt wet. the man coming undone as he falls asleep.

it's 6am and he's not there. katsuki goes on with his usual rutine. eat breakfast, clean the mess and get ready for hero duty. he walks to the agency, where the case that he and his sidekick have been working on waits for him.

"good morning, boss. we have new info about the case," katsuki sits and the sidekick continues, "we think the organization is falling into pieces. ghoul has been seen movilizating to another province. informants say other suspects have traveled too."

"he's probably forming an army of his own."

katsuki nodds and lets them retire. he looks at his phone, no calls, no messages. how much more time he'll need, he wonders. katsuki sighs and goes out on patrol.

couple of days pass on without a single word from the man. he's neither gone home since that day. katsuki cooks for him, three cold dinners already in the fridge, waiting for the man to eat them. he stays awake, waiting for him to arrive all hurt, but he doesn't.

as kasuki makes another dinner his phone rings. unknown number.

"hi, kats," soft voice coming from the other side of the line, "how ya been?"

"we decided to make an incursion tomorrow morning," he says.

"don't talk to me about work, baby, tell me something else."

"don't call me baby, mother fucker," katsuki growls and the man laughs softly. he knows he's tired "i bought wagyu meat, ya shall came and eat that."

"that sounds delicious," he whispers, "i love you, kats."

"don't say that shit that way, ya sound like saying goodbye to me," katsuki sighs, "finish that shit and come home, i don't care if you die, you have to come back or i'll kill you."

the man burst into laughter. it's sweet hearing him like that.

"tell me ya love me."

"i'll tell you when you home."

"i have to go, kats," the man warns after someone calls hims, "i love you."

"love ya too."

"you told me you love me, ha!"

"cut that shit off! stupi..." he hung up.

katsuki sighs and continues cooking. that would be the fourth meal.

"we're going to start the operation, in one," the heroes took position, katsuki and the sidekicks beside him, "two..."

katsuki takes a deep breath, he feels all his body now ready.

"three!"

the crowd moved towards the entrance of the abandoned building. quick paces as they started covering the area and weird looks started to appear between the teams.

bakugo reached the last floor. there was no one there. not even a stain of blood.

"sir, team leaders said they have found nothing. this site is clear."

katsuki returns home in the evening. the night is almost setting. he opens the door, there's no shoes in the front door, no blood stains on the floor, but the tv is on.

he runs, the window is covered in a trace of blood. the fridge is barely open and he's there, laying on the couch, a hole in his stomach.

"shit, who did this to you?" katsuki asked, sitting on the floor next to the man.

"hi, pretty boy, how are you?" a small smile painting his croaked lips and one eye still closed.

"why the fuck are you in that state? you are barely alive," katsuki remarks, now noticing the missing eye.

"if i would die, i prefer that you kill me," he says. katsuki looks at him, frowns and a feeling of impotence covers all his body. suddenly the man holds his hand, "i did it, kats, i'm out of that shit."

katsuki remains silent, just looking at the man. the jacket he liked so much now was covered all in dry blood, his shirt with a hole that almost covered it, new skin just starting to generate.

"i look bad, don't i?" katsuki nodded and the man barely laughed, "i'll be the sexy man you fell for in a while, i have been eating well."

the man pointed at the coffee table, the containers with all of his dinners were there, a spoon on the side with food stamps. the black mask is also covered in blood. katsuki stayed on his side for a while. soft breathing as the man rests.

without a word, katsuki helped him reach the bathroom. he helped him take a seat in the bathroom stool and started undressing him.

"i didn't know you had these kinks with a barely alive man, kats," the man laughed, a sudden pinch on the place where his stomach would go.

"shut the fuck up, asshole," katsuki opened the warm water key, the bathtub filling slowly.

in silence, katsuki cleaned the man's body with a towel. light red water falling as the man stayed quiet under katsuki's touch. he was gentle with him. taking care of not touching the hole. then covered up the injury.

"look, my eye is coming back," the man smiles, katsuki does too.

they ended up in bed. both wearing the matching pajama set that the man had bought some time ago.

"please, come with me," the man pleaded. katsuki couldn't say no, slowly he accommodated himself next to the man who embraced him.

"how did you end up like this?" katsuki asks.

"i... i turned into a monster, kats. had to eat them all," the man said, purely referring to those who fell in battle, sad tone and expression on his face "while i was full of energy the regeneration worked at its peak point, i used all battling him, i pierced his heart and separate his head from his body so he left me with this hole... i'm finally free, kats."

katsuki stayed quiet, barely being able to recreate the image in his head. he caressed the injured man's skin while the man played with his toes.

"what's the plan now? after you heal."

"i should look for a job, cannot let my beautiful wife work her ass off," the man grabbed katsuki's ass with a cocky smile on his face.

"i'm not your wife," katsuki whispers, controlling himself in order to avoid hitting him.

"ya not? i have bred ya a thousand times and ya already have the tits," the man puts katsuki above his pelvis, just below the injury, he squeezes katsuki's chest with both hands.

"don't, you hurt," the blonde says as the other rubs his skin below the clothes.

"like it hard, don't ya?" cocky smile on the lips. the missing eye is almost full again, "hug me and tell me ya love me."

katsuki accommodates himself next to the man, one arm over his chest, reaching the face. he stays there, comfortable, just in silence. wonders how much time this bliss could continue.

"i love ya, dumbass."

"i love you more, baby boy."

days pass by. the man soon got a job due to this excellent resume. katsuki still does hero duty, patrol in the morning, paperwork after lunch, and by dinner he's already home. a happy smile and welcoming hug there, waiting for him.

"ya have been making dinner lately," katsuki remarks.

the man nods, "the least i can do."

both man eat dinner together, seated at the dinner table while sharing a chat. the man speaks the most, talking about his engineering work and the co-workers. katsuki listens and sometimes asks something, he avoids talking about his hero duty, so the man being a chatty one is perfect for him.

"we should go see your mom and dad, don't think it is right to delay that when i'm already free, tomorrow's your day off, right?" katsuki nods, eyes fixed on his food, "could we go tomorrow? i'll pay for dinner."

katsuki nods again.

after sharing an intimate moment in the bathtub and then in the bed, katsuki's left with his own thoughts as the man sleeps beside him. he knows this has to come to an end.

"the old hag said my father isn't feeling good, we'll have to reschedule our dinner, i'm sorry."

"oh, it's okay, i hope your dad gets better," the man says and starts taking off his blazer.

"we could go to that park you like and eat something there," katsuki says, the man's eyes now filled with joy as he nods quickly.

he changes for the new jacket that katsuki gave him after the last one was completely unusable.

"thanks to the gift of ma wife, i look damn hot, don't i?"

"yeah, you do."

the man smiles and takes katsuki's hand, heading to the apartment door and chatting about nothing while leaving the building.

soon enough they arrived at that park that the former villain liked that much. they ate some street food before having ice cream and walked to a more private place.

"here, we meet here for the first time," the man said, a nostalgic feeling covering his chest, "you told me to die when i asked you for your number."

"yeah, i did. fucking weirdo that asked me out when i first meet him," katsuki growls, one hand inside his pocket.

"but ya fell so bad for your sexy, awesome husband, don't ya?" cocky smile on his lips as he tightens the grab on katsuki's.

time to finish this off.

"give me your hands," katsuki ordered, the man showed them to him, the blonde took the handcuffs out of his pocket and said, "you're under arrest."

"oh, kats, yer getting kinkier over time," the man said, laughing a bit and getting close to the red eyed man, "let's go home so ya could have me real nice."

the man got under alert when people in costumes started appearing. heroes. the man looked down, handcuffed hands, looked up, cold red eyes. a detective showing him his plaque and talking to him.

"kats, what's this? these yer friends?" the man stuttering.

"you're under arrest, ghoul."

"kats, take this thing off me, please," the man said, policeman taking him by the shoulders, "kats, please, please, don't go on with this joke, please."

the man was sweating cold, heavy breathing as the people surrounded him. he was getting anxious. pleading eyes looking at katsuki, who remained there, standing still.

"katsuki, please," the blonde negated his head, a heart breaking and suddenly all felt in silence. he looked down, a policeman holding the security wrap, "could you please not? i... i go with you."

police man looked at the man, then the number one hero.

"i'm sorry, it's protocol."

after that the black haired man was taken to the prison.

after months katsuki was able to visit the man in prison. the only purpose was to convince him to talk more and give the detective more information about the villain organization.

he was seated in the middle of the room, no more security around him than the guns on the roof ready to shoot if he activated his quirks. lost eyes, slow breathing. the hair was longer, he had gotten back the eye bags and he looked way too skinny.

"how are you?" katsuki asked, the man remained quiet, not even looking at him, "don't wanna talk to me?"

katsuki huffed, waiting for him to answer something. his patience grew smaller with each second that passed by. foot hitting the floor while looking at the man. he couldn't stand it.

"i'm out this shit," the blonde standed and walked towards the door and before he could get out the man speaked.

"why... why did you do that?" slow words, tired heart, "i understand you position being a hero, but i still think you could have gave me some sign..."

both remained in silence.

"did you felt the same way as i did? was all a farce? the nights we spent together, when you told me you loved me? was all that part of the mission?"

katsuki couldn't answer.

"for a long time i had nothing, just one thing to protect and then i met you and thought i may be able to have a life, someone to get back at home," the man looked up, tears running down his eyes, "you should go, katsuki."

"have you been eating?" the blonde asked, still without looking back at the man.

"sure... i'm sorry i can't be helpful to you. i'm not snitching on my friends," a large sigh came out to him, "this will end soon."

"what do you mean?"

"you saw me, i was at my best when you first met me and before being here," katsuki frowned when hearing the man's words, "cow meat is great for keeping me alive if i have it in big amounts, if i don't eat human flesh right now i'll die."

"so you'll just die? tell them what they need to know, they will lower your sentence and i could bring you all the wagyu you would need."

"it doesn't work like that, kats. this power was given to me and it will kill me. you shouldn't worry about my former co-workers, they're on the right track, i took care of that."

katsuki left. no words, no goodbye.

"kacchan, i'm sorry i-"

"shut the fuck up, deku."

the service was held at a small venue, surprisingly for the few policemen, the detective and a few heroes the venue was full. people would give their respects to katsuki.

"sir always said you were a pretty blonde, sure we didn't expect you to be a man nor a hero," one man said, chatting after the corpse was cremated.

izuku standed next to katsuki, trying to support him.

how did you know him? if i may ask," the detective intervened.

"he helped me and my sons get a job, he was a great engineer."

"yeah, he was," katsuki whispered and retired.

"hi, kats. i'm sorry you have to see me like this, lately i have been a jerk with you, i'm sorry about that. i know i'm dying soon, i feel weaker each day and... don't know just i thought i should tell you that i love you and you shouldn't feel bad about this, you did what you had to do, only brave men do. you never deserved this, to get involved with me and my stuff, i hope you can forgive me and i will always love you."

katsuki closed the laptop screen and huffed.

"stupid son of a bitch."

in the front building were too black silhouettes, one holding some binoculars watching inside the apartment.

"sir, we should go now, you're still weak."

"yeah, just let me have this a little more, this is the last time i see my wi-... i see him."

[redlightsrachaaa]

make you feel my love

•my men are insane and i need them so bad so i word vomited this atrocity out. seeing the red lights mv changed me fundamentally. this is entirely self indulgent and i need to be sh0t probably

•minors DNI ‼️ 👹

•warnings: nsfw, 3some, porn w no plot basically, unprotected piv (wrap it before you tap it yall), creampie, double pen, dom!chan if you squint

[this is my first ever skz piece and first time ever writing smut KMS pls be nice to me <3]

___________________________________

“-so stay the hell away from her, understood?”

As you step foot into the practice room you see Chan up in Hyunjin’s face, index finger jabbing into his chest. The other members were watching warily from a corner. When they saw you arrive, they bowed politely then hustled the hell out to distance themselves from Chan’s anger.

You quickly interject, stepping between your boyfriend and his fellow band member. “Woah, woah guys! What the hell is going on here?”

Chan turns around and sees you, his expression softening slightly. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. “Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. That fucker just pushed my buttons and I lost my cool.” He points a thumb towards Hyunjin whose comments had started the argument. “Just some internal conflicts among us guys. Nothing you need to worry about.”

“You’re a terrible liar Chan. You look half a second away from ripping his head off. Tell me, what was he saying? Was it about me? About us?”

Chan shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, attempting to play off the earlier tension. “I overheard him talking to some of the guys about you. Idiot has a crush on you. Even though he knows you’re with me.”

You glance over at Hyunjin, but his eyes are glued to the practice room linoleum.

“Hyunjin? Is that true?” you ask tentatively.

Chan sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, it's true, he answers for his teammate. “But let's not bother ourselves with this nonsense. I have more important things to focus on. We should get home.” He offers you a firm smile, trying to shift the conversation away from the drama and onto something more productive.

“Channie…” you begin slowly. You falter, stepping towards Hyunjin. You had discussed various ways of spicing up your sex life, not that either of you had any complaints, and you confided in Chan before that you had always found Hyunjin to be beautiful. You’d said if you ever were to request a third you’d chose him. Chan hadn’t disagreed either, but seeing as you were both content the topic was dropped. Forgotten.

Seeing you step closer to Hyunjin, Chan immediately feels a surge of jealousy, even though he knows there is no reason for it.

You glance between the two of them nervously , but Hyunjin cuts in. “Chan, before you kill me, I’ve always had a small crush on….. you too.” He looks down at the floor again, cheeks and ears blazing.

Chan's ears redden at Hyunjin's admission, his heart pounding in his chest. He tries to brush off the embarrassment, focusing instead on the situation at hand.

You were just as taken aback as Chan was; you’d had no idea Hyunjin was bisexual. You’d never wanted to assume anything.

“Well,” you say, “that’s something you two have in common, that I presume neither of you knew of one another’s…?”

Chan sighs heavily. “No, we’re both out to everyone in the group, and I am to you, obviously, but I never knew he felt that way about… me.”

“So,” you begin gingerly. “What do you think of Hyunnie?”

Silence. Chan’s ears continue to grow redder.

“He is beautiful, isn’t he, Chan?”

Chan takes a moment to compose himself, pushing aside the sudden rush of emotions. He finally meets your gaze squarely, nodding in agreement. “Yes, he is-”

“Would you kiss him?”

Chan's eyes widen in surprise at your bold question, and Hyunjin’s head snaps up, both caught off guard by its suddenness. He opens his mouth to respond but closes it again, unsure of how to answer.

“It seems he wants to kiss you…” You glance at Hyunjin and see his cheeks are on fire, but he isn’t making any attempt to deny the claim.

You step towards Chan, talking in a stage whisper for Hyunjin to hear. “Come on, Channie. give him a kiss. For me? I hate to see two close friends fighting…”

Chan swallows hard, feeling a rush of heat spreading across his face. The mere thought of doing something like that makes his heart race. He turns to look at Hyunjin once more, studying his flustered expression for a moment longer before turning back to you. “Fine… but remember, this is only because of you. If anyone finds out about this… there will be consequences. Understood?”

Even as he warns you, there's a certain excitement in his voice - a spark of rebelliousness that he usually keeps under wraps. “Fuck… here goes nothing.” With that said, Chan steps forward and leans in close to Hyunjin, brushing his lips against his in a swift yet intense kiss. “Happy now?”

“Hmm,” you say in mock thought. “Now it’s my turn. Wanna share me Channie? I’ve always wanted to try two at once…”

Chan blinks in shock at your sudden proposition, his pulse racing as the reality of your words sink in. He glances over at Hyunjin, who is clearly surprised but seems curious rather than upset. “I… I wasn't expecting that. I don’t know. Is something you really want?”

You nod eagerly, smiling at the both of them. Hyunjin’s voice is a mix of nervousness and excitement as he speaks up. “Let's go somewhere more private first. Can't exactly do this here in the practice room. Too many people could walk in on us unexpectedly. We wouldn't want any unwanted spectators, right?”

We can go back to your apartment yeah?” You ask Chan.

“Uh, yeah, sure, sounds good,” he stutters. “Let's go then.”

He follows behind you both as you leave the JYP building, heading towards his car. His mind races with various scenarios of what could happen once you reach your destination. This is going to be quite the night.

Once you arrive on his doorstep, Chan takes a deep breath, steeling himself as he leads the way into his apartment. This is it.

“Are you sure about this? For anything that might happen? I’ve never done anything like this.”

You and Hyunjin nod, both confirming you’ve never done anything of the sort either. “I’m sure,” you say. “I trust you. Both of you.”

Chan pushes open the door to his dorm room and gestures for both of you to enter. A shy grin spreads across his face as he watches you step into his private space. This was his work apartment, so you’d never seen it before. Whenever he came to see you, you both always opted for your apartment, with its cozy setting and larger square footage.

“The apartment isn’t big by any means,” he begins but you reassure him it didn’t matter. If the bed wouldn’t work, then the kitchen counter or dining table would. Wherever the night led you three really.

Chan nods in agreement, appreciating your adaptability and readiness for whatever happens next. “Right, anywhere works. As long as we're comfortable and able to enjoy ourselves, that's all that matters.” His gaze shifts between you and Hyunjin, noting the uncertainty and excitement reflected in both of your guys’ eyes. With a determined flicker in his own eyes, Chan strides towards the couch, plops down, and indicates that he's ready to proceed with whatever plan unfolds. Hyunjin turns to you. “Lead the way.”

You walk over to Chan, straddle his lap on the couch, and place a gentle kiss on his lips. When you withdraw from his mouth, you turn around and beckon Hyunjin over. He sits obediently beside Chan, and you place a kiss of the same degree onto his plush lips. Chan watches hungrily as you make out with Hyunjin from his lap, pupils blown out, chest heaving. Chan's jaw clenches involuntarily as he watches you engage with Hyunjin, but he forces himself to relax and enjoy the sight.

“Don’t be jealous, Channie,” you whisper once you finish your kiss with Hyunjin. “You both get me tonight.” You smirk when he wiggles his hips under you, no doubt seeking friction. You’d noticed the hard press against your inner thigh as you’d made out with him.

“So what's it going to be?” Chan asks hungrily. “Are we warming up with some foreplay or diving straight into the main event? Your call.” As he speaks, his gaze remains fixed on you, filled with eagerness and excitement for whatever will unfold next.

You smile sweetly and him and Hyunjin. “Foreplay is always a good start wouldn’t you say?”

They both nod as if in a trance. You have them hooked. You look down to Chan, still squirming underneath you. “How do you want me, hmm?”

Chan leans back against the cushions of the couch, resting his hands behind his head as he contemplates your question. “How I want you… well. Why choose just one position when we can explore multiple? How about you start with Hyunjin? See what he’s made of. I'll join in later and we can switch positions whenever we feel like it. How does that sound? Exciting enough for you?”

His voice holds a teasing edge as he imagines the erotic scenarios that await the three of you. There's a palpable tension building in the room, filling it with an electrifying atmosphere.

You nod then turn to Hyunjin and begin slowly stripping his shirt, his lithe torso exposed to the two of you. “You’re so pretty, Hyunnie,” you muse. “Will look even prettier with that mouth on me hmm? Gonna taste me while Channie watches, yeah?”

Chan watches intently as you begin to strip Hyunjin’s pants and underwear, taking in every detail of his exposed skin. Hyunjin blushes, eyes squeezed shut as you reach down to palm him. He’s already fully hard. The sight stirs a possessive desire within Chan, but he restrains himself for now, knowing that patience is key.

With a playful glint in his eye, Chan rises from the couch and starts to remove his own clothing piece by piece, exposing his muscular frame and revealing his growing arousal.

“While you continue teasing Hyunjin, why don't you prepare yourself too? Get ready for what's coming next. Trust me; it's going to be worth it.” His voice carries a seductive undertone as he suggests the next phase of their shared experience.

You release Hyunjin from your hand and lay down on the couch where Chan was previously sat and Hyunjin immediately kneels before you. He makes quick work of it, fingers and tongue working in tandem. Chan watches greedily, slowly tugging himself as he stares.

Chan groans softly as he watches Hyunjin expertly tend to you, his gaze burning with lustful desire. Seeing Hyunjin worship your body like this brings forth a wave of desire within him. Meanwhile, he continues to stroke himself, matching the rhythm of Hyunjin's movements.

“Keep going, Hyunjin… she likes it rough. Don't hold back now.” His voice carries a commanding tone, subtly encouraging Hyunjin to push further into exploring your limits.

Before long, you feel the familiar tightening in your lower abdomen. “Hyunnie….. ‘m close. Don’t stop. Please keep going-”

Hyunjin nods emphatically in response to your pleas, the movement sending shockwaves through you. Chan grits his teeth as he witnesses your impending climax, his own release drawing near.

“Good… keep going like that… don't you dare stop…” He encourages Hyunjin, a dark growl escaping his throat as he struggles to hold back his own orgasm.

You manage to lift your head up off the couch cushion to face your boyfriend. “Don’t finish yet, Channie,” you gasp. “Still need you for later.”

Chan lets out a strangled moan at your words, his grip tightening around himself as he fights against the overwhelming urge to release.

“Fine… holding back for now. But just so you know. Once I get my turn, you're going to feel every inch of me. You’ll remember not to edge me again.” His voice drips with raw lust and restrained power, reflecting the storm of emotion raging within him.

Before you can bite out ‘is that a threat or a promise?’ you’re coming undone on Hyunjin’s mouth and fingers. He withdraws from between your thighs, mouth and chin dripping. You lean in to kiss him and taste yourself on his lips. While he kisses you back, you open your eyes and glance at Chan, an evil twinkle in them.

Chan's eyes meet yours as you exchange heated kisses with Hyunjin, witnessing the intimate exchange with an intense hunger brewing.

“You… devilish woman. Always finding ways to taunt me,” he growls lowly, unable to hide the arousal painted across his features. Keep this up much longer and I’ll take you over my knee.” His threat hangs heavy in the air between you, laced with an enticing promise of raw domination and unrestrained pleasure.

“Now why don't you two come over here so we can properly begin our little game?” With that said, Chan extends an inviting gesture towards you both, eagerly anticipating what fresh adventures await.

On wobbly legs, you stand and Hyunjin helps you up. Chan leads you both into his bedroom where a queen sized bed provides you with more space than the couch.

“How do you want us?” Chan asks. “At the same time? You want me and Hyunjin to fill you up?”

Chan smirks at your hesitation, circling around the bed with a predatorial grace. He glances at both of you briefly before fixing his attention solely on you.

“Yes, that's exactly what I had in mind. Both of you… at the same time… filling me up completely.”

Chan and Hyunjin exchange a smile before Chan asks, “Do you want me underneath or on top? Your choice.” His voice carries a tantalizing edge. “Take your time. We have all night.”

You whine at the thought. “Want you under me And Hyunnie from the back. In my…” you flush, unable to finish the sentence.

Chan nods approvingly at your suggestion, feeling himself leaking from your boldness. “Sounds like a perfect arrangement to me.”

Without wasting another moment, Chan lays down on his back then guides you towards him. He positions himself beneath you and braces himself, rubbing his tip between your folds. “Soaked, love. ‘m gonna go right in.”

You slowly sink down onto Chan with a gasp. You chose him for this position because from your quick glance, Hyunjin was longer but had less girth, so he wouldn’t hurt as much when he fucked your ass.

“Channie….” you gasp, eyes tightly closed.

Chan groans deeply as you lower yourself onto him to the hilt, a wave of pure ecstasy coursing through his veins at the sensation of being enveloped by your warmth. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer against him as he savors the intimate contact.

“Ahh… fuck… you feel incredible, like always. Keep going. Slow and steady.” His voice carries a husky undertone filled with desire and contentment as he revels in the pleasure that only you can provide. “Don't hold back now… show me what you can do. I'm all yours tonight… make me yours completely.”

As you let yourself adjust to his gradual pace, you turn to Hyunjin and nod. He approaches and lines up to your second hole, looking into your eyes. He swipes his fingers down to the spot you and Chan are connected and uses it as lube for your ass.

“Ready?” You nod, Chan still moving below.

Chan nods in approval as he sees Hyunjin position himself behind you. He grips your hips tightly, guiding your movements atop him as you brace yourself for Hyunjin's entry. “Go ahead, Hyunjin. She's ready for you. Just be careful not to hurt her-” His words are punctuated by a deep moan as he thrusts upward into you.

Hyunjin slowly slides in, inch by inch, making sure you’re okay with each of his advancements. Your eyes widen at the slight burning sensation and Chan smiles up at you.

“Feel so full Channie,” you gasp, eyes watering. “Can you feel Hyunnie inside? Up against you?” Chan’s eyes darken at your words and his kiss is bruising.

Chan grunts deeply into your mouth as he senses Hyunjin's cock pressing against him from inside you, intensifying the already powerful sensations coursing through his body. He clings onto you tighter, unable to resist the magnetic pull that draws him closer to you in this intimate threesome.

“Yes… I can definitely feel him inside you. You look amazing… both of you do. Keep going…” His voice grows more passionate with each passing moment, mirroring the escalating intensity of their joint endeavors. “Don't hold back… wanna hear you.”

“Hyunnie…” you say, turning your head as much as you can. “You can start moving now. Want to feel you both moving at the same time.”

Both Chan’s and Hyunjin’s pupils are blown black as Hyunjin begins moving slowly. Your head falls onto Chan’s chest at the sensation. They both have a bruising grip on your hips as they begin using you for their own pleasure.

Feeling Hyunjin start to move within you alongside his own rhythmic thrusts, Chan can't help but let out a guttural groan of pleasure. He tightens his grip on your hips even further, eager to drive both of them deeper into you as they synchronize their motions.

“Yes… just like that. I want to hear you scream my name while we fill you up…” Hyunjin says, who had been all but silent up until now. His voice resonates with desire as he relentlessly drills into you.

The sensation is quickly becomes overwhelming. “Channie, ‘s too much,” you slur. “Need you to go slower-” You begin fluttering around the two of them, and they know it won’t be long now.

Chan senses your distress and reacts instantly, slowing down his pace while maintaining eye contact with you throughout. He leans forward to capture your lips in a tender kiss, grounding you amidst the whirlwind of intense sensations.

“Easy. Just breathe and relax…” His voice carries an assuring tone as he continues to guide you through this shared intimacy at a more manageable speed. “Just focus on me.”

You nod wearily, and he kisses the tears away that begin forming at the corners of your eyes.

“Shit!” Hyunjin gasps from behind you. “Not gonna last. Do you- d’you want me to pull out-“

You shake your head firmly at Hyunjin's query, maintaining attentive focus on keeping up with the two of them.

“No… don't pull out yet. Lemme ride it out till the end.”

Chan continues to guide you. “We're almost there… hang on just a little longer. You can do it.” His whispered encouragement vibrates against your skin as he plants gentle kisses along your neck, offering solace amidst the tumultuous waves of pleasure washing through you.

“You're incredible. Keep going… give it all you've got…” His praise is interspersed with his deep moans of ecstasy as he seeks to propel each of you towards your ultimate climax.

Suddenly, an idea strikes you. “Wait- Hyunnie!” They both stop moving immediately, worry on their faces.

“Is everything okay? Did we hurt you?” Hyunjin asks. You shake your head.

“No, but… want you both…” you struggle to catch your breath. “Want you both in the same hole.”

Chan exchanges a brief but intense look with Hyunjin before turning back to you, his eyes shining with lust.

“If that's what you want, then that's what we'll give you,” Chan says. “Are you sure about this? Think you can handle it?”

His voice carries an edge of caution mixed with an undercurrent of desire as he waits for your confirmation. You nod. Chan shifts his focus towards Hyunjin, silently communicating their intent to proceed with your request.

Hyunjin slowly withdraws before lining himself up to your pussy. He slowly slides himself in, a loud groan slipping from his lips. Your eyes roll back as they both stay still, letting you adjust. Once you’re ready, you begin bouncing your hips in earnest onto the both of them, revelling in the feeling.

“You like that Channie? Like feeling Hyunjin right up against you inside me? Gonna fill me up good, the both of you.” They both groan at your words, their pace quickening.

“Gonna eat it out of me when you’re both done? Want you to eat every last drop once you’ve filled me up.” You’re babbling now, but the sensations feel so good you don’t care what you’re saying.

Chan pulls you closer against him as he nods eagerly at your suggestion, his dark eyes gleaming with unadulterated lust. “Absolutely… I want every single drop of both of us inside you when we're done here tonight. Nothing will go to waste.”

“You and Hyunnie can take turns eating it hmm? Do you want that Hyunnie?” you ask as you turn to face him.

Hyunjin’s eyes practically pop out of his head at the thought.

Chan smirks devilishly at your proposal, nodding affirmatively while maintaining intense eye contact with you.

“Yes… I want that,” Hyunjin whines. “I'll make sure none of it goes untasted… every last drop.”

With both of them moving rapidly in you, you were hurtling towards you orgasm, throat raw form screaming.

“Not gonna last Channie …….. Hyunnie… been so good to me, gonna make me-”

Chan focuses all his energy on supporting you through your impending climax, increasing his thrusts in sync with Hyunjin's. He leans in close to whisper hotly into your ear, “You're doing great…keep going… gonna come for the both of us? Like a good girl, yeah?”

His words drive you towards your release. His breath comes out in ragged pants as he pours every ounce of his being into his hips, snapping them back against you in time with Hyunjin. The ferocity of their joint actions and the intensity of their shared vocalizations tip you over the edge and you’re screaming. Tears stream down your face and onto Chan’s muscular chest as they continue their attack on your pussy. You’re clamping around the both of them; it won’t take much longer.

“Amost there. Keep holding on… just a little longer…” With each word he speaks, Chan injects a surge of energy into his pursuit of pleasure, pushing himself ever closer to his climax.

“Fuck!” Hyunjin gasps, and a warm sensation fills you right as Chan wraps his fingers into your hair and pulls you down for a bruising kiss. Chan lets out a guttural groan of pleasure as he releases his seed into you alongside Hyunjin's, their combined cum merging within your pussy. You feel the two of them mixing and slowly dripping out of you.

“You were incredible…” Chan’s voice is thick with emotion as he breaks the kiss, panting heavily against your sweat-soaked skin. The afterglow of the shared climax lingers heavily in the air around you, adding an ethereal quality to the otherwise earthy ambiance of your tangled bodies.

Hyunjin gingerly pulls out first, collapsing on one side of you. You slowly raise yourself off of Chan and follow Hyunjin’s suit, flopping down between the two of them. Chan glances at Hyunjin and they both look down at you with evil grins.

“Got one more in you princess?” Hyunjin says, sounding far more innocent than he looks. Like a cat that ate the canary. Your eyes widen at them as Hyunjin shimmies down your body until his mouth is once again between your legs.

“Such a mess she’s made, Channie-hyung,” Hyunjin tsks, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

“Oh, I know.” Chan concurs. “Our girl’s made a mess of my sheets. We’ll have to punish her for that…”

Chan smirks down at you as he maneuvers between your legs alongside Hyunjin. “Oh… I can already see how excited you are for round two. Not that I blame you; you look absolutely irresistible after what we just did.”

He watches you squirm while Hyunjin continues the quest to clean you up, his lips pursing as he eats his own release out of you. He had a mix of all three of you dripping down his chin. You thought you could combust. Chan settles his face down and begins his own assault on your folds.

You suspected tonight was going to be a long night.

[crazylittlejester]

i hope this isn’t weird to say, but can i hear you yap about your fiancée? like the little things you love about them? (you don’t have to if neither of you are comfortable with it! ignore this ask if it makes you uncomfortable)

aldkfkdk dw it’s okay!

for starters, no other mother fucker would say shit like this to me and then ACTUALLY give me an explanation:

fr tho, she’s not just my fiancee she’s my best friend and i love her so so much. if no one’s got my back, i know she does, and i have hers. If i need to yap about something, I know she’ll listen and hype me up, and i absolutely do the same for her. She’s truly one of the kindest, most caring people I’ve ever met in my entire life, and I genuinely get very very sad when she goes out of state for college because i miss her 😭

I can text her about a problem or something I’m upset about and she’ll respond with “NTA, divorce” and it’s genuinely the FUNNIEST fucking thing

We have this thing that she’s not allowed to speak while I’m drinking something or have food in my mouth because she chooses the absolute worst moments to say the funniest things and having water come out your nose HURTS, and a few months ago we were getting coffee and she waited until I took a nice big sip before showing me the stupidest tiktok I’ve ever seen and everyone in the coffee shop had to watch me fight for my fucking life. And yes it is a bit annoying to choke and die every time i eat or drink around her, but I do genuinely love the way this mf looks at me like :3 before showing me a meme. istg she does it on purpose /j

every time we play bg3 together she fucking sits there and waits for me to think she wont do it, and then shoves my fucking character or hits them with a sword and then RUNS AWAY AND I CAN NEVER GET HER BACK BECAUSE SHES TOO FAST 😭

she’s also the one who OFFICIALLY got me into Zelda, so without her I probably wouldn’t have gotten into LU. I’d played the og LOZ before when I was 12, but when we were 18 the two of us when to target and she was like “hey man this seems like something you’d like” and had me play the BOTW demo and now I’m here. She gave me the final push and I’ve been yappin’ here ever since. And I think it’s funny that it was my constant yapping that was the final push for HER to get into HER current hyperfixation, bg3. we cursed each other /j

i also love that i’ll go check to see if she got home okay (because i have her location) or im just curious to see what she’s doing, and then I’ll find her in the middle of a fucking lake out of the goddamn country. It never fails to make me laugh 😭

but yeah she’s great, she’s awesome, she’s the funniest person alive, i love her, she’s my best friend, we’re gonna hang a framed photo of autism creature on our wall once we’re able to get an apartment. and there’s no one else who will continue to say “GO PISS GURL!!!” with me in 2024 🫶

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Mota prompt, ot3 - Bucky/Buck/Curt. Just something about being the one black cat coded boyfriend between two orange cats coded boyfriends. I suppose the interesting thing here is that sometimes the black cat isn't who you think it is.

Curt can tell what people think of him and Bucky and Buck. They look at the three of them when they're introduced as a trio, and they immediately try to pinpoint which one is the most trouble.

Most of the time, they end up choosing Bucky. Which Curt doesn't consider a bad guess for strangers. Bucky's charming and loud and borderline annoying in his cockiness (all things that Curt liked right away). He's always got a joke and a grin, and he makes no bones about causing trouble if it gets a laugh.

When they decide it's Curt, he always responds with a slow, shit-eating grin and an easy roll of his shoulders. He never asks what sort of trouble they think he causes, but he knows what he looks like and what he sounds like, and when you're a stocky fucker from the Bronx with scars on your knuckles (he fell off his bike a lot as a kid), people figure you're the muscle for Bucky's mouth.

They're not entirely wrong about that, either.

What's amazing about watching people size up the three of them and choose who to watch out for, they never clock Buck. Not once. They eye him up and decide he must be a nice young man. Which is ridiculous because neither Curt nor Bucky come close to meeting that list of requirements, so why would Buck spend time with them if he's so polite and quiet and reserved.

It's a question Curt hears a lot. One Bucky even brings up in bed now and again to goad Buck into shoving him on the mattress and showing him exactly how "impolite" he can be. Those nights are extra-fun because Buck lets out the wilder part of himself. They all wrestle and leave marks on each other, and in the morning, Curt gets to watch with half-closed eyes as Buck examines where they've bitten him and left bruises and smile knowing he and Bucky have claimed him yet again.

The truth is, no one thinks Buck is any sort of trouble at all. The truth also is he's the biggest trouble of the three of them. It comes down to the fact that he's a fucking sneak and a half with the ability to keep a straight face while lying through his goddamn teeth. He pretends he doesn't know what he looks like, but Curt's seen that fucking smile get used to get out of trouble or steer attention away from whatever problem Curt and Bucky are causing.

"He's gonna be the goddamn death of us," Bucky mutters to Curt as they watch Buck go wide-eyed and faux-dumb to distract an angry soldier about paying out a poker loss to Curt, who he swears cheated.

Curt flips his spare ace back up his sleeve and ducks under Bucky's raised arm. "Only if he gets caught."

Bucky snorts in amusement and gives Curt a shake. Buck comes back over and drops on the other side of Bucky. "Come to an accord?" Bucky asks, pulling Buck close with his other arm.

"Nope. He won't pay." Buck watches the guy get led away by his friends, then reaches into his pocket and tosses a wallet in front of Curt. "So, I stole his wallet."

Bucky cackles and kisses Buck loudly on the cheek as Curt tucks the wallet under the table and takes the cash he's owed plus two dollars as annoyance tax. He passes the wallet back to Buck, who stands to leave the wallet someplace they can't be incriminated.

"Next time, tuck your fucking wrist," Buck says to Curt. Curt blows him a kiss. Buck leans across Buck and taps his forehead against Curt's. Curt doesn't feel Buck touch his wrist, but he laughs when Buck holds up the ace, then flicks it at him.

"Hey, what about me?" Bucky asks, and beams when Buck taps their foreheads together as he straightens.

Curt snugs up against Bucky again as they watch Buck walk halfway across the room and lean on a table to talk to the men there. It's only because he's taught him the trick that they see him push the wallet to the very tip of his fingers and drop it to the floor under the table.

"I am pretty sure he could murder us in broad daylight while being recorded by a newsreel camera, and no one would believe it," Curt says.

"Yeah, but what a way to go," Bucky replies, and Curt can only nod in agreement.

[fastofthekillones]

20

I'm just going to pin this post and use it to find weird tags that I have inexplicably written on something, mostly for my own gratification, but if any of you wonderful weirdos wanna look, feel free

[rotationalsymmetry]

Re the presidential election that is happening an entire year and several months from now in the US:

Presidential elections are scary and stressful. A lot rides on the outcome, which is unknown ahead of time and not directly under any individual’s control, and yet it is not unambiguously clear that individual actions are irrelevant either.

People do not handle this combination of factors well. People can generally handle situations that are entirely up to them and can generally handle adverse situations that they have no control over and know for certain that they have no control over.

People tend to respond to this sort of stress and fear by attempting to increase personal and social control.

(Another way this manifests is rape/sexual violence. The prevalence of sexual violence is not entirely under the control of potential victims, but it is also not a situation where it is clear that what potential victims do is completely irrelevant. So sometimes people get big into don’t leave your drink unattended and don’t wear that and don’t walk places alone and always carry pepper spray, and so on. Specifically women who have been raped will often do this to other women who they are afraid might get raped, and to themselves. Hypervigilance is a trauma response.)

It is for many people more comforting to blame adverse election outcomes on leftists voting third party or not voting at all, as illogical and thoroughly unconstructive as that is, rather than to accept that the election outcome is not actually something that can be guaranteed with adequate social cohesion.

This is not without negative consequences.

But moreover: social media as it is currently configured makes social cohesion on a large scale impossible. Look at any issue of discourse: it splits into two wild extremes. (Eg: outdoor cats, the value of avoiding meat, whether it’s morally acceptable to read Harry Potter fanfiction, whether ao3 is good or bad, whether any given celebrity is good or bad, what the deal is with the word queer, what the deal is with bigotry towards trans masca specifically, whether people wearing puppy masks at Pride violate other people’s consent, what “culturally Christian” signifies, etc etc etc.) And then each extreme will often get extreme levels of social cohesion within the group, but at the cost of hating the guts of the opposing group (and in some cases literally believing the other side is entirely composed of people who want to abuse children sexually.) This is what happens with the voting discourse: it splits into one “vote blue no matter who” group which is ideologically consistent about the need to vote and vote Democrat (how many of them actually do vote is not entirely clear, because the social pressure only applies to insisting people should vote, there is no way to confirm members of the faction actually do or refrain from doing anything offline) and a “voting is useless wake up sheeple” group which is ideologically consistent about the utter futility of voting. That…is not actually a good outcome. But it’s the outcome you get, because it’s the outcome that happens with everyone one of these discourse topics. And if you want to make sure your mutual-sphere is free of the anti voting crowd, it’s effective at that, but since we are talking about a behavior that happens offline I hardly see how that can be a good thing.

There is a particular level of irony I really can’t stomach around this. One of the things the Democratic Party clearly does better than Republicans is that they’re the bodioy autonomy party, on abortion (sorta, officially Dems tend to still express that abortion is suboptimal and should be infrequent, but still, they do want it to be legal), and on trans health care, and on gay rights stuff, and on drug stuff. And yet. The tumblr Democrat stans apparently believe in neither personal autonomy nor democracy when it comes to elections. Don’t fucking tell me what I have to do you fuckers.

and there is an extra layer of irony when it comes to the people who genuinely prefer the bleeding edge of the Democratic party, like Bernie Sanders. Have you not been paying attention? This is how we always get the moderates. During the primary you have to vote for the moderate because tue moderate is “more electable”. Why? Because it’s for some reason viewed as acceptable for people to refuse a progressive in favor of a conservative but not to refuse a moderate in favor of fuck you it’s someone worth voting for or nothing Don’t you see? The terms of the public debate negate the legitimacy of ever supporting a progressive. Because as long as not voting for the moderate in the general election is seen as a morally unacceptable act (and therefor one that doesn’t have to be accounted for when determining someone’s “electability”), the moderate is always going to be “more electable” and we can’t have a progressive ever. Because it’s also morally unacceptable to vote for the “less electable” candidate of the attitude is “vote blue no matter who”. And then you have Democrats literally giving money to the primary campaigns of the more extreme Republicans so they can face a “less electable” candidate (it’s not about electability in the sense of who the right will vote for, the right is happy to vote for extreme candidates, it’s about who will scare the Democratic base into opening their pocketbooks and turning up at the polls) and it’s a never ending cycle of blue no matter who candidates vs the biggest horror shows the republicans can turn up with. The only way we can break out of that is to take a stand and say no, we’re not going to just vote our fears, we are going to give in to blackmail, we are actually going to vote based on what we WANT and not what we fear, and it’s not going to end at voting either, and we are not going to be fooled into believing our true power is in elections and that we can lose our true power if we lose the ability to have elections.

[sameoldrigmarole]

We need to talk about Friend-zoning

No one will read this, but I need to get it off my chest. Friend-zoning needs to stop.

In the recent past, I changed jobs. It’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. However, to an ex-coworker, this apparently made me a target.

I’ve known this boy (I call men, men, when they act like it) for 4 years. I’ve never treated him any different than any other person I’ve worked with. Because I wasn’t a raging bitch to him from the start we just have a “connection”.

It started with him texting me when he was drunk. I’d blow it off and tell him to sleep it off. It progressed to texting me at a work function I was invited to while his wife was on his arm (did I mention he was married?). I again asked him how many drinks he’d had and when he insisted he was being sincere I, gently but firmly, told him we would never be more than friends.

The way he turned so quickly. “I really feel a connection with you and I know you feel it too.” Strike one was telling me how I should feel. He only knows me through work. He’s never seen the real me. Honestly strike one should have been trying to hit me up when he’s MARRIED. But I gave him the benefit of the doubt.

Then he tried to imply I wasn’t interested in men. Like there’s no way in the world he could ever be turned down, I must be a lesbian. Sir, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. I’d honestly prefer a woman to speaking with you at this point. But I’m asexual. I don’t give a shit about anybody, but that’s none of your damn business and I don’t have to explain myself to you. Not to mention he’s 13 years my senior and MARRIED. Strike two.

I SAID NO. But when has that EVER been enough.

He started texting me in the middle of the night last weekend. I realized the day was coming where I was going to have to be professionally mean. I didn’t respond to the texts stating that he wanted to see me “can you get away?” As if I’m the one that’s sneaking around. He texts again two days later “why didn’t you text me back?” I was sleeping and I don’t owe you anything! He had the audacity to tell me there was no way I was asleep. Boy! I’ve made every decision to NOT have you in my bed. Are you seriously trying to tell me why I didn’t respond.

And you’re thinking. Why entertain this? Why don’t you just tell him to fuck off? Well, the industry I’m in, I can’t lose the connections I have at my old job. Not in a bad way at least. So I’m doing everything I can to not turn this into a bad situation for either of us. I’m not trying to ruin anyone’s life here.

TODAY he texts me while I’m at work in meetings all day. “Let’s go get a drink tonight.” I didn’t respond right away. I’m at work. I don’t have time for the bullshit. If no one’s dying, I’ll talk to you later. This fucker texts me an hour later saying “I’ll take that as a no, sorry I won’t bother you anymore.”

Strike three.

One thing that people don’t know/understand about me, I do everything I can to make time for people. I’ve always felt like I’ve bothered those around me. Call it childhood trauma or whatever. This was possibly one of the worst things someone could say to me. I go out of my way to make sure people don’t think I’m bothered by them. This was my tipping point. It infuriated me and I don’t take things sitting down. I put it out there. Told him I wasn’t going to apologize for not getting back to him when I was at work. I’m neither his wife or girlfriend. I owe him nothing. I’ve now said multiple times that this wouldn’t go further than a friendship and I’d hoped that he would respect me enough to accept that and not accuse me of being bothered by him when I make time for people when it’s genuine. And I told him that saying that and treating me this way hurt and I don’t deserve it.

He went off. Apologizing if I misunderstood him and telling me that he would appreciate it if i stopped speaking about it because it’s getting around the office. Boy! I’ve spoken to you. Sorry if you can’t stop running your mouth. And what’s with the gaslighting. I have the receipts. There’s no misunderstanding what you were doing.

But back to the main topic. The whole time he accused me of friend-zoning him. Because I was friendly? Because I listen when people talk? I never asked for anything from him. Never lead him into thinking that this was anything more than friendship, but I’m doing him wrong because I didn’t give in and go out with him? I cared more about my female coworkers than I ever did about him, but I’m the problem because he’s delusional?

Stop saying you’re friend-zoned. YOU misinterpreted a situation. It sucks. It doesn’t feel good. But just own up to it!

We are not to blame for your hurt feelings if we didn’t know or reciprocate them in any way.

I refuse to be villainized because I didn’t go along with a predators schemes. Because that’s all this was. He was trying to manipulate me into doing something that I didn’t want to do. Does that make men feel better? Having a girl give you a sympathy lay because they feel bad for you? Does that not make you feel as small as you are?

Get yourself out of the damn friend-zone and grow the fuck up.

[mothmxwhump]

CW/TW: Pet whumpees, conditioning, multiple whumpees, whipping, nonbinary whumpee, degradation, BBU

The three trainees sit huddled together on the ground, clinging together for warmth. Eachwears the same outfit: gray shorts, a white tee, and a steel collar with a blinking light and sharp prongs.

“Berry. Stand.”

Berry, a twenty-year-old with dark blue hair that’s begun to turn brown at the roots, slowly rises to their feet. One of the boys sitting next to them, a redhead with sharp features, snarls.

“Leave Felix alone, they didn’t do anything to you fuckers!”

Berry whips around to face the redhead, Mars, with wide eyes. “P-please, please don’t-- ah!”

Their trainer smacks Berry’s head from behind, making them stumble out of surprise.

The third, Pickle, winces and curls into Mars’s side.

“Mars. Remove your shirt and kneel,” the trainer snaps. When Mars begins to protest, she adds, “Or Berry and Pickle will take your punishment for you.”

Mars grits his teeth and kneels down, yanking off his shirt and tossing it aside.

“Now, tell me the rules you broke.”

“Seriously?”

“Every word that comes out of your mouth that isn’t a rule is another lash, mutt.”

“Um, I argued with you. I--We’re not supposed to talk back to our trainers or prospective owner.”

“Keep going. I don’t have all day.”

“I, um, cursed, I’m supposed to stop that, and, uh, I called F--” He winces. “I called Berry by their old name. We’re our numbers unless and until we have an owner who gives us names.”

“Good boy, Mars. Pickle, you and Berry are to report to your next group session, a guard outside will escort you. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The two say in unison. Pickle casts a worried glance to Mars before following Berry out the door.

…

“...Do you think he’s okay?” Berry murmurs, quiet enough that the trainer doesn’t shock them for speaking.

“I, um, I don’t know. He’s, um, a fighter for a reason, though. And we’ve all gotten through the whip before,” Pickle responds softly. He keeps his eyes carefully trained on the veggies he’s cutting for a meal neither of them will eat.

“But--”

The oven timer goes off, and Pickle rushes over to turn it off before the trainer yells at him for the noise.

The smell of the freshly cooked chicken only serves to make Berry hungrier than normal, and for a moment they consider trying to sneak just a tiny bite of the carrots they’re cutting into coins. They shake the idea from their head and help Pickle garnish the chicken with them instead.

The trainer, a tall woman whose heels make loud clacks as she walks down the rows of small training kitchens, stops to examine their work.

“Hm. Both of you are for the same prospective, correct?”

“Y-yes, ma’am.”

“The cutting on the carrots is sloppy and you need to remove rosemary from its stem before use. Other than that it would be fine.”

“I, um, understand, miss. It won’t happen again. Should we report back to our primary handler for correction?” Pickle tilts his head slightly.

The woman sighs. “No, your prospective has made an appointment to observe both of you, as well as the guard dog you’ve been training with.”

“I understand, miss.” Berry nods their head.

The trainer shoos them off. “Go to your cell and await further instructions from your handler.”

The trainees obey quietly, bare feet padding through the hall. Neither even considers the exits, although they know by now which of the unmarked doors lead out of the training area of the facility. Eventually, the two arrive at the door of their cell. A small card is hung on the door with their designations and numbers.

“Mars”, 109413: Protection Primary, platonic secondary

“Pickle”, 207610: Domestic

“Berry”, 190818: Platonic Primary, domestic secondary

Berry pushes the door open, padding into the plain white room. Mars is laying on the floor, red blood splattered all across the floor and his pale skin. Their primary handler, Handler Garten, stands above him, analyzing her work.

His back is all torn up, open gashes still spilling blood. Smaller splatters blend in with his freckles, dotted like stars across his shoulders and cheeks. He barely manages to push himself up to look at Pickle and Berry, who both dive to help him sit upright. Handler Garten glares at them.

“All three of you are filthy. You’ll need to be cleaned up before you meet your prospective.”

[masked-disciple]

ayo all 5 seasons of Storm Chasers is on Youtube for free so like. if u want Tornado Time. it's there

(From my email inbox and my own tweet reply from earlier today.)

Delighted to tell you I am Already Aware of that show, although I haven't sat down and watched it in full because I've had zero time. Mostly when it's Tornado Time I run through my favourite Pecos Hank videos, or I find every single video that's ever done coverage of the El Reno 2013 EF-5. Skip Talbot did a two hour panel on it that was recorded and I've watched it several times.

Mind you, the fact I could identify Ivey's run with the TIV2 on a single screenshot of a video reposted twice without even reading the credit watermark is probably impressive.

Did you know that thing was more or less an armoured jeep, with hydraulic spikes that drove several feet into the ground to keep it from being flung? They lost two doors and most of the antennae and other recording equipment on top to that EF-4 in the video. Given that they lost the doors, and as my tweet says that was actual sheet metal across the windshield, it's a miracle neither of them died.

I dug up Ivey's original tweet about it way back when, quote-tweeted it just to remark on his steel balls, and the fucker liked my quote tweet within the day. Bro.

I wholly, 100% recommend Pecos Hank (Hank Schyma)'s channel for good tornado content, he's also a sweetheart with animals and absolutely understands that the moment the tornadoes are gone, stormchasers are now first responders. He's got a few videos pretty much entirely on rescuing people from debris and reporting to authorities that there's tornadoes on the ground.

Skip Talbot's great, much as I think he looks like baby Josh Hutcherson. Reed Timmer's aight, although I think he's a bit on the loud-streamer side personally. Dr. Anton Seimon's a treat whenever you can catch his footage on Youtube. Brandon Ivey has less of a Youtube presence than the others, but he also lets people do tours with him, which is a great way to see tornadoes and also Not Get In The Way Of The Actual Chasers.

But also like, catch y'all in a few days to a few weeks when Hank's done with the outbreak he put in my email and has the videos out for it. I've seen some lovely footage off twitter from the locals, can't wait to see the professional stuff on youtube.

To end things off, heavy heavy reminder to not chase tornadoes yourself. If you are not a chaser, get the fuck off the roads, and if you have safe shelter, get the fuck into your shelter. Tornadoes are lethal. Just because you're moving faster than it is doesn't mean you can deal with them pulling u-turns, swelling, and throwing trees and semis in your way. If you cannot identify the RFD in a matter of seconds, then you are in the way of actual chasers and you need to get the fuck off the road and into shelter. If you want to be there that bad, pay them to let you ride in the backseat and let them drive. You are probably not a scientist, these people are, and if things turn south (or north, I guess, most tornadoes don't track south) that's how you get people killed.

And now I must go to bed before I end up watching a ton of tornado videos all night when I have shit to do tomorrow. F in chat. Tornado time should be Always.

[tangelo-jay]

Weekly tarot dump. Ignore. Have a nice day!

It actually is easier to accept praise now. A little bit at least.

Two of wands with partnership as an interpretation again. Also anxiety. Which there has been a fair amount of. Explain in a bit.

I know that I do far too many of these love readings but I feel like I'm going crazy. I feel like I'm ready to move forward and onto something new and exciting. But trying to communicate with D isn't easy. More than half the time he just doesn't respond to my texts. Mind you, I am not going overboard with it. A text every few days about something random. A couple of responses to follow up when he actually says something. That's about it. But it feels like it's going nowhere. It makes me wonder all the time if I'm wrong about him. I start questioning if the universe is actually giving me vibes about him or not. Am I just trying to feel like I'm not alone? Am I just reading what I want to read from all of these and not what's actually there? Mind boggling.

On Monday I had the thought that maybe he doesn't know he can talk to me. With the way my mind works or how I was raised (perhaps growing up socialized as a girl), if someone were to come to me with problems I went to D with I would assume without question that I could do the same with that person. Maybe his brain works differently. Maybe he has had significantly different life experiences. Maybe he needs to be told explicitly that he can do that. So I did.

Me 6:56 pm: Hey sorry to be texting ya a bunch but I just had a thought. Thanks for listening every time I've needed to talk. I know we don't know each other real well but if ever need an ear, well, I've got 2. That… sentence started better than it ended but you get the point

He never responded to it.

Class on Thursday went well. It was small: two groups of three each with two students and a teacher. My group was Sensei F and... D. Literally I spent the whole class attempting to throw D around and it went pretty well. It does feel like I'm getting better and my mistakes aren't eating me alive as much as they used to. After class we got on the subject of cinnamon whiskey and I mentioned one that I really liked. Later I sent him a screenshot of it because the name is spelled funny and it's not the easiest thing to search for. No response.

Friday I was driving around doing a couple errands and trying my best to not think about D. It didn't really work. When I got home I sat in the driveway for a bit listening to the song that was playing, "The Kill" by The Dresden Dolls, and I started getting sad. I was afraid that with how often he just doesn't respond that me texting him at all is annoying him and that him not responding is on purpose. Like it's the polite way of saying 'stop trying to talk to me.' Alright, man, whatever. His loss. I went inside and heated up some mulled wine, intending to drink and go down the YouTube rabbit hole and just forget about it. And THEN... the fucker texts me back! About the whiskey, of course, commenting on the wordplay in the name. It couldn't have been more coincidental timing if someone had been actually trying. I attempted to start a conversation after that, asking if he's just not much of a texter and then saying how the card for the PPV looked pretty good. Neither of those got a response.

There's a quote from the show Leverage that's been in my head for a couple days now. Said by Parker, the master theif of the group.

"I think people are like locks. Really complicated and frustrating, but you can't force them. You have to take time and be fiddly. You learn to be patient and just wait until you hear the... click."

Pretty sure that was Hermes telling me that I need to just be patient with D. Half the time he's telling me I need to go for it and then he's telling me to be patient. It seems a little contradictory but I guess it makes sense. With consistency, slow progress is still progress. Or something like that. The key is to just be consistent.

Sounds a little bit like D, doesn't it? Or at the very least what I'm making of this situation.

Uuuuuuuuuugh, fiiiiiiiiiine.

Not really sure to make of this part but I think the Knight of Pentacles tells me most of what I need to know.

Email daily reading from Nov. 20

"Give yourself more credit. Happy times are ahead." Well, that's encouraging 🌞

Please ignore. I just needed to see all the tarot things I've done recently all in one place.

7 of pentacles "patience, planning, planting seeds, not ready for harvest"

[rax-writes]

More

Fandom:  MCU Pairing:  Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader Warnings:  Sexual intercourse with a female-identifying person with a vagina + a bit of sugar daddy Zemo vibes at the end Notes:  Y’all... don’t judge me. I have a power kink, and Marvel did me dirty by randomly deciding that Zemo is fifthly rich royalty. And my girl @henrysmorgan​ did me even dirtier by actively encouraging my attraction to this fucker. So, blame Marvel, and blame her. // This is kind of really fucking long, and I didn’t edit it much, because I wanted to get it posted before episode 4, in case that episode flips the script. So, potentially some editing issues, and slightly rushed writing. Hopefully it’s alright, but please let me know if I screwed up anywhere. // Lots and lots of TFAWS ep. 3 spoilers

When Bucky texted you to ask that you meet him in some dusty, old, abandoned-looking car garage, you certainly didn’t know what to expect. All you knew was that an old friend needed your help, so you intended to be there.

It had been a few months since you’d last seen him, and even longer since you’d participated in any sort of mission, but you suspected that was what you were walking into. Being exposed to the Mind Stone had granted you the power of telepathy, which meant that SHIELD was quite keen on persuading you to work for them. They trained you in martial arts and hand-to-hand combat, and you went on miscellaneous missions a handful of times. They put in a lot of effort to convince you that it was your moral obligation as an “enhanced individual” to help them with these missions, but you ultimately decided that that simply wasn’t the kind of life you wanted. Instead, after the Blip, you began working a desk job for SHIELD, which is when you crossed paths with Bucky, helping him with paperwork associated with his pardon, and the two of you formed a friendship. But SHIELD kept trying to coerce you to get back into the field, constantly badgering you about it and making it clear that you weren’t wanted if all you were doing was paperwork.

The truth is, you weren’t cut out to be a superhero, and you had no desire to be. It didn’t help that your entire country had been reduced to rubble several years prior, leaving you with a bottomless pit of homelessness in your heart. So, you left SHIELD, and started a life in Berlin, where you were content to live out your days as the owner of a small bakery, residing in the small apartment above your shop.

That is, until Bucky Barnes dragged you into a particularly sticky situation, with a certain Baron Helmut Zemo.

You knew that helping Bucky and Sam would throw a colossal wrench in the life you’d created for yourself in Berlin, but after they explained the situation with the super soldiers, coupled with Bucky’s puppy dog eyes, you found yourself refraining from storming out of the building the second you saw Helmut fucking Zemo.

“We need you to keep an eye on him. You don’t have to tap into his mind 24/7, we just want a heads up if he’s going to screw us over,” Bucky explained.

"Look, we really need him. We’re obviously scraping the bottom of the barrel here, otherwise he'd still be in that cell. And neither of us want to be packing a criminal around like a rich bitch's chihuahua, so we need you here to make sure we're not gonna get bit," Sam explained.

"Fine. But you both owe me," you relented, and they both took sighs of relief. You glanced at Zemo, locking eyes with him for several tense moments. He gave you a polite smile, giving off the impression that he had nothing to hide – which he didn't, as his thoughts showed his intentions were pure at the moment. "We're good for now. He just genuinely wants the opportunity to take down these new super soldiers."

Sam and Bucky nodded, visibly releasing tension from their shoulders as they moved to head out, now reassured that Zemo was truly on their side. Meanwhile, Zemo eyed you with curiosity and awe, murmuring, "Fascinating."

The four of you walked on the landing strip toward a private jet, owned by Zemo.

"So all this time you've been rich?"

"I was a Baron, Sam. My family was royalty before your friends destroyed my country," Zemo explained, before glancing at you with a small smile. "But you knew that already."

"Wait, how did she know that?" Sam asked, then turned to you. "How did you know that?"

"I am Sokovian myself. I was certainly not royalty, but I lived there for my entire life, until it was destroyed," you explained, stopping outside the jet as Zemo greeted the elderly butler, Oeznik, in your native language. It made you smile to yourself; it had been years since you'd heard it spoken. Zemo shot you a grin when he noticed, and when you took a peek into his mind, you saw that he understood exactly how you felt.

As the butler handed Zemo a flute of champagne after you all boarded the jet, the Baron smiled politely as Oeznik stated, “Apologies if that's a little warm. The fridge is out, but I will see if there is some good food in the galley.”

Zemo glanced as you sat across from him, then in Sokovian, Zemo told Oeznik, "Another flute for the lady, please. And if the food does not pass the smell test, give it to the gentlemen."

"It's good to have you back, sir!"

As the man retreated to the cockpit, also in Sokovian, you noted, "You are a mischievous man, even more so than in your infamously criminal ways."

"You will find that there is more to me than meets the eye, angel," he responded coolly, the Sokovian language rolling off his tongue like honey. Before you could respond, admittedly enjoying speaking Sokovian, Sam grew tired of everyone speaking a language he couldn't understand.

"Why don't you tell us about where we're going?"

After a tense exchange between Bucky and Zemo, followed by a discussion about Marvin Gaye, Zemo finally got to the point: Madripoor. You exhaled slowly, resting your forehead in your palm in exasperation.

“You couldn’t have invited me on a mission to Cancun? Or Paris? Why must it be Madripoor?” you asked Bucky, who shot you a tight-lipped, pitying smile, silently apologizing for what he was dragging you into.

“What’s up with Madripoor? You guys talk about it like it’s Skull Island.”

“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s,” Bucky explained.

“And upon seeing it, you would see that times there haven’t changed one bit since then,” you added.

“It’s kept its lawless ways. But we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone,” Zemo said.

You frowned as you caught a glimpse of Bucky’s thoughts as he went silent. Fear. Anxiety. Disdain. Apprehension. You reached across to rest your hand on his shoulder and give it a reassuring squeeze. He shot you a small smile, then looked out the window.

Upon landing in Madripoor, one of Zemo’s contacts met you on the landing strip with a new wardrobe for you, Bucky, and Sam, and Zemo explained that each outfit was per his instruction, carefully chosen to fit the role each of you would be playing in Madripoor. One by one, you took the covered clothes hanger to the bathroom of the jet and changed. Bucky was first, stepping out in some sort of leather number, looking eerily similar to the Winter Soldier you’d seen in photos. Sam was next, donning a three-piece suit of burgundy and gold. He looked sharp, although he was immediately complaining about how ostentatious it was. And finally, you stepped into the room and closed the door behind you, unzipping the covering on the hanger and revealing your “carefully chosen” outfit.

“Ich werde dir im Schlaf die Eier abreißen, Zemo!”

Bucky choked on his water and Zemo chuckled under his breath, while Sam looked between the two in confusion.

“I don’t know what she said, but she sounded pissed,” he observed, eyeing Zemo suspiciously.

“She informed me that she intends to remove my testicles in my sleep.”

“And why is that?”

“Perhaps because he’s chosen to parade me around Madripoor like a cheap whore,” you said angrily, stepping out of the bathroom with your hands on your hips, glaring at Zemo.

“That dress is by Armani Prive, and your shoes are Louboutins – far from ‘cheap.’ And you do not look like a whore, the dress is merely more revealing than what you are used to,” Zemo argued, standing and walking over to survey your outfit. He seemed to be enjoying what he saw, judging from the way his eyes raked up and down your body, but you didn’t dare check his thoughts to confirm or deny it.

If you were honest with yourself, he was right. It was a very nice dress; plum purple, matching the color of Zemo’s turtleneck, with long, fitted sleeves, all of it made of the softest silk you had ever touched. It was fitted at the top but flowy from the hips down, with a low balconette-style neckline, showing more of your chest than you were accustomed to, although you pulled it off quite nicely. It ended just above your knees, which was fine, as you sometimes wore skirts of that length. Overall, the luxury of it and the low-cut neckline ensured that you were out of your comfort zone, but you looked stunning – and expensive, despite your spite-fueled initial claim.

“I thought the color would look nice on you, and I was right. And I knew that the flow of the fabric at the bottom would allow for this,” Zemo said, his hand gingerly trailing from your waist to your thigh, where he pulled up the hem of your dress slightly to reveal the edge of the Glock strapped into your thigh holster. He smirked as his suspicion was confirmed. He knew you’d find a way to arm yourself, regardless of what you wore.

In hindsight, the way Zemo touched your side and lifted your skirt was all far more intimate than you should have allowed, and yet… you couldn’t deny the way your breath caught in your throat when he touched you, or how his close proximity made your body temperature rise, as he gazed down at you with those intense brown eyes.

Christ, you needed to get laid. Soon. Before you further entertained the idea of jumping the bones of a highly wanted criminal.

“Touch me like that again, and I will kill you where you stand,” you informed him sternly, and Zemo immediately took a step backwards, looking apologetic. From the corner of your eye, you saw both Sam and Bucky visibly relax, tension leaving their shoulders. You had read their thoughts briefly, and they were both wondering why the hell you were so calm about getting cozy with Zemo. The absolute last thing you wanted was for them to know that you were, in fact, inexplicably drawn to being that close to the Baron.

As the four of you walked along a bridge in Madripoor, Sam was quick to resume his complaining.

“We have to do something about this. I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.”

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp. You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

“He even has a bad nickname,” Sam grumbled, then looked at the phone Zemo handed him. “Hell, he does look like me, though.”

“And who am I supposed to be?” you inquired, glancing down at your clothing to see if you could guess who you were meant to be portraying. An heiress or socialite, perhaps.

“My fiancée,” Zemo answered simply, the faintest smile on his lips.

You barked out a crude laugh, “Oh, I think not.”

“There is no one involved with Madripoor who looks like you. And it is rare that there are newcomers to the island, especially not in the place we’re going. Pretending you are someone random would raise concerns about the intentions of your presence; you would be perceived as a potential threat, which would jeopardize our mission. It is far easier to simply pretend we are engaged, I assure you.”

You hesitated a moment, before arguing, “No one will believe that we are engaged.”

Zemo pulled something from the inside pocket of his jacket, took your left hand, and slipped it onto your ring finger. It was a solitaire diamond ring; not large enough to be gaudy, but enough to catch anyone’s eye.

“They will if you play your part well,” he told you, then addressed the rest of your party when he added, “No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There is no margin for error.”

The four of you reached a sleek black car, and climbed in, you in the back between Sam and Bucky. The ride to Low Town was tense and silent, as each of you mentally prepared for what lay ahead. When you arrived, Zemo offered you his hand as you exited the car, and the pointed look in his eyes told you that it was time to begin playing your part. You took his hand, and as you began walking into the heart of Low Town, he laced his fingers with yours. As the crowd drew near, Zemo wrapped his arm around your shoulders, gloved fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your shoulder. After reading his mind, you realized that it was both for the sake of protecting you, and showing possessiveness to make it believable that you were his girl – and because he simply enjoyed having your body close, although you suspected that he’d rather you have not known that.

Despite the fact that you had been on a few missions for SHIELD, you were not exactly incapable of fear; you did not possess nerves of steel. All of the missions you’d been on were low-profile, and you were mostly just there for the sake of gathering information from those reluctant to share it. Sure, you’d been in danger before, you’d had to fight your way out of several sticky situations, but this… this was different. You were in the crime capital of the world, a lawless place filled to the brim with crooks, thieves, and murderers. More than likely, any given person around could slit your throat and never bat an eye or give you a second thought. Swallowing your own pride in the face of fear prompted you to return Zemo’s gesture, wrapping your arm around his waist and sticking close to him, which earned a smile from the man.

When you arrived at your destination, Zemo approached the bar and leaned against it confidently on one arm, the other still wrapped firmly around your shoulders.

“Hello, gentleman,” the bartender greeted, before his eyes fell on you. “Who’s your new lady friend, Baron?”

“My fiancée,” Zemo answered, then turned to you and ran his finger along your jawline, as you looked at him in adoration. “Isn’t she lovely?”

“Very,” the bartender acknowledged, then turned to Sam. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby,” Zemo responded.

The bartender made ‘Smiling Tiger’ his usual drink, which apparently consisted of… something he cut out of a snake, and dropped in a shot glass with a bit of liquor. You shared a look with Bucky before he turned away to survey the room, and when you read his thoughts, you found that you both desperately wanted to laugh out loud at Sam’s ‘short end of the stick’ situation, but didn’t want to risk everyone’s lives for the sake of a chuckle. You returned your attention to Zemo, opting to sell the whole “fiancée” thing a bit more by turning into him and tracing patterns on his chest as you gazed at him affectionately, while the bartender handed you and Zemo each a shot glass of your own – sans snake organs, thankfully. You both downed yours, while Sam understandably struggled a bit more with his, but still managed it.

A random man approached Zemo then, and as Zemo turned to face him, he protectively moved you behind him a bit.

“I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo countered, gesturing toward Bucky, who looked menacing as he pretended to be the Winter Soldier. “Or bring Selby for a chat.”

After a weary look in Bucky’s direction, the man walked away, and Zemo turned back around to face the bar, this time keeping you in between him in the bar, in case someone were to come up behind him – which they did a few moments later.

“Winter Soldier… attack,” Zemo commanded in Russian, as a different man came up and laid a hand on Zemo’s shoulder. With a pained look in his eye that quickly shifted to cold determination, Bucky grabbed the man’s hand with his vibranium arm, twisting it as he removed it from Zemo’s shoulder. Zemo took a step away from the bar to allow you room to turn and observe as Bucky beat the absolute shit out of various challengers. Zemo wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him as he noted, “Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.”

The unmistakable sound of numerous guns cocking drew your attention away from the altercation, and Zemo gently pushed you behind him as he surveyed the room to note all the weapons drawn. Sam grabbed Bucky’s bionic arm to stop him, but Zemo whispered, “Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.”

“Well done, soldier,” Zemo then said to Bucky in Russian, signaling for the ‘Winter Soldier’ to stop.

“Selby will see you now,” the bartender interjected, and Bucky released his grip on the random man’s throat.

“Thank you,” Zemo responded, walking off to find Selby, grabbing your hand to guide you, but not before you spared a sorrowful glance at Bucky as your friends followed closely behind.

As Zemo took a seat on a couch across from Selby, you sat close to him, crossing your legs gracefully as you leaned into him, your arm wrapped around his as he clasped his hands in his lap authoritatively. You watched his exchange with Selby in silence, as did Sam – and Bucky, of course, considering he was pretending to be the Winter Soldier.

“By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison,” Selby told Zemo, then smiled as she looked you up and down, before her eyes found the diamond ring. “And not engaged – to a woman far out of your league, I might add.”

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo answered calmly, then looked over at you, staring into your eyes with warmth and adoration, and you smiled lovingly at him. “My beautiful fiancée was a guard at the prison. We fell in love over the years, and she helped me escape. Anyway, I’m sure you have already figured out what I’m here for.”

The conversation went relatively smoothly after that, until Sam’s goddamn phone rang and screwed the entire operation. In the blink of an eye, Selby was shot dead, you had shot two of the guards with the gun strapped to your thigh, and Sam and Bucky had each knocked out one, before Zemo suggested sneaking out of the bar as best you could, without any weapons. You secured your gun back in its holster, not missing the way Zemo watched as you hiked your dress up to do so, before making a break for it with the three of them.

Once you were on the streets of Madripoor, bounty hunters began to come out of the woodwork, and when they began shooting at you, Zemo abruptly grabbed your hand and ran down a nearby alleyway. As you were running, the heel of your stiletto caught on a grate, and you’d have fallen flat on your face if Zemo hadn’t caught you.

“Are you alright?” he asked hurriedly, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he supported you, before standing you back onto your feet. You nodded, and he glanced over your shoulder as he noticed a few men looking down the alley. “Forgive me.”

You were about to ask what he was talking about, but then Zemo abruptly grabbed you by the backs of your thighs and lifted you up, pinned you against the wall behind you, and kissed you.

The men at the end of the alleyway muttered something about “freaks who do it in public,” then their footsteps faded as they walked off, clearly thinking the two of you were some overly horny couple, not two of the people with an insane bounty on their heads. But you were barely paying them any attention, a bit preoccupied with the fact that Zemo was fucking kissing you, and much to your chagrin, you really fucking liked it.

Once there were no more voices and no more footsteps, Zemo broke the kiss and sat you down. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, before you heard more gunshots, and you broke into a run in the direction Bucky and Sam had gone, desperate to find your friends, and no time to process what the hell just happened.

As soon as you caught up with them, the two bounty hunters nearby were shot dead, and the four of you turned to see Sharon Carter emerging from the shadows.

An hour later, you found yourself in her swanky home in High Town, in a change of clothes, since the brick wall Zemo had held you up against ripped the back of your silk dress. You lied to Sam and Bucky, saying that it happened because you fell while running in your heels, and thankfully, they believed you. Sharon commanded the four of you to lay low and enjoy the party, which Sam and Bucky left her living room to go do, entrusting you with ‘Zemo watch.’

It seemed as though he was merely nursing his brandy in lieu of abandoning it for the party prior to finishing it off, but his eyes were on you most of the time. You didn't necessarily believe he could be plotting to overpower you and run off, but there is always that possibility, so you delved into his mind to check.

Expecting to find thoughts of strategy about how to defeat the super soldiers or travel plans, or even plots to escape you, Bucky, and Sam, you were astounded to find nothing but thoughts of you.

The way it felt to kiss you in that alleyway, and how he had monetarily debated just staying there, having his way with you against the brick wall before Sam and Bucky could locate you. The dress from the bar, and how it rested on your thighs, revealing just enough to have his mouth watering without being revealing to the point of immodesty. The way your necklace currently rested against your bare collarbone, and how desperately he craved to litter the area with love bites. The delicate skin of your throat, thinking of how it would look with his hand wrapped around it, just enough to cut off a bit of air but not enough harm you. How alluring your voice is, and how much he'd like to know what it would sound like to hear you scream his name. The softness and warmness of your skin when he had his arm around you in the bar, and when he held your hand as you fled the scene, and he wondered how soft and warm you were elsewhere.

"Your thoughts are filthy."

He bristled immediately, sitting straighter in his seat and eyes going slightly wide, either forgetting you can read minds or not realizing you'd be doing it right then. It only took a moment for him to regain his composure, before he took one long, last drink of his brandy and set the glass on the table in front of him. He turned his whole body to the side to face you, as you sat on the opposite end of the couch, wearing a small, somewhat mischievous smile.

"I suppose there is no sense in denying it, is there?"

"What game are you playing, Zemo?" you snapped. He was rattling you. As much as you hated to admit it, he was. For the entirety of the time you'd been around him, this wanted criminal had been flustering you, and goddammit it, you wanted to know if it was accidental, or for nefarious purposes. He could be using it as a tactic to throw you off your game, so that he could get away when it was just the two of you – like right now.

"There is no game, Liebling," he stated softly and sincerely, sensing your discomfort. Slowly, he scooted closer to you on the couch, so that the arm he had laid across the back of it was now behind you, as he stared intently into your eyes. "Merely the natural response of a man who has been widowed and then locked in a prison cell, and therefore has not known the touch of a woman in many years, sitting next to a woman of absolute ethereal beauty."

You said nothing, merely stared at him, sizing him up to see if he was toying with you or telling the truth. Zemo sensed your lack of belief in his words.

"If you doubt my true intentions, you are welcome to delve as deep into my mind as you'd like to find the truth."

In all honesty, you'd have done that already if you weren't trying to avoid being even more flustered by his thoughts about you – but you couldn't tell him that. So, you did as he bade you, and searched his mind to find any shred of malevolence towards you, but you came out empty-handed. Zemo genuinely just wanted you, craved you, like a starved man sitting in front of an endless buffet. He watched you carefully as you came to this conclusion, and although you said nothing further, he knew that you had found what you needed to know.

"Just say the word, and I will never approach the topic again, as well as attempt to quiet my thoughts about you. But if there is any part of you... deep inside you," Zemo paused, eyes grazing you up and down purposefully, before continuing, "that has any interest in being with me... I will do anything to bring that to fruition."

The ball was in your court now. You could tell him to get bent and never speak to you like this again… or you could get your rocks off, and maybe even get something more in return.

"Such as?"

"Name it, Schätzchen. Anything you want. A car, a mansion, jewels – say it and it's yours, if you will be mine," Zemo proposed earnestly, licking his lips quickly as he looked at you, visibly thrilled that he was getting somewhere with you.

You weren't the type to accept gifts from men you barely know, but… this was Zemo. A man who had done a great many terrible things, which soothed your guilty conscience. So, you said the first thing that came to mind.

"A car," you blurted out, then explained, "Mine broke down a week ago, and it's beyond repair, so… a car."

"Tell me the make and model of your preference and I'll have it delivered to your home within a week's time," Zemo said calmly, then brushed a lock of hair away from your face, before allowing his fingers to trail delicately along your cheek and jawline. "Is that all, Kätzchen?"

"No. One more thing," you replied, then looked at him sternly. "You must agree to never speak of this to Bucky or Sam."

"You have my word," he assured you, smiling in amusement.

"Then I'm yours."

Zemo's smile faded slowly, and he merely stared at you for a split second, before cupping your face in his hands and pulled you into a searing kiss, full of ferocity and sheer desperation. It shouldn't have been this easy, to kiss a man who's done such terrible things – yet here you were, melting into his embrace, allowing him to pull you into his lap and straddle him, your hands resting on his shoulders and gripping the black fabric of his turtleneck. His hands laid flat against your back as he kissed you in this new position, slowly gliding down, down your sides and to your hips. He kissed you in a way that was feverish and fast and hungry, as his fingers dug into your skin, holding you firmly against him as if he were fearful that this was all a dream and you'd disappear at any moment. Upon taking a peek into his mind, you realized that was actually exactly what he was thinking. Additionally, he mentally spoke to you directly, somehow knowing you were reading his thoughts at that moment.

"Tell me if I do anything that you do not like, and know that you have absolute freedom to end this at any given moment."

You pulled away slightly to nod in confirmation that you received his message, before resuming the kiss. Mind hazy and instincts taking over, you found yourself tugging his bottom lip between your teeth, earning a low groan from Zemo. One of his hands darted upwards to grab a fistful of your hair, right against your scalp at the base of your neck, and he pulled on it harshly, causing you to let out a wonton moan. He then laid that hand flat against the back of your neck, holding your lips firmly against his as he kissed you with even more fervor, and the other vacated its position on your hip to slide slowly up your torso, until he began palming your beast through your shirt. You moaned softly against his lips, but not as loudly as a moment ago.

Zemo wanted more, needed more; he longed to hear you loud and desperate. So he delved that hand at your neck back into your hair, gripping it tightly once more, and used it to pull your head backwards a bit, so that he could have better access to your neck. The action itself, and the tightness of his grip, earned an embarrassingly loud moan to escape your lips, and you felt him smile against your skin. He moved his hand to the middle of your back, supporting you as you leaned back a bit to grant him better access. As he littered your neck and décolletage with kisses, you felt him pull the neckline of your blouse down a little, then felt the sharp pain of a bite on your chest, above your breast. When you looked at him with narrowed eyes, he wore a cocky little grin.

"You should not be surprised, Liebling. I know you saw that I've been wanting to do that all day when you read my mind," he noted. "Wear a high neckline tomorrow, it will be fine."

Before you could respond, Zemo pulled you flush against his chest with that hand behind your back, and into another heated kiss. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and without thinking, you ground your hips down on the bulge resting against your core beneath your skirt. He groaned, both hands flying to your hips to push them down again, guiding them as you repeated the action. It only took a minute or two of this before Zemo had enough, abruptly grabbing you by the throat and throwing you down onto the couch beside him. He then loomed over you, one hand propping himself up and the other applying slight pressure to your throat, gazing at you with admiration in those searing eyes, pupils blown wide from lust. You looked right back at him, pupils undoubtedly dilated as well, eyes half-lidded, panting a little, and hair a bit of a mess.

"You are an absolute vision," Zemo praised softly, to which you smiled, then he released his grip on your neck to lean down and kiss you again. That only lasted a moment, before he broke the kiss to pull your blouse up and over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side. Your bra joined it shortly after, then he moved to your skirt, fussing with the zipper for a moment, but it seemed to be caught on something, as it wouldn't budge. Before you could interject and state that you'd get the zipper yourself, Zemo ripped the seam apart with his hands, before tearing the article from your body and tossing it like he had with the blouse. A gasp escaped you, but you had no time to think much about his actions, before he was pulling off your panties and bra as well, dropping them somewhere beside the couch.

He was then looming over you again, kissing you breathless as he rested on one elbow while the other hand toyed with your nipple, his knee coming up to rest between your legs as he laid between your body and the back of the couch. You tangled your fingers in Zemo's hair, moaning against his lips as you sought friction against his leg. He smiled softly against your lips, before your hands wandered, finding the hem of his shirt and tugging it off of him. You had just managed to get his belt off before his hand left your breast, trailing downwards across your torso as he moved his knee further away from you, before delving between your hips and expertly locating your clit.

No longer capable of focusing on ridding Zemo of his clothes, your hands gripped his shoulders, and he hissed deliciously as your nails dug into his skin when he began rubbing small, methodical circles on your clit. Small moans fell from your lips as he watched the way your mouth hung open slightly, face relaxed and eyes closed as you enjoyed his work. But again, he wanted more, needed more. Still observing you, he delved his middle and ring fingers into your core, causing you to let out a loud gasp that faded into a long, low moan. Zemo smiled to himself. That was the reaction he was dying for.

He kissed you senseless, drinking in your moans and gasps of pleasure like wine, his free hand cradling the back of your head as your arms wrapped around his neck. It didn't take Zemo long to find that sweet spot, deep inside you – as he'd subtly alluded to earlier – that longed for his attention the most.

You couldn't help but moan loudly and cry out, "Fuck! Baron!" Zemo growled low in your ear, clearly a fan of your usage of his title as he picked up the pace, fucking you with his fingers with expert precision and speed, sending you hurtling over the edge with a string of curses in both Sokovian and English. By the time he removed his fingers from you and stood, you were seeing stars, breathing heavily as you laid flat against the couch. When your dazed gaze found him, he was naked from the waist down, and was just finishing rolling a condom over his length. You had no idea where he got it from, but you were way beyond giving a shit at this point. Zemo then rejoined you on the couch, roughly spreading your legs apart as he kneeled between them, looking at you with a primal, deep hunger in his eyes.

"You are certain that you want this?"

"Yes, please – fuck," you cut yourself off as he began rubbing your clit again.

"Yes please, what?" His voice was low, teasing, as he continued his work below. "I want to hear you say it again, Kätzchen."

"Yes, please, Baron."

"Good girl."

Zemo took your leg and rested your calf on his shoulder, before easing himself into you, agonizingly slow. You watched through half-lidded eyes as his brows furrowed together, his jaw went slack, and his eyes squeezed shut as he bottomed out. He was silent, but you very much preferred it when he was a bit vocal. So, you flexed your muscles down there, and he groaned, letting his forehead fall against your shoulder.

"Do not do that if you want this to last long," Zemo suggested through clenched teeth. You smiled to yourself, then said the magic word that you knew would get him going.

"Yes, Baron."

He growled again, right in your ear, then sat more upright to begin a harsh, quick pace of thrusting. His hips collided with your body each time, causing a delicious sort of pain, and he leaned down to lock you in a messy, deep kiss.

A few minutes later, Zemo moved your other calf to his shoulder as well, and the new position enabled him to get delectably deep inside you. You raked your nails down his chest, watching as a shudder ran down his spine, all the while releasing small, breathless moans and whimpers. When he opened his eyes again to gaze down at you, he licked his lips before delving both hands under your head and into your hair, and forcefully gripped two fitfuls of it at the base of your skull. The moan that tore its way from your throat was animalistic, as your nails dug into his forearms as you desperately gripped them from their positions on either side of your head. Just then, he hit a spot deep inside of you, and that familiar, tight coil in your lower belly began to form.

"Fuck! Right there, Baron, please, right there!"

"As you wish, Schätzchen."

Zemo began to thrust even faster, careful to maintain the same angle as he released his grip on your hair and leaned up a bit, so that he could resume rubbing your clit. Moans began to fall from your lips practically endlessly, and somehow, you still needed more. More, more, more. You took his free hand and laid it on your neck, and he instinctively wrapped his fingers around your throat, careful to apply pressure on the sides but not the front, as to avoid harming you. When he opened his eyes once again and looked down at you, he couldn't stop the moan that escaped him.

"You will be the death of me, mein Engel," Zemo whispered, seemingly more to himself. All you could do was moan in response.

"Baron, I'm going to – fuck – I'm —"

"Yes, come for me, Kätzchen. I want to feel you."

That was all the encouragement it took. Well, that plus how perfectly he was rubbing your bundle of nerves, and how his pace nor angle had faltered once since you had requested exactly that. You came undone again, legs shaking as your nails clawed at his shoulder blades, earning a series of groans from him. As you came down from your high, Zemo's hips began to falter, enthralled by the waterfall you had become, soaking the base of his cock as your walls squeezed around him. His hand at your wet heat abruptly moved to grip your hip, at the same moment his hand around your throat clutched at your hair again, and he met his end with a loud, gruff moan as he spoke a mantra of nonsensical praises and your name.

Zemo rested on his arms on either side of your head, and he let your legs fall to the sides of him, breathing hard against your neck as he occasionally peppered kisses there. He remained inside you for a few moments, savoring the feeling, before you chose to have a bit of extra fun by flexing your lower muscles and squeezing yourself around him again. With a sharp intake of breath, he pulled out of you, shooting you a glare.

In Sokovian, he murmured, "You are a naughty little thing."

"You adore it."

"That I do," Zemo conceded, then stood and walked off to the restroom. You heard the tap run, and a few moments later, he returned with a glass of water for you, sitting beside your feet on the couch and resting his heels on the coffee table. He was exceptionally handsome like this; still catching his breath, sweat glistening on his forehead and chest, a content look upon his face. You spent a minute or two admiring him, before he looked over to you, and a smile blossomed on his lips.

"I cannot thank you enough for that. I must admit, I spent countless nights alone in my cell, dreaming about getting to touch a woman like that again. Especially considering the fall of our country, I never could have imagined I would be lucky enough to lay with a stunning, intelligent Sokovian woman."

"In the spirit of confessions, it's been a while for me, too. My last boyfriend was about two years ago. And I'm not the one-night-stand type. So, do with that what you will," you stated, earning a small chuckle from Zemo. You sat up so that you were sitting beside him, instead of laying down, as you continued. "I fantasized about it a lot myself, but I never even dared to think my next time would be as good as this was."

Zemo smiled, a mix of pride and joy, then his smile softened as he leaned toward you, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. "This doesn't have to be our last time, you know. I would be honored to have you as often as you'd allow me to. And I assure you, I would make it worth your while. I will give you whichever vehicles your heart desires, more jewelry than you know what to do with, take you to the most beautiful places in the world, dine at only the finest restaurants – and above all, treat you like my queen. Take care of me, and I will take care of you, Liebling."

You allowed your curiosity to get the better of you, as usual when you feared that someone was lying to you. You searched his mind for any fraction of false pretenses, but there were none. The man simply found you intoxicating, and would do whatever it takes to keep drinking you in.

The arrangement wouldn't exactly be an easy one, nor would it be all that wise – nor morally correct, in all honesty. But he was undeniably sexy, and the danger and reprehensibility of it all made it that much more alluring. And besides all that – the way his power and wealth turned you on, how good he was capable of making you feel – most Sokovians were dead, and you missed home. Getting to speak your native tongue with him, chat about your country – it made you feel at home with him.

But you wouldn't give Zemo the satisfaction of agreeing to him that quickly.

“We'll see.”

—————

Part Two

[sideofcalimary]

Save her [Unfinished Story Arc]

Inspired by @Inkalight SpiderDeku art

So technically this is her fault

Totally go check out her work ---------

Deadpool runs through the forest, glancing down at the small device in his hand every now and then, taking turns left and right trying to get somewhere He's panicked

His partner hasn't responded in a while

Was he too late?

Deadpool yells at his device: Come on come ON! ANSWER ME DAMN IT!

The forest was getting thicker the deeper he got but the signal was getting close too The little green dot on his device was slowing down. It was still going towards him, but no longer in the fast pace it was previously

Worry shot through his entire being

But he was close

Just a few trees or so away

Closer

Closer

Closer

Thump

Deadpool stumbled to a halt

There, just below low hanging branches and vines, kneeled his hero partner in the darkness of the forest

His suit torn and tattered, caked in blood and dirt

His breathing seemed shallow and tired

His mask partly torn revealing a pained eye

Spiderman: D-dead.. pool...

His voice was rough and dry, as if he swallowed sandpaper. The visible black curls of his hair were soaked in blood

Was it his own or someone else's? Deadpool didn't know which was worse

Deadpool: Fuck fuck fuck

The mercenary rushed to his side Deadpool catches Spiderman before he completely fell forward on his face, not hesitating to pull the hero in his arms and stand up

He wanted to ask what happened but time wasn't on their side

Sounds of footsteps were faintly rushing to them, familiar sounds of gunfire followed Deadpool let his body move and rushed back to where he came from, his partner held tightly in his arms

He tries to ignore Spiderman's sounds of pain, he didn't have time to be slow or gentle

He had to get them out of there Whoever Spiderman got himself involved with, he would make sure the paid

For now, one thing was on his mind

He had to save his hero

• • • Denki: Holy hell dude...

Eijiro: We need to get him to the hospital

Katsuki runs his hand through his hair and looks away: We can't. They'll reveal his secret identity to the world

Denki: and that's worse than him dying on our couch?!

Katsuki snapped: HE'S NOT DYING! Eijiro hardens his skin and stands between his friends: Denki is right, we can't just bandage his wounds and stop his bleeding. He might have broken bones or wounds we can't exactly fix without real medical help

Denki: I'm right?

Eijiro: dude

Denki: This is a rare moment Katsuki: I swear to Kami, I will shove power cords up your ass and hook you up to a powerplant

Mina: Ladies Ladies, you're both bitches. Now quiet down, I have to clean his head

Mina shushes them, having been the one to bandage and clean Spiderman when they got there Katsuki: Fine. When you're done put my mask on him. Dunce Face, Shitty Hair, you're coming with me

Katsuki toasses Mina his mask

Mina: where are YOU guys going?

Katsuki: gonna murder the fuckers who did this to him and figure out what got him in this shit in the first place Mina gets up: Don't you wanna at least see who he is?

Denki: yeah, this is your shot to finally know his secret identity

Katsuki: Fuck no. I'm not gonna break his trust and neither will you two. I'd rather he tell me himself than have to Scooby-Doo reveal him Eijiro: Kats is right, but I don't think we should go after these guys either

Katsuki glares at Eijiro who holds his arms up in defense

Eijiro: I don't know him the way you do, but would Spiderman want you to get revenge for him..? To go out there and kill again? Katsuki's eye twitches at that. He knew the answer fairly well. He could already imagine Spiderman scolding him for even thinking about killing after promising he'd use his skills for good

He hates it

He was angry

But he knew not to act on it

Not now at least Through grint teeth, he spoke: Fine... But only Pinky gets to see. I don't trust either of you to keep your mouths shut on his identity and Racoon Eyes owe me

Mina: Yeah I don't remember that

Katsuki: remember your Ex?

Mina: I remember why I forgot. I'll keep my lips sealed Katsuki gives a jerky nod and grabs Denki's shirt, pulling him out the room

Eijiro turns to Mina and gives a lopsided smile: you okay?

Mina: oh please, this is nothing compared to the shit I have to do for you sometimes. Go make sure the bomb is defused. I'll handle bug control Eijiro beams, moving over and giving Mina a quick kiss on her curls before rushing after his two friends. He could already hear Denki begging for mercy

That left Mina alone with Spiderman

Mina sighs and takes some scissors: time to see what Kats' type is • • •

Katsuki: is he okay?

Mina: Relax BakuBabe. I JUST walked into the room

Katsuki: Answer the question BubbleGum. How is he?

Mina rolls her eyes and goes to the sink to wash her hands

Katsuki: Mina-

Eijiro puts his hand on Katsuki's shoulder: Bro, relax Katsuki: YOU RELAX

Denki: Alright, the fireworks are going off and we haven't even lit the fuse

Mina pouts at Eijiro: I thought I told you to defuse him?

Eijiro: I tried, but Denks keeps cutting the red wire

Katsuki: I AM NOT AN EXPLOSIVE YOU CAN CONTAIN! Denki: We know, we wish you were

Before Katsuki could tackle Denki into an impromptu wrestling match, Mina grabs his face and pulls him down to her level. She squishes his face hard, making Katsuki look like a pissed off duck

Mina: He. Is. Fine Katsuki deflates at the news: Wirry? (really?)

Mina: Yes, wirry. And he's cute too. Like, personality aside, I can see why you like him

Katsuki frowns which makes him look more ridiculous between Mina's pink hands

Mina: I mean, he's got this cute dork vibe going on Eijiro pouts and goes behind Mina, gently nudging his face against her shoulder

Mina sighs and let's go of Katsuki's face in favor of petting Eijiro's rough spikes: not my type though I prefer big strong manly himbos

Denki fake gags: If Ei had a tail it would be wagging Mina: He actually does-

Eijiro covers her mouth with a red face while Katsuki quickly changes the subject: Enough about your shitty preferences. I don't care what he looks like, just tell me his condition

Mina licks Eijiro's hand to get him to let go Eijiro whines and wipes his hand on Mina's sleeve as she speaks: He doesn't have any major head injuries, looks like he took care in protecting his head so the blood in his hair was DEFINITELY not his... At least not all of it

Denki: Sick

Katsuki wacks his head Mina: He has a bullet wound on his arm that broke through some bones. A lot of cuts and bruises mostly. Looked like whoever he fought was using a lot of blades and was tossing him around like a rag doll

Denki: so he fought a giant blender

Katsuki wacks him again Denki whines and rubs the back of his head: I'm just saying, it's possible!

Katsuki chooses to ignore him: Did you put my mask on him?

Mina: Yeah, he's still asleep on the couch but we can't keep him here all night

Eijiro: Yeah, Rody doesn't let people stay in when he closes Katsuki: Well he can go fuck himself!

Rody: fuck me yourself if you're so desperate

Rody rolls his eyes, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. Pino on his shoulder posing the same way

Rody: Listen DP, as much as I'd love to help, you know the rules Eijiro: Can't you make an exception?

Rody: Not this time. I can't risk my place getting snooped out and I don't trust Spiderman to not spill the beans on this. He already doesn't like my business and has this... High moral code. I can't get shut down Katsuki: He wouldn't rat you out to the cops

Rody: Probably, but I don't need him trying to convince me and the rest of the mercs to 'side with good.'

Katsuki glares at Rody but he holds his hand up

Rody: I'm not doing this to be selfish, believe it or not Katsuki: Sounds pretty fucking selfish to me

Rody sighs and pushes himself off the doorframe: What do you think is gonna happen when Mr. Hero starts preaching about heroism to a bar full of hitmen and mercenaries, hm? What happens when he tells them 'killing is wrong!'? Everyone stays quiet as Katsuki grips his hands into fists: He's not a goddamn priest who reads off scripts from an old book

Rody: and we're not just mindless killers who take hitman jobs for fun. This is a livelihood my people have, Kats. You know this. You're one of us Rody glances at the other three in the room: So are you three. I can't keep making exceptions for you guys, especially not for spiderman. I'm sorry

Katsuki takes a breath, calming his nerves. He didn't wanna argue. Not now. Not when he was already tense and full of worry Katsuki: Fine

/there's only one other option.../

• • • Spiderman slowly opens his eyes, his vision is blurry as he stares at a familiar ceiling fan: ugh...

Katsuki: you're finally up

Spiderman tries to blink away the blurriness but couldn't seem to. He could feel the ache in his bones as he tries to twitch awake: Ka-Ka- Katsuki: Don't fucking move. You broke your arm and basically look like a mummy right now

Spiderman: What.. what happened..?

Katsuki tsks and places down some water on his coffee table: Hell if I know. Deadpool came barging through my balcony holding you and told me to watch after you while he did badass hero shit

Spiderman blinks and sighs: sounds like something he'd say... WAIT-

Spiderman quickly sits up and immediately regrets it, wincing as he holds his side. Katsuki quickly supports his back and lays him back down Katsuki: Did you not hear me say "Don't fucking move?!?"

Spiderman groans: I-I have to go! There's - there's someone I need to save-

Katsuki: not when you're in this condition you're not! You don't have have your web shooters with you, how the fuck are you gonna do anything?! Spiderman looks at Katsuki. It was weird to see Deadpool's mask on him, forming a determined stare: I have to try... Please.. she needs me.. she needs someone

Katsuki frowns his brow confused: Who...?

Spiderman grips onto his bandages with his good arm: A.. a little girl Katsuki grabs his hand to stop him

Spiderman grips his hand back tightly: She's being used. They're torturing her. I-I have to stop them. I have to. I have to get help-

Katsuki: Hey. HEY. STOP! Spiderman, stop, look at me!

Katsuki grabs onto his face and holds his till Spiderman looked fearful behind the mask. His vision was a blur of yellow and red

Katsuki: Give yourself time to heal and get prepared then go after them when you're BETTER. You have me- Deadpool, remember? He can help you. You're not doing this alone. Don't do this alone Spiderman was tired, leaning his face against Katsuki's hands, conflicted on the decision: ... what if I'm too late

Katsuki: you won't be. Look just- just wait until you're healed a bit then contact Deadpool about this. The two of you can deal with it together, alright? Spiderman: what if I take too long?

Katsuki: you won't be. This girl needs you at your best. If you're still beaten up, I don't think she'd want to see her hero die trying to save her

Spiderman stays quiet and looks down at his bandaged body, unsure Katsuki sighs: do you trust me?

Spiderman: what?

Katsuki: do you trust me?

Spiderman didn't hesitate: more then you'd believe

Katsuki: then trust me and get some rest. I'll wake you up when Deadpool comes over or something. For now you should focus on getting better Katsuki lets go of his face and watches as Spiderman lays back and stares at the cieling

Spiderman: Okay... I'm sorry for-

Katsuki: Shut up. Apologize when you can sit up properly

Spiderman gives a small smile behind his mask: I will... Katsuki Katsuki gets up and waves him off, trying to ignore the pounding in his chest hearing his name from his hero's lips

/Not the time. Not now. He needs Deadpool right now, not you/ -

-

-

Shoto: Deadpool?

Spiderman: No Sho-

Shoto quickly points a taser at the hero and closes his laptop, face as blank as someone's Tinder DMs: If you're here because you know who I am, I can assure you that killing me won't bring you closer to Spiderman

Spiderman: ... Wha- Shoto: Yes I AM his guy in the chair. But we have no romantic connection whatsoever. So if you're here to 'thin the competition' then you're out of luck, I'm already skinny

Spiderman stands there confused for a second before pulling off Deadpool's masks from his head Shoto drops his taser seeing his friend's bruised and bandaged face: Izuku?

Izuku: Sho-

Shoto: you're Deadpool?

Izuku:... How are you still top of your class?

• • • Shoto: Wow...

Izuku: I know...

Shoto: .. so you're NOT living a triple life?

Izuku: I just told you I found a super powered Yakuza boss using a mutant girl as a weapon and THAT'S what you took from it?!?

Shoto: ....

Izuku: You've seen me and DP together! Shoto stares at Izuku, hand hand behind his back secretly crossing something out on his desk: So you need me to gather information on them?

Izuku: No, Deadpool already has that covered. I need a new suit and the EletroWebs

Shoto: but we're still in the prototype phase Izuku: what better way to test them out then now? I'll bring an extra web slinger but I NEED something more powerful to take them down

Shoto glances at his closet then back at Izuku: Then I suppose if we're testing the webs, why not fry too birds with one egg? Izuku: ...what...

Shoto ignores Izuku's confusion and goes to his closet, twisting the handle revealing a biometric system and scans his thumb onto it: The hover boots. I've redesigned it a bit to match your new suit better

Izuku: new.. suit? Shoto: It's a prototype design I've been working on. It's supposed to be made from my father's nano tech but I haven't had the chance to steal his research yet

Izuku: yet?!?

Shoto: Stop asking questions and put this on. I've already installed a new communicator to it Shoto tosses a darker green spider suit at Izuku who catches it with one arm, staring down at the red spider logo on the spandex and glances up at his friend

Izuku: When did you have time to make this...? Shoto: I've been dedicating my time to improving your suit and gear using my father's technology. You've been busy flirting with Deadpool and going on dates with Bakugo to hang out so I've been working

Izuku: Oh.. Shoto-Kun I-I didn't mean to leave you behind! Shoto: No it's fine! This has been the most fun I've had in years since my brother disappeared

Shoto said in a deadpanned face. Izuku knew he was being serious, but he still felt bad for neglecting him

Shoto: Besides. Hitoshi has been keeping me company and we've grown a bond Now Izuku was worried about what happened between his friends that made them grow closer together...

Hopefully Shinso didn't teach him about Recardo

Shaking his head, Izuku heads to the bathroom: I'll make it up to you after we save that girl. I promise

Shoto: cold soba? Izuku: Colder then your stare

Izuku closes the door with a small smile

He felt so blessed to have a friend like Shoto

He starts to change then looks down at his suit and notices how tight it was around his legs

Somehow he felt less blessed

• • • Katsuki: What's the status on the Bastard?

Denki tosses some chips in his mouth before speaking, spitting Dorito bits with each word: They call him Overhaul but I've managed to dig up his real name. Chisaki Kai. He's the kingpin of 'The Plague Doctors' which is a real dumb name Katsuki growler and straps himself up with weapons: Give me something more useful here, Dunce face

Denki: Alright alright. From what I found, he just recently became the big boss of the Todou Gang but people seem to follow his every will. Spidey said most of the people he fought wore plague doctor outfits, right? Well get this, apparently there's rumors about Overhaul owning hospitals and orphanages for 'the special'

Eijiro adjusts his head armor: Like, people with disabilities?

Denki: More like... Our abilities 

Mina nearly drops her dagger: ... He's funding for mutants..?

Denki: That's what I found at least. There's no concrete evidence of it but there also aren't any records of patients or kids in those places. So either these places are empty or- 

Eijiro: the bastard is experimenting on mutants

Eijiro's fists clenched, his skin hardening defensively at the news. He tried to keep his composure, his red eyes glancing towards Mina who stares down at her pink hands with wide blank eyes

Mina: ... Is he making more..? Denki hesitated to answer

Mina pushed and seemed panicked by the silence: Denki. Is he making mutants?!

Denki glances at his computer, his fingers fighting with the little toy he had in one hand while the other taps at his desk: .. more like the opposite... Denki sighs and taps his keyboard, on screen showed a massive star-shaped crater where one of the hospitals used to stand

The two stare at it confused

Denki hesitated to speak: .. He's getting rid of mutants by.. I-I don't know but he's making them disappear Katsuki straps on a new pair of gloves. His eyes hardened as he felt hot blooded rage fill him

The same rage that started this career

Katsuki grabs his spare mask and turns to his friends: Then let's make sure the doctor gets a taste of his own medicine-

-

-

-

Two days was all it took for Spiderman to be back in action. It was hard to hide a broken arm from his mother, having to wear two giant sweaters two days in a row.

That wasn't even taking into account the emotional stress he was in remembering what he saw... That poor little girl. If only he had enough web fluid. If only he was a little faster. If only he was a better hero

He would've been able to saver her from that.. monster

Shoto: Spidey? Spidey do you copy?

Spiderman: huh? Oh yeah yeah I copy. Am I close to the meet up point? He swings to the next building over, one hand on a wall peering at the city below

Shoto: Take a right at 5th street. They should be there. You sure you got everything you need?

Spiderman: Thanks Frosty. I'm fully equipped. Even have extra quick change cartages Shoto: Good. And Izuku?

Spiderman shoots his web at a billboard: Yeah?

Shoto: Be careful

Spiderman smiles behind his mask: Since when have I been anything but reckless?

• • • Mystique: You sure you wanna use those? Denks hasn't tested them out properly and I REALLY don't wanna watch you literally explode again

Deadpool: fucking relax. We're dealing with some real fucking high level boss here. I'm not about to be a pussy who stores up all my good shit for 'an important battle' and end up never actually using them

Colossus: I don't like you calling me out like this

Deadpool: Then stop being a pussy

Denki's voice chimes into their communicators: Ladies Ladies, you're both very ugly. Let's let Blasty use his toys. I mean this is a real high end villain we're dealing with

Mystique: Which means we should really tackle this more stealth like and less Deadpool like

Deadpool: Oi!

Spiderman: She's right

The three turn their heads towards the voice, watching a darker shade of green land before them The suit was new. More sleek and compact. The once bright green and red were replaced with a deeper bluish green and blacks

Spiderman, approaches them, his suit tightly hugs his compact body better than his previous suit: We can't go in there guns blazing, there's probably A hundred of them, and that's only guessing from what I've seen

Denki's voice passes into their communicators: Almost 500 members from what I've got. The guy's loaded and has weapons coming out of his ass. No doubt everyone in their merry gang has at least a hand gun. Shoto: how did you intercept my-

Denki: oh HI! You must be that Frosty guy DP's been jealo-

Deadpool: SHUT YOUR CHARGE PORT! I get it! We take them down from the dark but that doesn't mean we can't be prepared for when shit gets out of hand Colossus: then let's make sure it doesn't

The three mutant mercenaries turn to Spiderman.

Mystique spoke their collective thoughts: what's the plan, BuggaBoo?

• • •

Deadpool: what's the point in planning if NONE OF YOU FOLLOW IT!

Mystique: Don't yell at me! I'm feeling very vulnerable right now!

Deadpool: Hey! I'm the one with a missing leg and you don't see me complaining!

Colossus: That's because I'm carrying you! Deadpool: I don't need your help!

Spiderman: Say that again after you have all four limbs

Deadpool: and who's fault is it that I don't?!

Yeah the plan didn't go as well as Spiderman wanted it to go

And the hero was to blame for it, jumping at the chance to save the little girl who was just within reach. Which lead to Colossus breaking off an iron door, Mystique unsuccessfully turning off the security system, and Deadpool having to single handedly fight a group of guards

All the while Spiderman had a nice lil chat with the lil girl in an attempt to get her to trust them and come with them willingly

Something about not wanting to scare her more

and being a hero that makes people feel safe and protected

Mystique: You know, this would've been easier if we just took her and ran

Deadpool: yeah, YA THINK?! Spiderman: Don't say that! You're scaring her!

Eijiro: To be fair, we are currently being chased

They were also being shot at too. Lucky for them, most of the gang members after them had the aim of a stormtrooper, and DP has been doing great shooting their knee caps to slow them down

The little girl whimpers, holding onto the hood Spiderman had given her, trying to block the sound as the hero held her protectively against his chest

Spiderman: Frosty, what's the statues?

Shoto: They have a complete lockdown. Charge is trying to hack the system to get you out but-

Denki: You guys are completely fucked. They're firewalls are thicker then DP's biceps and I need more time to get through. Frosty says more guards are closing in up ahead. I don't know if you guys are gonna make it Mystique: Do you have any goodnews?! I can't die like this! I haven't met Marshmello yet!

The little girl starts sobbing in panic: I-I'm so sorry! I'm sorry! I shouldn't have asked for help! I don't want you to die Mr. Hero!

Spiderman: No it's okay! It's okay, we'll make it out of here safe, I promise! We came here to save you and we intend on following through till the end

A figure in front of them stands tall and proud, stopping the heroes in their tracks. Dressed to the nines in a nice crisp black suit and plague doctor mask

Overhaul 

Overhaul: Then I suppose the end is now.

Spiderman holds the girl close. Everyone taking a defensive stance with Deadpool under Colossus' arm pointing a gun at the villain

Mystique brandishes her daggers, ready to strike: Your sense of fashion is horrible. Beaks are SO 17th century and it doesn't even match your suit

Overhaul didn't seem fazed and simply looks at the little girl: Eri, I don't like your new little friends. I told you these... monsters are bad influences on you

all of them went rigid

Eri shivers, gripping the hood: N-No but- Overhaul's tone turned dark: No buts young lady. Play time is over

Eri looked panicked by that statement, eyes wide and helpless: N-No..

Overhaul: It's time to say goodb-

A bullet wheezes past Overhaul's head. he managed to dodge it in time as Deadpool shot him again Deadpool: Enough with the dramatic crap! The author doesn't know how to do that shit so just shut it and die!

Deadpool continues to shoot with Mystique following his lead, her legs shifting to cheetah legs as she rushes at Overhaul with her daggers

Eri: WAIT DON'T- But it was already too late. In a second, Overhaul had Mystique by her throat, holding her up effortlessly. He pressed at her windpipe quick and tight, making her gasp for air. instead of air being restricted, it felt as though all the air in her lungs was being pulled out Colossus drops Deadpool and screams, rushing to save her: MYSTIQUE!

Eri: STOP!

But her warning came unheard, in a flash, the mighty metal man was kicked to the side. His body crashing and breaking the wall. The impact being so intense that it knocked him out Deadpool tries to get up and fight, having used up all his ammo and was trying to get to him with just one leg: YOU BASTARD!

Eri sobs, desperately pushing to get out of Spiderman's grasp: STOP! PLEASE! LET HER GO! DON'T HURT THEM! I'LL COME BACK! i'LL COME BACK! PLEASE! Spiderman didn't think, He simply puts Eri into Deadpool's arms and runs in

Deadpool: OI WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!

Eri begs, trying to push out of Deadpool's hold: NO! NO STOP! DON'T PLEASE!

Spiderman heard no such pleas, anger clouding his judgement as he slings his webs at the ceiling and goes in for a kick

And like before, he was held in a flash

Mystique dropped to the floor unconscious and Spiderman taking her place

Overhaul gripping Spiderman by his face and crushing his head and mask with his hand: I will be honest, I'm impressed you and your little group of monsters managed to get this far. But it ends here

Spiderman grips at the arm that held his face, fear spiking through his spine as he hears Deadpool's angry yells of pain and curses

The merc had been held down, Eri being taken from his arms and held harshly by one of the gang members.

Eri: UNCLE PLEASE! PLEASE STOP! NO MORE! I PROMISE NO MORE PLAYING! PLEASE LET THEM GO!

She cries desperately, pulling at the hand that held her arm while Deadpool continued to fight and struggle with the gang members Deadpool wasn't giving up, even resorting to biting at them through his mask: Get your nail ass hands off of me! I swear when my leg grows back, I'm gonna hunt you down and shove you back into your mother's vagina!

Overhaul gave a tsk of disappointment: I'm sorry Eri, but I can't let parasites like them live...

Spiderman winces as he feels his jaw being crushed: Y-You're... the parasite... and I have just the way to get rid of you

He shoots his webs at Overhaul's chest and with a click, activates his taser webs

Shoto: NO! Shoto's yell cut off

Electricity flowed through the webs and shocks Overhaul's body from his chest out, but with his grip still on Spiderman, the hero was a victim of his own attack

he didn't stop though

The two yell in pain as they were electrocuted Deadpool thrashes more harshly, trying to get his hero partner to stop his self sacrificial bullshit

But it was working

it was...

Overhaul powers through the shockwaves, glaring at Spiderman as he slams the hero's body onto the floor, cracking the concrete Eri: NO!

Overhaul powers through the shockwaves and reels back his arm

Eri: STOP!

Spiderman tries to increase the power of his webs, attempting to get his muscles to lock up, but Overhaul continues to power through it. Fury burning in his eyes: You're dead Eri felt immense panic in her system

With her eyes full of tears, she yells

"SPIDERMAN!"

Her scream shook the walls