#it's the one moment in the entire fifty minutes that seems to acknowledge the thing he spent the last episode focused on

[july-19th-club]

everybody in every post is reading helly/helena's crush on mark like it's a two way thing and i JUST dont see it. i saw a post suggesting mark took advantage of helly by having sex with helena. and we're not taking into account the fact that helena impersonated someone he trusts to have sex with him? one of these people is doing some dubcon stuff and it's not mark s

[drivingsideways]

On watching Pathaan

I don't want to talk about the film itself, which was a shock to my system- it's been several decades since I watched a Bollywood "masala" film, so I'd evidently missed the part where they've apparently forgotten almost entirely how to make those. The Bollywood masala films I grew up with weren't clever or technically fabulous or intellectually satisfying (though a few were all of those); that wasn't what you went to the theatre for. You went to feel twenty different emotions in the space of two hours and forty five minutes, and come out (literally) sweaty and fulfilled, with a earworm that wouldn't leave you for a month. Pathaan ostensibly belongs to that category of films except that it's not: it's a film that seems afraid of emotions, big or small; of dialogues with multi syllable words; of silences, of empty spaces; in the end it's a film that resists both thought and feeling, and provides only simulacrums of both.

And yet?

This entirely made-by-subcommittee exercise in soullessness is rescued by one fact: that it has Shahrukh Khan. You cannot, physically, make a movie without feeling once it has Shahrukh in it. You can try (and boy, does Sidharth Anand try ) but if you want to see how one man's personality entirely WARPS a narrative, just consider this: "Pathaan" never gets a "real" name onscreen. He's not Raj, Rahul or Kabir. He's just Pathaan: a man adopted by an entire village in Afghanistan; and adopted here, in his "homeland" as well; at this point in his career, everyone knows that Shahrukh is of Pathaan ancestry himself, so the movie is literally just calling him what someone probably once called his grandfather or great grandfather.

See: if this had been an Akshay or Ajay or even Salman movie, it would have been nothing but crass misogyny and militant nationalistic jingoism start to finish and it doesn't entirely escape either of those things even now; but the moment you have Shahrukh and those eyes of his which feel everything, and show everything, you just can't make that film. You'd be laughed out of the room. The movie had to literally acknowledge this when it has a character say of "Pathaan": the others are calculated, methodical, but Pathaan? He thinks with his heart.

Yeah, baby. That's blorbocore, ok?

You can't think your way to Shahrukh, you can't reason your way to him; you have to feel him. It's a binary state: you either do, or you don't. It has been that way since he burst into national consciousness with Fauji (1989) , big nosed and pimply-skinned; and it's that way now, when he's fifty seven and got six pack abs and smooth skin in post.

You have to look into his eyes and see the truth there: (love conquers everything)

Every tiny bit of truth gleaming gold in the muddy riverbed that is Pathaan comes not from the elements of the film itself, but from who Shahrukh Khan is, to us, in this moment of our history; who he has been to us in the last three decades; the man who made grannies and children laugh and cry; who set the standards that women of my generation would judge men against; our sona, our kintsugi, in a country that always seems to be on the verge of an irreparable fracture, and somehow, so far, hasn't given up. We shouldn't exist, yet here we are. We don't know where we'll be tomorrow, but that's for tomorrow.

I know there are many reasons for Pathaan's success, but one of them, surely ,is this: that we wanted him to win. Nobody in public life in the last three decades has embodied our ridiculous, laughable dreams and our spectacular failures as he has; he was-and is- our guy, hamara, the one who said watch me , I'm going to do the impossible, and it's going to be fun. And we did. I know people are watching Pathaan for all sorts of reasons, but one of them is surely this: that we loved him in the way we love ourselves, that we missed him in the way we miss ourselves; that when the chips were down, we came out to see this ageing superstar reinvent himself, do the impossible once more; that when we walked into that theatre, we were saying, go on, shona, do your thing, we're watching you, we're still here.

[somewhatgreatexpectations]

Rooftop Conversations (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader/ Yelena Belova)

Hi everyone!

This is a little shorter, but hope you all enjoy!

Summary: Reader shares a complicated history with Wanda. What will happen when Natasha introduces her sister to the problem? Who will reader end up with?

“Y/n.”

The closer you got the tower you called home; the more anxiety began to bubble in your chest. You had been away for over three months now and the entire time you were away Yelena refused to accept any of your calls. Admittedly they were few and far between due to circumstances, but the rare instances when you were able to get your hands on a phone, the other woman would always be miraculously busy.

You didn’t blame her.

Not in the slightest. Still, with every flimsy excuse Natasha gave you whenever you asked to speak to Yelena, you couldn’t help but feel that you were losing a part of yourself. Yelena was woven into your being and being shut off from her was something that was… entirely your fault.

It always made your heart ache though. To know she didn't want to even speak to you. To be away from her. There was so much about her you missed. Like her voice, her laugh, her jokes…

You just missed her.

“Y/n!” You jumped slightly and turned your attention to Steve who was glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Everything okay?”

All you managed was a weak nod as you focused back on the world around you. It was something you had to do often over the last few months. “Fine.” You replied, turning to face him as you awaited whatever it was he wanted to say.

“You can stop fidgeting with your necklace. We shut down all the bases. That’s all we could do.” He eventually said.

It wasn’t until Steve pointed it out that you realized that your fingers were fiddling absently with the charm that was hanging from the necklace Wanda had given you before you left. “What are you talking about?” you questioned, your brows furrowed in confusion.

Steve gestured broadly in your general area with one hand, while the other hand remained on the controls of the quinjet. “Whenever you get nervous you start fiddling with the necklace.” His hands returned to the controls as he shifted his attention. “Like a safety blanket.”

Grumbling absently, you folded your hands and looked out the window like a child who had just been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to. “Says the one with the pocket watch.”

In response, Steve shrugged. “Touché.”

You smirked and leaned back in your chair. “That’s what I thought." He chuckled. "Besides, I know we did all we could on the mission. I’ve come to terms with Dr. Wilkerson getting away, without his bases of support though he’s nothing.”

“Is that not what you were nervous about?” Steve prodded.

You shook your head. “I’m worried Yelena is going to hate me forever.” You admitted, your hand once again flying up to fiddle with the charm on your necklace.

Steve whistled lowly. “Still no word from her?” You shook your head again. “All you can do is be honest, kid. Earn her forgiveness. While you may have had good intentions, you lied. Even if it was to protect her. She reserves the right to be angry about it.”

“I know.” You replied. “I agree entirely, but… I don’t want to lose her. I can’t lose her. She-… She means… Everything to me.”

There was a moment of silence. “Do you love her?”

It had been months since you had allowed yourself time to think about the inner workings of your heart, yet the answer remained the same and came with no hesitation. “Yes.”

Steve nodded. “Does that mean you’re over Wanda then?”

The question took you by surprise and suddenly the pendant burned under your touch, like every nerve ending in your body went haywire. Overwhelmed with the thought of the two women that unabashedly occupied your heart. You feebly let your hand fall back to your lap.

Again, silence hovered in the air until, “No.” You replied softly, knowing it was the truth. Knowing you had no reason to lie to Steve.

Again, there was no hesitation in your answer.

“Sounds like you still have a lot to figure out then, kid.” Steve reached over and pat your shoulder sympathetically, “Between you and me though, I always thought you and Wanda would find your way back to each other. You’ve always been like magnets you two.” He admitted. “Natasha disagrees with me. She seems to think that you and Yelena are the most irritatingly perfect match. Her words not mine.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly. “You and Romanoff better not be placing bets on my love life again. You remember what happened last time, Rogers.” You warned with a point of your finger.

Steve chuckled and raised his hands innocently. “No bets were made. I’m just telling you the information.” He paused slightly. “Though I will say if it was a bet, I'd probably win since I did say Wanda would be the one to ask you out originally because you’d be too nervous to even get a word out. You won me fifty bucks that day.”

You punched his shoulder. “I can’t stand any of you.”

“That’s what families do.” You rolled your eyes and chose not to respond as you both distracted yourselves with your own tasks.

Just over an hour later Steve spoke again. “Hope you got enough thinking done because we’re touching down at the compound in five minutes.”

You sucked in a breath as the clouds opened up and the sharp points of the familiar building filled the sky before you.

Suddenly it was as if you blinked, and Steve was lowering the quinjet onto the waiting platform. “It’s good to be home.” You mumbled as you gathered what little you had and walked off the jet with Steve.

Before you could get far, you were met with an armful of someone else causing you to drop everything in your arms to catch the other person.

When the familiar floral scent invaded your senses, you quickly relaxed and held on tighter, relishing in the moment. The comfort that you hadn’t felt in months. “I missed you too, Wanda.” You whispered into her ear as you tucked your chin over her shoulder.

“You have no idea.” Wanda replied as you both held tightly to each other. You faintly heard Steve mumble how he would take your things inside for you, but his words barely registered as you familiarized yourself with the touch you hadn’t felt in months.

Suddenly, it felt like you were grounded again. Like you had been drifting freely and now, being back by her side you felt anchored again. Connected to the world in a way that mattered again.

Sure, you had managed to speak to Wanda briefly a handful of times over the course of your mission, but those sparse minutes were nothing compared to the sensation of actually being in her arms once again.

“It’s good to see you again.” You said leaning back slightly and taking in her every feature, every speck of color in her eyes. This was the longest you had gone without seeing her since the day you both met. “How did you know we were coming back? We wrapped up a few days early, I thought it would fly under the radar.”

Wanda smiled sheepishly back at you, and you couldn’t help the way your own lips pulled up endearingly at the sight. “I may have convinced Tony to program a new feature to FRIDAY that would let me know when you landed.”

A small chuckle of amusement slipped pat your lips. “Yeah? How did you manage that?”

“I may have pulled the Stark missile card.” Wanda answered with a small shrug.

“Didn’t know you couldn’t be so devious, Maximoff.” You teased as Wanda playfully dusted the invisible dirt off her shoulders.

That was when another voice interrupted the moment. “Really? You didn’t?” You turned your head to find the source of the interruption, though from the voice you knew exactly who it was. “I’ve known for a while now.”

Wanda pulled away from you and looked away, rubbing her own arm uncomfortably. “Nat,” You warned. “I just got back; can we not fight first thing?”

Natasha looked between you and Wanda for another moment as if she was contemplating her choices before opening her arms in silent invitation. “Fine, I’ll play nice. Sorry Maximoff.” Wanda nodded in acknowledgment. You suspected she was still terrified of the other woman.

You glanced at Wanda to be sure she was okay before walking over to your best friend and embracing her just as tightly, finding comfort in her embrace. Comfort in knowing that they were all okay while you were gone. That was all you could have wanted. You missed this. All of it.

Regardless of how chaotic it could be at times.

“I assume you didn’t manage to play nice while I was gone. No wonder I stayed away so long.” You said playfully as Natasha pinched you side. You swatted her hand and pulled away in protest. “Is this how you show how much you miss me?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “Miss you being an idiot? Sure.” She nudged you playfully. “It’ll be nice to have you back though, the compound hasn’t felt the same without you.”

“It really hasn’t.” Wanda agreed, wincing when she saw the blank look Natasha gave her.

You shook your head, “Nothing has changed.” You lightly rested your forehead on Natasha’s, so she could focus on you, so she could hear the sincerity of your next words. “I did miss you, you know? No need to be snappy.”

Natasha finally cracked a smile. “I know, I missed you too.” She lightly nudged your nose with her own before pulling away and ruffling your hair.

You smiled back at her but couldn’t help but look over Natasha’s shoulder a moment later. If Natasha knew you were back, then it was only safe to assume that… “Is- Is Yelena in her room?”

Amusement began shining in Natasha’s eyes. “Couldn’t even go ten minutes without asking about her, could you?” Heat quickly rushed into your cheeks. “She’s on a mission with Clint, should be back later today. Just light recon about a minor disturbance a few cities over.”

“Surprised you let her go without you.” You mumbled, already anticipating the moment of Yelena's return, mentally preparing all the ways you could earn her forgiveness.

“Tony had me on a separate assignment until this morning.” Natasha explained. “Besides, she’s with Barton, they’re both in good company. Safe.”

You nodded, if Natasha wasn’t worried then you had no reason to either. “I-” You lowered your voice. “Will you let me know when she’s back? Don’t tell her I’m here until I get a chance to talk to her, please, I don’t want her to avoid me anymore. I want to apologize. To make it up to her.”

Natasha analyzed you for a moment, analyzed your pleading tone before nodding. “I’ll give you this one shot because I know you only did what you did to protect her... I would have done the same.” She looked over your shoulder before looking back at you. “Now, I think I’ll head inside. We can catch up later. Don’t do anything that will make me have to kick your ass.” She warned.

Before you could utter a reply, your best friend had disappeared into the compound. “She actually talked to me once while you were gone. It was about a mission report, but still, she’s not ignoring me anymore.” You heard Wanda say from behind you.

You chuckled slightly as you turned to face her again, gesturing for her to follow behind you. “That’s actually great news to hear. I miss being able to spend time with both of you.” You leaned against the railing of the landing pad and let the wind traveling through the air be the only sound for a moment.

Wanda mimicked your position, her arms brushing yours, your own pinky shifting slightly to be in contact with hers.

It was like Steve said, there was something magnetic about you both and it felt even stronger after the separation. You couldn’t help but feel like you wanted to be closer. Your free hand raised to fidget with the charm on the necklace nervously.

“Still wearing the necklace, I see.” Wanda noted, her eyes shining happily in the light of day.

A faint blush quickly spread over your cheeks, and you managed a weak nod, your hand once again falling from the charm. “Steve says it’s my safety blanket.”

Wanda’s smile widened. “I didn’t know if you’d even use it since you had given it back to me after we broke up.”

You shrugged halfheartedly. “We’re past that. It represents more now. It represents you.” The sound of Wanda’s breath hitching caught your attention and you couldn’t help but feel your heart hammer in your chest. You just hoped she would change the subject, the vulnerability felt all too much in that moment. "It was nice to have on the mission."

“How did the mission go? I assume well since both you and Steve are back in one piece.” Wanda eventually asked, breaking the charged silence much to your relief. She always was good at reading your wants.

You nodded faintly, eagerly responding to the change of topic. “It did. We shut down every base we set out to, which was all of them.” You could see the happy smile form on Wanda’s lips, and you continued. “We did everything we set out to do except catch Dr. Wilkerson.”

Wanda’s smile fell almost immediately. She knew Dr. Wilkerson was your greatest enemy, your greatest fear. “Are you okay?” As the last word fell from her lips, her pinky moved to rest over yours, as if she herself wanted to be closer. To comfort you.

In response you turned you hand over in silent invitation and Wanda accept the offer immediately, her fingers tangling naturally with your own. “I feel okay, Steve still thinks we can catch him. He won’t get too far… I know he wants to take me back.” Wanda’s fingers tightened against yours. “Don’t worry, without the bases, without his minions? He’s nothing. Powerless. It’s only a matter of time.”

“The day he tries to come after you will be his last.” Wanda said seriously, her eyes darkening at the mere thought. “He won’t hurt you again, Y/n.”

You squeezed her hand, you knew Wanda would never hurt anyone, but her protective nature may change that. You’d never want to put her in that position. “I know, Wands. Don’t worry, Steve and I will find him. I’ll be okay.”

Her lips turned up faintly. “I know, I’ll be here to make sure of it. I’ll protect you, Y/n.”

“And even though you're infinitely stronger than me, I will protect you.” Wanda giggled slightly and you smiled back at her.

For a moment you both just stared at one another, allowing yourselves to get lost in the moment, moving closer and closer until you could feel her breath fan across your lips. You quickly looked away. Not ready to take that step. Not ready to ruin the leaps and bounds of progress you had made with her.

“Now fill me in on what I missed while I was gone.” You said in hopes of brushing over the minor traces of awkwardness that lingered in the air.

That was how both you and Wanda spent the remainder of the day, catching up on everything that had happened in the last few months, the hours slipping away with ease. There was only one thing that could ruin a relaxing evening like that.

And it was the sight of a smaller quinjet landing a few feet away. Your heart began hammering in your chest because the only other ones out on a mission were Yelena and Clint.

The woman that had occupied your mind so deeply was now just seconds away from you.

Except when the doors to the quinjet opened and Clint was the only one to step out, looking battered and bruised. Your stomach dropped at the sight.

You ran over, Wanda following closely behind. “Clint, where is Yelena?”

It was like Clint had just seen a ghost, his eyes widening even more than they already were. “Where is Natasha?”

“Whe-”

“WHERE IS NATASHA!” He yelled, his voice reverberating in the air around you.

Bile climbed up your throat in tandem with the panic you felt squeeze at your chest as the three of you ran into the compound in search of the other woman.

A few moments later you found her lounging in the main room of the compound with a notebook in her hands. Natasha immediately looked up when she heard the sound of panicked footsteps enter the room. “Clint, what-”

Clint quickly interrupted her, his panicked expression making you sick as you anticipated his next words.

“They took her. They took Yelena.”

And just like that, the world stopped.

And that's all folks! This chapter was more of a set-up for the unraveling of the remainder of this story which I now know will be 12 parts total. Sorry for no Yelena in this part. As always, thoughts and comments are always welcome!

Previous part: "Necessary Lies"

Masterlist: "Omen"

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[redhead-batgal]

Type: One-Shot

Pairing: Fem! and Vigilante! Reader x Jason Todd/ Red hood

Content: cursing, a claustrophobic reader, little bit of angst, some fluff and a bit of violence

Y/N: Your Name, L/N: Last Name, V/N: Vigilante Name

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Angry wasn’t a strong enough word to describe how you were feeling. Enraged, infuriated and pissed off came close but not close enough. This feeling was so strong and so vivid you could practically see it, hell you could probably taste it.

Unlike how most people describe anger, yours wasn’t a red. No it was white, an icy hot white that seemed to drench every single one of your senses. White was in the corners of your vision, It was clinging to every single sound, it was in each smell, sharp and clear. You could feel it dancing on your skin like electricity, it covered your tongue and coated your cheeks.

It was everywhere. 

And at the moment the icy white seemed to be invading your lungs and slowly turning into a dark black. Such a dark and dense color it began to be hard to breathe. You were in fact in the last place you’d like to be at the moment. Which just so happened to be locked in a closet. 

It didn’t help that you weren’t alone. While yes, being alone would mean you would have to go through it alone. Go through the feeling of all the walls closing in on you as the air gets thinner and your head begins to spin as your brain fries from panic, as your entire body began to spasm and you blacked out from hyperventilating. But at the moment you would have preferred to be alone rather then let him, see you go through all of that. It was bad enough he had seen you slip up the week before while on patrol. 

You had been patrolling with Batgirl and Black Bat, this was usually what you did. Since you didn’t get along very well with Robin, and Red Robin, well he scared you a tiny bit due to one patrol in which you saw him consume ungodly amounts of caffeine. You couldn’t keep up with Nightwing and were informed by Robin that Batman thought you talked to much. Batgirl and Black Bat seemed to to be the perfect fit.

However on the night in question you sort of wished they hadn’t been. It would have been easier to explain why you messed up and he wouldn’t be able to hold it over your head. It had been a dumb move but you were bored, patrol had been relatively quiet with Black Bat taking care of nearly any threat that appeared before you or Batgirl could even respond to the comm. Oracle had just informed the three of you to be on the look out for Penguin. He had been recently making many trips to a abandon warehouse. The three of you had been asked to make sure nothing happened. Of course you decided that divvying up assignments would be perfect so all three of you could see some action. Neither Black Bat nor Batgirl had argued so you each took an area to watch. 

It had nearly been an hour since you had spilt up. There was no action on your end. You had just begun to give up hope when

“I see Penguin,” Batgirl whispered into the comm.

Excitement coursed over your veins and you found yourself bouncing up and down, you nearly threw yourself across the rooftops so you could join Batgirl in the fight. However-

“It looks as if he’s just casing the place... somethings off. What do you say Black Bat? Is something off?” 

You didn’t want to hear that, Penguin was here, obviously something was happening more then likely it was illegal and you were itching to punch someone, Shaking your head you bounced from the balls of your feet to your heels. 

One click came over the comm from Black Bat. She, agreed with Batgirl, leaving you the odd man out... well odd woman.

“I think we should just wait for now,” Batgirl remarked.

Begrudgingly you agreed, at the moment nothing was happening and you knew that if you charged in fists swinging and weapons raised Batman would have your head. 

“Fine.” You sighed

It took you a minute but you moved yourself so that you could watch Penguin without “technically” leaving your post. Penguin stood a couple hundred feet from the door to the warehouse, surrounding him was close to twenty goons.  He appeared to be talking to them and looking at his watch, suddenly one of the goons stepped up to him and whispered in his ear. Penguin nodded and waved a hand. All of the goons including himself began to move into the warehouse. 

There were upsides and down sides to this. 

Downside number one: You couldn’t see them anymore

Downside number two: This could be a trap

However there were more upsides then down.

Upside number one: You got to move into the warehouse

Upside number two: More then likely this was some kind of deal going down and you would get to punch a dude in the face

Upside number three: You were finally gonna see some action. 

Lowering yourself into a crouch you quickly spoke into the comm.

“I’m gonna go in.” “V/N, don’t. Something about this doesn’t seem right.” 

“I’ll be fine, besides how else are we supposed to see what’s going on?” 

There wasn’t a reply, though your weren’t really paying attention close enough to notice. You had begun bounding your way towards an open window you had spotted earlier while scanning the perimeter of the building. You vaulted in through the window just barely making it; internally you thanked Nightwing for insisting upon doing acrobatics for part of your training and made a mental note to ask him for some more lessons later. 

The warehouse wasn’t completely empty, it had two levels, the top was covered in boxes filled with packing peanuts. You briefly remembered Red Robin saying something about this place being owned by a former packing company, however at the time you weren’t really paying attention. In your defense Red Robin, at the time, had an mini army of at least fifty cups of empty coffee at his feet. 

Creeping past the boxes you settled yourself in between two large ones watching at Penguin and his goons stood in the middle of the room. 

“Where is he boss? Didn’t he say he’d be here?” One of the goons asked with a slight sneer.

Another rolled his eyes and scoffed, “I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t show, would make the boss look like an even bigger idiot.”

Penguin shot the man a look then he raised his umbrella, opened it slightly and a gunshot rang out. The goon fell down dead, a tense feeling came over you however, instead of jumping down and trying to apprehend him you stayed where you were. Someone else was coming, you may be impulsive at times but you weren’t a complete idiot. 

It wasn’t long before you heard doors open, it hadn’t occurred to you that the comms might not be working, you just thought that Black Bat and Batgirl were just either hiding as well somewhere in the warehouse or were waiting for you to say something. 

You can’t say that you weren’t surprised when you saw him. As far as you heard he was going straight, hell you where then when he told Batman himself that he was going to follow the Bat rules. You wished it didn’t hurt as much as it did, but seeing Red Hood walk into the warehouse stopping just before the center felt like someone shot you. 

He was alone and you could tell from his body language that this wasn’t exactly a friendly meeting, that and the fact that all of Penguin’s goons drew there weapons at the sight of him. 

“You rang?” Red Hood remarked.

Penguin narrowed his eyes and looked Red Hood over. He lowered his umbrella and took a step forwards.

“You came alone?”

“Does it look like I have backup?” 

Penguin didn’t reply, he just looked up and began to look around the second floor. For a moment you thought he spotted you, but he kept scanning the floor. After looking it all over he looked back to Red Hood, then remarked, 

“Search it.”  

Your stomach dropped and you knew you had to get out of there, normally you wouldn’t mind jumping into a fight, but Red Hood’s business was his own. No matter how much it hurt and no matter how much you wanted to know, it was none of your business. 

Slowly pushing yourself to your feet you waited until Penguin’s goons began to climb the stairs. Turning to go back the way you came you found yourself face to face with Scarecrow. 

Of course it just had to be Scarecrow, the one villain who had a toxin that could leave nearly everyone incapacitated. 

“Shit.”

Scarecrow laughed slightly remarking, “What do we have here?”

The next thing you knew something was being sprayed in your face. Instinctively you backed away from the liquid coming at you. Taking four steps back you suddenly noticed that the ground wasn’t beneath your foot anymore. Then you stumbled backwards and began to fall. 

After that everything was a blur, you faintly remember hearing Red Hood shout,

“Damn it.”  

Before everything disappeared and the nightmares took over. You awoke the next morning only to discover that had it not been for Red Hood you would have died. A rookie mistake, Scarecrow had snuck past into the warehouse as you were watching Penguin. Had you been paying attention to your surroundings instead of trying to find a reason to jump into the fight, you wouldn’t have been caught so off guard. 

Not paying attention to your surroundings also got you into the mess you were currently in. 

You, had been avoiding him, Red Hood- Jason Todd ,for the past few days. Not only was it embarrassing that you made such a dumb mistake but, the fact that you had to be rescued got under your skin. You prided yourself on not being a damsel in distress yet it seemed that you had times where you were one. It didn’t help that you felt violently angry at him, he was supposed to be going straight and yet he was meeting up with Penguin and Scarecrow. Every time you saw him you turned and nearly ran in the either direction. It had been working just fine until this evening.

You had been in the library of Wayne manor, grabbing a book off the shelf when Jason came in. Seeing him you felt a sharp spark of white anger, however instead of acknowledging his presence you decided to ignore him. A poor choice really, a petty one, and at the moment you didn’t care. 

You began to browse the shelves when you spotted him moving towards you. Continuing to ignore him you moved down the aisle. He followed and you turned sharply moving into the next aisle. 

“Y/N.”

You almost looked up, you almost blew it, however after many months of ignoring a persistent Tim Drake and an even more persistent Damian Wayne, you learned how to ignore someone when they called your name. 

Moving down the aisle towards the back of the library, you should have noticed Tim loitering in the corner and Dick at the very end of the last aisle. But you didn’t, you were too keen on keeping away from Jason.

“Y/N, are you seriously avoiding me?” 

You couldn’t keep it together, every fiber of your being wanted to shout YES, Yes! of course. Why wouldn’t you be avoiding him, you were angry with him, so very righteously angry... or so you thought. 

You made it to the end of the aisle and you stopped, had you been paying attention you would have noticed the open door just behind you and how Tim was right behind Jason as he got closer. You went to leave, to move to yet another aisle when Dick moved into your path. 

You side-stepped in a hope to slip past him but he followed you. Letting out a frustrated grunt you gave him a slight glare. 

“Move Dick, I need to get pass.” 

“Sorry Y/N, but no.” 

You blinked and raised an eyebrow in confusion, Dick took a step forwards and took the books from your arms. You opened your mouth to shout protests when he shoved you straight into the room behind you. Your back bounced against the wall and your stomach flipped as you realized it was a closet. A second later you saw Jason stumbling towards you. 

It seemed that he too got shoved into the closet, he slammed into you and you once again hit the back wall. The door slammed shut and you heard a faint click. Your stomach dropped and suddenly everything was dark. 

“You two,” Dick remarked from the other side of the door, “are going to make up and you are not coming out of there until you do.” 

You felt Jason pull away from you and then heard quiet cursing's. A light flickered on and you saw how small the room was, it was just the two of you alone together in a very tiny room. All the air went from your lungs and it began. You sank to the ground as the world around you began to spin. 

Instantly Jason was sitting across from you not fully seeming to understand you were having a panic attack. And that lead up to this moment the anger was being taken over by the panic. Your hands were shaking and you eyes closed, you could feel his gaze on you as you tried to steady your breathing. But everything was spinning and the enclosing walls followed you, dancing on your eyelids as you felt your empty stomach revolt against you. Had you eaten something you would probably be hurling it up. Instead your entire body shook as you pushed back dry-heaving's. 

Clenching your fists you let your nails dig into your skin trying your hardest to let the pain yank you out of the attack. But as your palms became slick with blood nothing happened. Opening your eyes you felt a fierce wave of panic come over you as you frantically looked around, trying your hardest to find your way out. 

You wanted to lunged towards the door, but you were stuck. The room was so small, you could feel Jason’s legs pressed against yours, your heart began to beat erratically and you swung a bleeding fist towards the door. Weakly banging against it you wanted to cry out but the words caught in your throat. So you decided to try and bang your fist against any and every thing you could, starting with the walls that seemed to be getting closer and closer with every breath. 

“Woah, woah, woah. Sweetheart calm down,” Jason remarked grabbing onto your wrist. 

You shook your head feeling tears beginning to form in your eyes, hands shaking even harder you felt your entire body begin to shutter. Squeezing your eyes shut you choked back sobs. Pressing your fists your eyes you tried to force back the tears. A heavy feeling cloaked your lungs and it felt as though you were trying to swallow a brick. 

You felt hands on your wrists, gently pulling them away from your face. Your eyes flew open and you began to once again look around erratically.

“Hey,” Jason said softly, “hey Y/N, look at me. Hey look at me, Y/N.” 

You forced yourself to focus on Jason, he locked gazes with you and then you tried to continue to look for a way out.

“Eyes on me doll,” He stated and you looked back at him, “that’s it, Atta-girl. Now breathe with me, innnnn and outtt.” 

He slowly began to breath and you took a deep breath in keeping your eyes on him, then let it out. Jason nodded and you breathed with him for a little while, slowly calming down ever so slightly. Still shaking however much calmer, he let go of your wrists and you clench your fists again. 

“Your safe, don’t worry. Everything’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna get us out of here alright?” 

At first you didn’t respond, then Jason pressed his forehead against yours and you could see his eyes, you were closer then you’ve ever been before. They were a pretty color, a greenish-blue, though at the moment they looked more green then blue. You also noticed how he had very light freckles across his cheekbones. If you weren’t freaking out you would have blushed, been embarrassed by how close he was, you would have probably taken a mental note about the freckles and how beautiful his eyes were. However, all you could think about was how small the room was. 

Very gently touching your forearms, Jason stared you dead in the eyes.  “Alright?”

You could only nod and grab onto his shirt in return. He blinked for a moment before his hand was off of your arm and around your waist. 

“Is this-”

You nodded once again before he could finish his question, he pulled you in closer, your legs squishing against each others as you pressed you head against his chest and closed you eyes. All you wanted was to get out of there, to be able to breathe and stop panicking. You felt Jason pull you into his lap and then he began banging on the door. 

“I swear to fuck that if you to dumbasses don’t open up this damn door I’m going to murder you in your sleep.” 

You could hear Tim and Dick quietly talking on the other side of the door. Probably contemplating whether or not they should open up. Merely thinking about the door make your heart pick up pace again and your restarted breathing quickly. Jason hesitated before he banged on the door again shouting,

“If you don’t open this door right fucking now, I’m going to break it down.” 

You heard cursing coming from the other side of the door and then a click, your eyes flew open and you watched as the door swung open. Lunging forwards you tumbled out of the closet. Air filled your lungs but you didn't stop there. No, you scrambled to your feet and went barreling out of the library down the stairs and out the door. Once you made it outside you took a deep breath in, fresh air sharply stung your lungs and you nearly collapsed into the grass crying with relief. 

It had been a lesson of sorts for you, learn to watch your surroundings... and don’t assume things. You didn’t exactly know what was going on at the warehouse but you did know that despite your previous disbelief, you believed Jason. He was going straight now, staying clean and following Bruce’s rules. Because there was no way he could be nice enough to help you through a panic attack, get you out of a closet and... save your life all while being bad and killing people. 

Though you’d never admit it, you might be a little biased, after all you might have a teeny, tiny, eensy-weensy little crush on him. It didn’t help that you found yourself wanting to spend more time with him, of course it wouldn’t be locked in a closet but... it wasn’t so bad. Being alone together. 

Blinking you lay down on the grass staring up at the sky, there were no walls here to come in on you, nothing really to suffocate you. Closing your eyes you took in deep breaths and let them out. You heard the sound of a door opening and the grass crunching slightly. Opening your eyes you saw Jason standing above you.

“You okay?”

“Much better now, thank you.” You replied taking in yet another breath

He nodded and looked as if he were about to turn and go when he let out a sigh. Closing your eyes you waited to hear the sound of him leaving, it never happened. Peeking an eye open you found him staring at you.

“You know Penguin asked to meet with me that night. He said it was a peace meeting… turns out he and Scarecrow planned to ambush me.”

You blinked in confusion. You hadn’t told anyone that you saw him in the warehouse and as far as you were concerned everyone thought he just swooped in and rescued you. Something you suddenly realized he was doing a lot of. Why was he explaining what happened to you.

“You didn’t have to tell me that,” You began as you gave him a confused look, “it’s not really my business.”

Jason shrugged then rubbed the back of his head. Nodding he remarked,

“Yeah, but I just thought you should know I am going straight. Following the old man’s rules and all.”

This only confused you more.

“Why? I didn’t tell anyone that you were meeting Penguin, and I wasn’t planning on it.”

Jason shrugged as he turned to leave, pausing for a moment he sighed.

“I don’t know doll, I just don’t like the idea of you seeing me as a bad guy.”

A weird feeling began in your chest, it wasn’t like butterflies or any kind of fluttery things. It was a warm and soft kind of feeling.

Smiling up at him you rolled your eyes and said,

“Well Jason Todd, I could never see you as a bad guy.”

He blinked and then smiled back shaking his head.

“That makes me very happy, Y/N L/N.”

With that he walked away and the warm feeling began to spread from your chest throughout your entire body all the way down to your toes and up to your ears.

It seemed it wasn’t as small of a crush as you wanted to believe. Feeling a slight blush begin on your cheeks, you covered your face as you realized being alone with him wouldn’t be so bad. As long as you were alone together

[got-svt]

for tonight 

order up !  large caramel latte at 75 % sweetness, an oatmeal raisin cookie, and a slice of cheesecake with doyoung for anon <3 order notes : doyoung x reader, angst, but the end is kinda fluffy, exes to lovers, some mentions of other nct members look, something’s written on your cup… hi anon! for oatmeal raisin cookies the prompt is either enemies or exes so i hope you don’t mind that i chose exes haha. anyways, i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it! <3 - ren

summary: it’s taeyong’s wedding and you find yourself having no choice but to share a bed with your ex-boyfriend, doyoung. word count: 2.75k ( so sorry, i might have to change the word count on large orders asdfghkl literally all my oneshots are over 2k why did i think i could stick to under 2k for ca )

You stared ahead, eyes unblinking at the sight. Sure, the sight of a single bed wasn’t remotely daunting to most of the human population, but not to you. Not when you had to share it with your ex-boyfriend, Doyoung. He wore the same look of shock you did, mouth parted, eyebrows raised, and a cold drop of sweat dripping down his forehead. Beside you, you could see his fists clenching and unclenching — like he was trying to keep himself calm, but to very little success. Unfortunately for him, you were also feeling very on edge as you bit the inside of your cheek — waves of nervousness building up from the very pit of your stomach, soon enough they would eventually have to come crashing down. 

You shouldn’t have come in the first place. If it weren’t for the incessant pestering of your friends, you wouldn’t have come at all. But it was Taeyong’s wedding, it was too big of a deal to ditch just because you didn’t feel like running into an ex. 

“Seriously, Yn?”  Taeyong pouted after hearing your initial hesitation on attending, “You’re skipping my wedding, the biggest day of my life, because you’re afraid you’ll see Doyoung? May I remind you that you were my friend before he became your boyfriend.”

You huffed, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “I know that, but what if things are awkward between us and we ruin your day because of it?”

“Hasn’t it been a couple of months already? I’m sure both of you moved on.” Taeyong rolled his eyes, “I’m not saying both of you have to spend the day together, I just want you to be there.”

You eventually agreed, though it took convincing from at least three other people besides Taeyong to get you to finally go. Johnny promised that he would sit beside you during the ceremony, you subtly asking to sit as far away from Doyoung as you possibly can — which meant tugging on his sleeve the second you caught sight of him. Taeyong was kind enough to move seating arrangements around, placing you in between Jaehyun and Mark and having you four tables away from Doyoung. You spent most of the reception dancing with Yuta and Haechan, laughing loudly whenever you stepped on their feet or when they spun you around a little too quickly. For most of the day, Doyoung had been in the back of your mind, enjoying the company you kept and catching up with your shared friends. But the day eventually had to end, nightfall slowly creeping up on you before shaking you back into the reality you had to force yourself to face.

“Okay, thank you.” Doyoung politely spoke before placing the telephone back on its receiver. His suit’s jacket was now off, neatly folded across the back of a wooden desk chair. The top two buttons of his crisp white button-down were undone.  

You had to stop yourself from staring too long to be considered appropriate, shaking your head slightly. “Well, what did they say?”

Doyoung winced at the sharpness in your tone. You didn’t mean to sound so harsh, or cold for that matter, the effects of the long day had been wearing down on you and you wanted nothing more than to take a warm shower and fall into a dreamless sleep surrounded by the fluffiest pillows this luxurious hotel had to offer.

“Hotel’s all booked up because of the wedding. We can’t get another room.” He sighed, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, the soft mattress dipping ever so slightly.

You pinched the the bridge of your nose, shutting your eyes as tightly as you could — as if that would somehow help you will into reality that this was not happening. The two of you booked this hotel room weeks before you had broken up, the minute you had finally gotten wind of the where the wedding was going to be held. In the sudden whirlwind that was your breakup, neither of you had remembered to cancel and book another room. With the the nearest hotel somehow fifty miles away, you slowly braced yourself to deal with the unfortunate situation of having to share the room with your ex-boyfriend.

You opened your eyes to see Doyoung hunched over, eyes trained on his phone, very clearly frustrated. His fingers moved across his screen quickly, face slightly lit up from its harsh glare. You tilted your head to the side, watching as he eventually shut his phone off and ran a hand through his already messy hair. “I asked our friends if I could sleep in any of their rooms. All of them answered no. All full apparently, so no space for me.”

You scoffed, there was no way none of them couldn’t possibly spare a bit of space for Doyoung. He nodded in agreement at your annoyance. Both of you knew all of your friends rooted for the two of you, they were the reason you had even gotten together in the first place. You knew Taeyong ever since you learned how to walk, and you saw no harm in going on a blind date with a friend he had claimed would be absolutely perfect for you. Their denial only triggered memories of their exaggerated wails of heartbreak when they found out about your breakup. 

“It’s fine, maybe I can sleep on the tub or something. You can take the bed.” Doyoung offered, motioning a hand towards the bed before heading to the bathroom. You rolled your eyes. Always the sweetheart, you thought. He was gone for all of five seconds when you heard his voice from the bathroom, soft yet clearly frustrated, “There’s no tub.”

Doyoung made his way over to you, his hands behind his back. There was a certain nervous energy that surrounded his figure, you wonder what was it about you that made him feel this way. Granted, this had been the first time you were going to be alone with him in months, you don’t even recall seeing him in person before the wedding. He refused to meet your eyes, gaze firmly on the carpeted floor beneath him, “I’ll take the floor instead.”

You knew there was no way you were letting him sleep on the floor, you were already about to protest his suggestion of sleeping on the tub until he made his way to the bathroom before he could even respond. Sure, you were broken up, but that didn’t mean you were that cold of a person to deny him access to a bed. “No.”

“What?” Doyoung looked up at you in surprise, eyes growing wide.

“Listen,” You sighed, not wanting to make this a bigger deal than it already was, “it’s been a long day, we’re both tired, both of us can take the bed. It’s just one night, what’s the worst that could happen? We can go back to pretending the other doesn’t exist in the morning.”

Doyoung blinked back at you, processing your words before nodding slowly. He didn’t feel like arguing with you anyways, not when the last time he saw you was in a screaming match that lasted hours and had you storming out of his apartment. “Fine, I assume you’ll take the right side of the bed? You can have the extra pillow too.”

You stepped back, trying your best to not seem too shocked that he still remembered your sleeping preferences. “Yeah, thanks.”

Doyoung nodded in acknowledgement, before both of you tried to get as much of your night routines done without bothering the other. The silence in the hotel room was palpable, breaking every now and then by the sounds of water running, doors opening and closing, bare feet prodding on carpeted floors, shuffling about as you narrowly avoided looking at or bumping into each other.

This is only for tonight, you and Doyoung thought to yourselves.

“Good night, I guess.” You mumbled, as both of you turned off the lamps on your respective sides of the bed.

“Night.”

The two of you were submerged in darkness, the only whisper of light coming from the moon that peeked through the curtains. You and Doyoung retreated to opposite edges of the bed, leaving an obnoxious amount of space between the two of you as you slept on your sides. You shut your eyes, hoping that sleep would come to you as soon as possible. 

It didn’t, but only because your thought kept drifting back to the man that lied beside you. It was almost impossible to keep your mind at bay, not when he was right there, just at arm’s reach — so close yet so far. You couldn’t help but look for the sound of his breathing, remembering how it used to comfort you on nights you had trouble sleeping, patterning your own breaths after his. Something in you wanted to turn around and face him, to lay your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer in the way he did before.

The truth was, you didn’t know the exact reason for your breakup. All you remembered was crying, screaming, eventually storming out. It was all the little moments that both of you held in, eventually bursting out when it was all too much to hold. All those late nights he came home from work late, the small seconds of jealousy that welled up between the two of you, all the cancelled plans, missed dates, moments of misunderstandings that never got brought up or resolved. 

You groaned as quietly as you could, not wanting to wake Doyoung up if he was already asleep. Maybe it was the effect of a long and tiring day, maybe it was because you had just been at a wedding and love was in the air, maybe avoiding him the entire day wasn’t the right move, not when it only made you miss him more. You couldn’t help but want to reach out for him and little did you know he felt the exact same way.

Doyoung felt cold, a chill creeping up his spine, goosebumps littering the little areas of skin he had exposed. He could hear your sighs, the groans that escaped your lips, and Doyoung knew you were having trouble sleeping. He wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms, the warmth of your body pressed against his. When he spent years falling asleep with you close to him most nights, it was hard to forget all of that in a matter of months. 

He remembered how his heart ached when he saw you lead yourself and Johnny away from him, when he saw you seated tables away with him, talking it up with Mark and Jaehyun. But it shattered when he saw you dancing with Yuta and Haechan, smile wider than he had ever seen before, looking like you were having the time of your life without him. 

Doyoung didn’t know how you were only keeping it all in, pretending like it didn’t bother you. 

You turned to lay on your back, eyes wide and wake, looking up at the ceiling. There was nothing to look at, everything was painted in a pale shade of gray. There’s shuffling beside you as Doyoung turned to lay on his back as well, hands neatly folded on his stomach.

“Can’t sleep, Yn?” He asked, eyes also fixated on the ceiling. 

You shook your head but quickly realized he probably couldn’t see you, “No. I suppose you can’t either.”

“Any reason why?”

“Thinking…” You trailed off, afraid of what you’d say if he dared to ask more.

“About?”

You sighed, unsure if you should actually answer. There was never really any closure to your breakup, you could only remember leaving. “Us, like what exactly happened?”

There was a certain amount of vulnerability in your voice, it was quiet and soft, yet it still pierced through the air and rang in his ears. He couldn’t believe you, how could you ask him that? 

��Yn, you left me.” Doyoung answered back, he tried to sound nonchalant, but his voice cracked at the final word, giving his true emotions away.

You deserved that, the little clench in your chest at the sadness in his voice. “But you didn’t go after me. You just let me leave. You let me go so easily.”

“Did you want me to go after you? Would you have taken me back if I did?” Doyoung turned on his side once again, now facing you, “I thought you were done with me.”

You kept your eyes on the ceiling, trying your best to ignore Doyoung’s piercing gaze. You couldn’t look at him, not when the guilt of your actions finally caught up with you. It was a selfish decision really, to leave so suddenly, not giving each other a chance to possibly work it out. You still don’t know why you had done it, or at least made no effort to contact him after, leaving both of you to just assume that things were over. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up.” You bring your hands up to your temple, trying to rub away the headache that was beginning to form. Should you say anything else? Did you even want to? Your chest tightened, feeling tears form in the corners of your eyes. You had spent the entire day keeping it in, spent the months after your breakup pretending that this was for the best, that this was what you wanted. The walls you built around yourself finally came crumbling down, “I just…I missed you. I can’t even remember why we broke up in the first place, why I left…”

You expected him to turn away, to tell you it was too little and far too late. Instead he reached out to you, the suddenness of his action had you yelping in surprise. He pulled you to his chest, closing the distance you had put between yourselves. Doyoung whispered, his breath ever so slightly tickling your ear, “I’m sorry for letting you leave.”

“No,” You shook your head against his chest, tears staining the white cotton shirt he chose to wear to bed, “I’m sorry for leaving in the first place.”

Doyoung didn’t say anything else, letting you cry into his chest as he rubbed comforting circles on your back. You calmed down after a few minutes, but you still gripped his shirt tightly, like you were afraid that you were going to lose him again if you didn’t. 

It was quiet, but it wasn’t the same kind of silence that descended between the two of you earlier in the night. This silence was more peaceful, content. You could hear the sound of his heart beating, relaxing and consistent — lulling you to sleep. Doyoung felt your breath against his neck, warm and inviting, reminding him that you were once again in his arms. The heaviness in his chest that plagued him the past few weeks was suddenly gone, replaced with a sense of peacefulness. 

“You know, something in me says that you didn’t cancel this hotel room on purpose.” Doyoung teased, knowing it would get some sort of reaction from you.

And it did. You groaned as you hit his chest, in the way you always did whenever he teased you when you were still together, your hand still lingering on his chest even after you hit him. Unfortunately, you exerted a little more force than you originally intended. 

“Ouch!” He exclaimed, but you could tell he wasn’t actually hurt when you saw the ghost of a smile making its way to his lips, “Are you trying to flirt with me or start a fight?”

“Which would you prefer?” 

“Definitely flirting.” Doyoung grinned, wrapping his arms tighter around you. 

You hummed, content as sleep finally began to take its hold on you, “What happens now?”

“We can talk about it in the morning.” Doyoung kissed your temple, one hand running through your hair, “We should go to sleep.”

You snuggled further into his embrace, a content sigh escapes Doyoung’s lips. There was still so much left for the two of you to talk about, to actually work on if you wanted your relationship to last. But that was all to be discussed in the morning. Right now, for tonight and this very moment, Doyoung only decided on one thing: there was no way he was letting you leave again.

— thank you for visiting cafe amore ! feel like ordering something else? check the menu here.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 14- New World Order

Summary: With the world back to it’s usual business, and the Avenger’s base on a long road to recovery. You and Bucky begin a new chapter in Brooklyn, New York City.

Warning: just fluff really, and some spicy talk maybe a little suggestive themes if you will

Masterlist

It’s been about three months since the events leading up to the dusting of Thanos’ whole army and the death of that giant purple bastard. Ninety-one days since Tony Starks funeral, and 2184 hours since your entire world changed for the better.

Although you’d be a sore liar if you said you didn’t miss your old life with everyone at the Avengers Facility. Even with such a dramatic new change to your life now, you miss Natasha, you miss your late night talks with Steve, and maybe you even miss that little shithead raccoon. But there has been an emerging inner peace with what you gained that just about outweighs your heavy losses.

Someone who’s brought you unconditional love and understanding in your blooming state, someone who’s helped to draw your grief and anguish out of your vessel and transform it into something golden and pure. Your sweet Bucky. If someone last year was to claim at this time you’d be living in an apartment in New York with the love of your life. Well, you’d probably have swiftly made them regret it.

But now, things are better, not one hundred percent fantastic and awesome. But so much better then yourself an entire year ago could ever have even imagined. And that’s good enough for you.

Staring intently down at your little houseplant, you gently spray it with a spray bottle before standing back to admire your caretaking skills. Not too bad. Not too bad at all. Face shifting to that of a stern army general, you get down real close to the leaves so that your face is mere inches from the soaked plant, “I hope you drink this up okay? Bucky thinks I’m gonna kill you and I’m not losing that bet to him. No sir, so don’t you die on me.” The tiny fern keeps silent for obvious reasons at your little pep talk, it’s green leaves protruding beautifully outward as you set the spray bottle onto the countertop.

“He’s gonna owe me fifty dollars if you last till October, and I don’t even care about the money. I just want bragging rights.” You whisper before standing up and wandering over to the living room window.

The city lights are glowing vibrantly in the nights atmosphere, cars and people alike traveling down below your apartment building, oblivious to the whereabouts of two Avengers a couple stories above their very heads. Two ex-assissins. Both products of Hydra. Damn you’ve got a loaded history.

“Y/N! Are you coming!” There’s a long pause of silence from your bedroom that causes you to open your mouth to answer, but before you’re able to say anything in reply, Bucky yells out, “Also I can’t find my white t-shirt, do you know where it is?! Actually never mind I’m going shirtless!”

You let out a humored snort before swiftly turning on your heel and walking down the hallway until you finally reach your bedroom door, “You know we have neighbors right?”

Bucky sends you a shy smile as he disappears into the bathroom for something, “I’m sure this place has thick walls.” He says while flipping up the ceramic toilet seat.

“Uh huh.” You mutter unconvinced, deciding to search his drawers for a spare sleeping shirt.

Noticing your snooping, Bucky finishes up before flushing the toilet and wandering out the door until he’s practically leaning against your shoulder, “Don’t you have clothes?” Questions Bucky with a small chuckle as you throw him a look.

“I need ones to sleep in.” You casually protest as he slowly nods, clearly not getting your admittedly vague point.

“Don’t you have one to sleep in?”

Picking out a grey shirt of his, you shut the dresser before taking off yours, “All my shit got destroyed when Thanos blew up the base. So I’m limited with the stuff I did buy.” He watches as you unintentionally flash him before pulling on his sleep shirt, “And I’m not exactly eager to be out and about right now. I’m still getting used to the new amount of people on this planet. Also I don’t like shopping......or people.”

Bucky nods in understanding as he follows you to the bed, though he can’t quit suppress his chuckles, “Okay fine.”

Throwing the blanket back, you raise a brow at him for that humored yet blunt remark, “Did you not want me to take this one?” You ask, speaking like you’re talking to a little puppy just to tease him more.

Rolling his beautiful blues, Bucky gets into bed as you do the same, “No. Its fine, I don’t actually care.”

Chuckling, you move to sit next to him as he lays on his back, “Good. Cause you’re shirtless and I think I like you better that way. Means I can tickle you easier.”

“Don’t you dare tickle me Y/N or I will lock you out of the bathroom again I swear.” Warns Bucky as he quickly pulls the blanket over his muscular body while you start laughing at him.

“I wasn’t gonna do that. No....definitely not.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Huh well, guess you won’t be able to cuddle me then if you don’t trust me...” Throwing the blanket off of him, Bucky quickly engulfs you into his strong arms as you squeak with surprise, pulling you down so that he can be the big spoon for tonight.

“Now you’re trapped.” Mumbles Bucky against your shoulder as his chest pushes at your back when he laughs. He thinks he’s so funny.

Holding his arm that’s pressed against your body, you gently pat it as he hums in content, “Buck, I’m thoroughly enjoying this actually so just keep your arm there, even if it falls asleep you’re not allowed to move it sucker. That’s the rules.”

“Well maybe I like those rules. Sucker.” Chuckles Bucky as you bite your lip to keep from laughing. “Now go to sleep, it’s been a long week.”

“Fine.” You mumble into the darkness as a yawn hits you right after. Soon your breaths become steady and calm as you both lay there for another thirty minutes. You are tired, it’s just, something keeps you awake that just can’t be satisfied if you keep going on like this.

“Hey.” You whisper, he gives a low hum in reply, “Buck, I forgot to tell you I have a cat.”

Opening an eye, he gently squeezes your stomach, “You have a cat? Y/N what....how...uh, where is this cat?

“I gave her to Morgan. So I guess she’s technically not mine anymore, I don’t know. Just felt like telling you that.”

“Thanks for sharing.”

“Anytime.”

The both of you go as silent as ghosts before erupting into a fit of giggles, he buries his face into your hair as his sweet laughter bounces off the walls of your room. Though soon enough does the both of your giggles die down to nothing more then the calming sounds of your breathing.

Your mind dwells with a growing fatigue though your body seems to want something else then slumber, sucking in a soft breath, you hum in thought before whispering, “Bucky.” Just to spark his curiosity.

“Yeah.”

“Uh,” Maybe you shouldn’t be asking this and just let him sleep, “how tired are you?” You ask him anyways.

He pauses for a moment before slowly answering with a mumbled, “Tired.”

You hum in acknowledgment, voice low as you answer him, “oh okay.” Immediately sparking his interest.

“Why?” Asks Bucky, intrigued with your slightly disappointed response.

“Nothing, you said you’re tired so we can sleep.”

Bucky’s head rises off of the pillow as he leans over you to try and look at your face, “Well now I wanna know so tell me.” States Bucky in curiosity before catching himself, eyes softer now, “Please.”

Sighing, you purse your lips together, knowing he’s still leaned against your shoulder but deciding to spill anyways as you half-sheepishly whisper, “I’m kinda horny.”

“Kinda?” Chuckles Bucky in an almost teasing manner as you snort.

“Listen you little shithead, I know we did it the other day but I haven’t had sex in five goddamn years give me a break for being a bit horny despite my sleepiness.” You sass, “I’m just, I’ve been feeling a lot of things since you’ve come back. And I yunno, didn’t wanna come off too strong at first so...uh...yeah.”

Bucky hums in thought, “Right, right....yeah.”

Maybe he is too tired? You let out a little huff of slight embarrassment before turning your head to face him better, “It’s just how I’m feeling right now but if you’re too tired that’s really fine with me okay Buc...oh uh...mhmm...” Your worries lost to the wind as his fingers begin slipping underneath your shirt, plush lips pressing feather light kisses against your neck to shut you up from your restless mind. His digits graze over your hardened nibble before Bucky pulls your body flush to his, stubbled chin pressed against your shoulder as he plants a tiny kiss there.

You smile into the darkness when his kisses trail up from from your shoulder to your neck and finally your cheek, he slowly turns you onto your back as his lips plant butterfly kisses all over your face as you begin chuckling at how undeniably adorable he’s being right now. Mhmm hmm you could get used to this.

His arms slip from out of your sleep shirt, soon trapping you to the bed as he hovers over your heavenly vessel, granting you with a plethora of lovely kisses all over your heated skin like he’s exploring you for the first time all over again. Your hands instinctively trail through his shortened dark locks while he draws your legs apart with his muscular torso, doing everything to further spark your growing excitment.

Tonight will indeed be wonderful.

——

Waking up from out of a decently pleasant slumber, you suck in a deep breath to awaken the senses for the day, hands feeling around the rumpled up sheets for your snuggle buddy only to find nothing but an empty bedside. He’s gotten unbelievably good at sneaking out of bed it’s honestly one of the most impressive things he can do.

Your eyes scan the semi-closed window shades to reveal a glowing darkness, it’s only 5:00am, and you know exactly where he’s gone off to even after keeping him up for half the night. Instantly you’ve slipped out of bed, not bothering to turn on the lights as you quietly wander down the hallway until you reach the living room.

Past the small kitchen, and to the left of the single lounge chair, there he is. Snoozing like a meaty log of pure muscle and Vibranium as he lays on a thin blanket flush against the hardware floor. Another blanket covering his lower half as he shifts a bit in his sleep, he’s restless. Your eyes soften at your lover, he’s been doing this recently since Steve left and the world sucked Bucky back into reality. You’ve had plenty of time to adjust of course, but for Bucky, he’s had three months since you two parted from the comfort of Wakanda to live in America as part-time Avengers.

Technically he’s only free from the government and jail time for that matter because he was pardoned by the president and thus was forced to agree upon attending mandated therapy for everything the Winter Soldier did in the past. While you on the other hand were pardoned for war crimes and your involvement with the terrorist organization Hydra because of your status as an Avenger.

Also you’re technically only still allowed to live in the United States because you live with Bucky, who is conveniently from America, so you get a free pass as long as you two plan on residing under the same roof. So it works out for you.

Suddenly his labored breaths quicken and a second later he jolts awake, now drawing himself into a seated position as little beads of sweat shine in the light of the glowing television screen that shows some unimportant sports game.

His chest rises and falls before his blue eyes blink back the vivid fuzziness of his latest nightmare, gaze slowly shifting over to you once he realizes another body is near him. When his irises catch you in the full glow of the tv, he immediately lowers his head in slight embarrassment.

“Did I wake you up again?” Mutters Bucky, almost sounding like he’s mad at himself for letting you find him like this once more.

Shaking your head, you swiftly move to seat yourself at his level before leaning your back against the lounge chair, “You never wake me up Bucky, I think I have a sixth sense for you or something cause when you leave I just know.” You chuckle lightly as he shifts himself closer to you, “Also I miss you next to me.”

His head presses against the corner of the chair as he leans down to leave a light kiss on your shoulder, “I’m sorry. I just.....I don’t want to startle you when I’m having a nightmare and wake up, well, like that.”

Turning to face him, you reach a comforting hand up to gently run it through his shortened dark hair, “You can’t scare me off that easily Barnes. I could probably be classified as the monster under your bed if we’re talking about scary things at night.”

He reveals the ghost of a smile while leaning into your touch, “I know Y/N, it’s just not fair that I do this more then I should. You shouldn’t have to wake up all alone after living like that for five fucking years....I shouldn’t be doing this.”

“oh James..” You whisper while scooting closer so that your bent knees are against his own, hand now snaked down so that you can intertwine your hands with his, “...it’s not your fault the nightmares are coming back. And as much as I miss having you near me, sometimes we all need our space when things get internally rough. I get it, believe me. But don’t ever feel sorry okay? You have nothing to say sorry for, at least not to me alright?”

Bucky nods, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze while he shows the flash of a smile, “Okay.” Whispers Bucky, eyes falling down to your intertwined fingers before he finds your gaze once more, “Let’s go to bed, the sun will be up soon and I have a therapy session today.”

“Therapy is good for you Bucky.”

He rolls his eyes as you laugh at his annoyed expression, “You are my therapy.” Protests your lover before standing and pulling you up with him.

Hugging his torso affectionately, you smirk up at him, “Wrong answer James.” Holding back a genuine grin, he simply leans down to press his lips against yours. Doing his best to shut you up from further mentioning his required therapy sessions that he absolutely loathes to attend. 

——

Hands stuffed deep within your jacket pockets, you wander in step with Bucky who brushes his right arm against yours every couple of steps on the cement sidewalk of Brooklyn. You patiently waited the full forty-five minute session for him, knowing all too well that the second he walked out of there and saw your beautiful face. He’d be significantly less grumpy then before, just as you’d suspected.

Turning your head to face him, he keeps looking straight ahead though he’s aware enough to know you’re about to say something about the session, “You didn’t mention the nightmares did you.” Bucky huffs, annoyed at getting so easily caught by your observant intellect about him. You can read him like a book.

“No.” A blunt answer, he knows there’s no point in lying. “She thinks I need to call more people. Be more social or something.....it’s stupid.” He grumbles to himself though your ears catch it all the same.

You hum in agreement, “Well it wouldn’t kill you to call Sam, I know he tries to text you sometimes...”

“Does he text you?”

“Yeah.” You reply before playfully nudging his arm, “And unlike you, I answer. He’s just a concerned friend, which is nice, you need those kind of people.”

“I don’t need anyone but you Y/N. I’m good, really.”

Rolling your eyes, you snort as he throws you a half offended look, “Babe, I love you. But it’s admittedly a good thing to have other friends other then me. I know this from experience as we both know, so, give him a call sometime okay? For me.”

“Ugh, fine.” He begrudgingly mutters, “But only for you, that’s it.” Smiling brightly at him, you’re about to add something else when the sounds of your friend Yori rings loud in the bustle of the city as he argues with his annoyance of a neighbor, Unique. Something about trash and putting it in the wrong bin.

Bucky soon comes to the rescue and quickly puts an end to the argument before Yori decides to throw hands and gets himself in trouble. The stubborn old man gives up on his yelling and soon Bucky is able to convince him to get lunch with the two of you.

To the sushi place you go.

“Nobody made it past 90 this week.” Says Yori sadly as you lean against Bucky’s shoulder to catch a glimpse of the newspaper that he’s holding in one hand while you use your chopsticks to stuff a chunk of sushi in your mouth.

“So young. Such a shame.” Mutters Bucky with a shake of his head while he takes another bite of his meal.

“You guys didn’t order the usual, huh? Feeling a little adventurous?” Smiles Leah as you take a sip of your water, she loves when you three come in during her shift. Honestly she’s heard a lot of your complaining over the last couple weeks, though it’s usually just about some city annoyance since you don’t want to scare her off with all the real shit you’ve dealt with. You’re trying to make friends after all.

You acknowledge her with a raise of your drink before setting it on the glass counter, “Oh yeah, I like to live a little on the wild side..” You add with a laugh, “..unfortunately I tend to drag them along with me.”

Yori nods, “I enjoy the adventure.” Before pointing to Bucky, “It’s him right here who is scared of getting his feet wet.”

Leah laughs at the adorably confused face of Bucky as he sends the old man a look while you snicker in amusement. “Yori.” Warns Bucky without an once of aggression while you give his shoulder a gentle squeeze of affection.

“What?” Protests Yori, “I am right and you know it. Y/N am I not right?”

“Oh, you’re definitely not wrong.” Bucky pouts as you give his stumbled cheek a light peck, eyes set back onto your delicious sushi as he pretends to be annoyed by you and and Yori’s teasing.

The three of you continue to chomp down on your weekly lunch days meal at the usual sushi spot for another minute longer. Yori’s eyes suddenly sparking with a thought that you know he’s absolutely not going to keep to himself.

“You know what?” Whispers Yori as he leans in closer to Bucky, quit obviously pointing a finger towards you though you simply ignore them as he continues, “You better treat your woman well okay? She’s a good one...Ah I have a perfect idea. You go on a date, like dancing or....or, bingo.” Suggests the old man as your smile grows.

Bucky’s brows furrow as he whispers back, “We’re already dating.”

Yori nods, “You misunderstand my point, you must keep the flame going always okay? Very important, very important. When was the last time you gave her flowers huh? Went to the park? Whooed her..”

“I bought her a plant.” Says Bucky defensively as he side eyes you, “I, I whoo her.”

The old man smiles, “Good, good. That’s how you keep them around for a long time. Don’t forget that, I know what I’m talking about.”

“I’m sure you do.” Mumbles Bucky as you suppress the urge to laugh at their adorable conversation about how to treat a significant other right. That significant other being you.

——

Seated crisscrossed on the wooden floor of yours and Bucky’s shared apartment, a single thin blanket underneath you, your eyes squint suspiciously at Bucky like you don’t believe a single thing he’s saying. He’s seated on a pillow across the small coffee table, raising a dark brow at you while he holds back a growing smirk.

Your eyes soon shift down to the board before slowly trailing over his forced stoic face, “Well, Mr. Barnes....you’re a strong captain I’ll admit. But I am a skilled sea traveler of my own. E7.” His blue irises flicker down to his board, expression shifting ever so slightly in irritation, you got him.

Biting his lip, his hands move from behind the plastic board of the game that you can’t see, “How about that.” States Bucky with a genuinely impressed nod, “You sunk my battleship.”

Instantly your hands ball into fists, “Yessss.” You whisper joyously as your eyes squint in happiness for your first ever win against the literal master of Battleship. “Ha ha sucker! I won! I fucking won!” You shout with passion as he leans back on one arm to watch you jump up into a theatrical victory dance. God he loves you so much. You dangerous little goofball.

Swinging your arm dramatically in a circle, you shake your hips before winding down your dramatics to wander on over to Bucky who’s still seated on the floor, shimmering blues never leaving yours. Smirking victoriously, you crouch down to meet his humored gaze, “I think I deserve a prize.....and by prize I mean you get me those gummy worm things from the corner store. I deserve it after all.”

He tilts his head, the corners of his mouth rising as his eyes flicker to your lips for a brief moment, “Do you now?” He smiles lovingly though a sudden mischief sparkles in his eyes.

“Yes. This was the first time I ever won so I definitely deserve some type of reward for my efforts.” You state justly, eyes narrowing as you add, “Or I will battle you, and I’m not talking about the game.”

Bucky tilts his head up, an alluring smile playing at his plush pink lips while his eyes flicker to your mouth once again, oh he is certainly not going to get you naked in an attempt at swaying your mind from those gummies. You’re an ex-assassin who deserves some damn gummies every once in awhile. And his ass is gonna get you them, it’s only fair after all.

“Y/N.” Coos Bucky in that sultry voice of his, metal hand reaching up to touch your beautiful face, but as his fingers come within an inch of your precious skin. You shoot a hand up to clasp against his in an iron grip, blue eyes immediately going big when you tuck and roll. Taking his whole body with you.

In the swift aftermath, you’re able to skillfully pin him to the ground with relative ease. Both your hands pressed firmly against his naked wrists as you lean your face mere inches from his own, “I warned you, didn’t I?” You tease playfully as he breaks out into an inviting grin.

“I have something else in mind that you’ll absolutely love.” Assures Bucky with a telling expression that does nothing to hide the lust that flashes through them.

“In that case, pin me to the floor. And I’m all yours for the evening.” You whisper slyly as he practically shivers underneath your touch, “But if I win, you gotta travel two blocks for those delicious bitches. Khorosho, lyubov' moya?” You add in your native tongue of Russian, translating to “okay, my love” before pressing your forehead against his, eyeing him up like a bull ready to fight.

Bucky lets out a little sigh, something between annoyance and pleasure, “Fine. But you’re going dow...” Your lips crash against his in a hot second of passion before you quickly pull away, letting go of his wrists as you move to stand in a defensive position nearby.

Slowly blinking, he lets out a little huff before pulling himself to his full height, eyes trailing over you as he raises a brow, “Now that wasn’t fair.”

You casually shrug, “What wasn’t fair? We made a deal Barnes.”

Bucky rolls his eyes at your teasing, “You know what I...okay, okay. We’re really doing this?”

You shrug at his adorable expression, “You either have to walk 2 blocks in the dark for my treat, or a night of undeniably fantastic sex is within your reach. Not that I wouldn’t enjoy it, it’s the principle of the thing here. So, I’m going to fight you James Buchanan Barnes.” Oh and you used his full name too, Bucky knows without a doubt, it’s on.

He reveals a little smirk at that, “Guess I don’t have much of a choice. Hmm alright hot stuff let’s do this.” Muses your lover as he draws his hands up into fists, ever so slowly approaching you like a wary predator to their opposing rival. Not so sure if this is going to be a fight he can win or not, well, it sure won’t be an easy one.

When he’s within arms reach, you swiftly duck under his swift jab to your right arm, shooting a leg out to push him away from you while your body twists around to meet him. “Cheap shot.” Mumbles Bucky, calculated gaze studying your every movement as you slowly wander closer to him.

Looking as innocent as ever, “I want some gummy worms, I’ll break you little man.” Accent dripping with every word, further arousing Bucky though he tries to play it off with a laugh and a shake of his head.

Soon the two of you engage in a swiftly heated battle of hand to hand combat showing your admittedly intense skills of what only a former assassin could display so fluidly. Your two bodies moving like seasoned dancers across the hardwood flooring of your apartment, though you’re surprisingly able to keep relatively quiet as he blocks your fists. Can’t disturb those pesky neighbors.

Bucky shifts left just as you narrowly scrape your right elbow against his shoulder with a high jab from your elbows desperate upper cut, you slide on the hardwood under the false presumption that he’s out of reach when his flesh arm swings out to catch you in your stomach with a loud hollow thud. Ouch!

Instantly your throat emits a strange squeak as you feel the air knocked out of your precious lungs, clearly you had not anticipated this turn of events and neither does Bucky who immediately looks like he just accidentally stepped on a puppies little paw. “Y/N!” Worries Bucky with wide eyes as you keep hunched over, trying to suck in some needed oxygen.

Pulling some air into your lungs, you pretend to hobble over to the couch like a beaten down boxer, “Mm hmgood, yep.” You rasp out, resting your upper half on the couch as Bucky quickly approaches your side. But before he’s able to lay a comforting hand onto your shoulder, you swing a decorative pillow right at his head.

The puffy fabric knocks him onto his ass, earning a surprised grunt in the process as you tower above him, smirking like a trickster goddess over a poor lost and lonely traveler. Bucky rubs his reddened cheek, brows furrowed as he whines, “Y/N.” Like a little child who just got something taken from them by another kid.

Smirking a satisfied grin, you kneel down to meet his level, raising up a hand to gently draw his chin upwards to face you better, “That hurt you dickhead.” You muse as Bucky pouts, “ Y/N, I didn’t mean too..”

“I know.” You chuckle, “Now make it better.” You slyly add with a suggestive implication in your tone that causes Bucky to raise a brow. Letting go of his stubbled chin, you seat yourself onto the floor, facing Bucky as he reaches his metal hand out to pull you in closer to him.

Just about shoulder to shoulder with him, he gently presses his Vibranium hand to your cheek before pulling your face closer to his, soon the two of you lock lips with one another as his other hand snakes around to pull you onto him.

Ever so gently do you follow him to the floor as he continues to passionately make out with you like there’s no tomorrow. Metal and flesh hand feeling you up from your breasts to your bum as you straddle your man, hands trailing through his shortened hair while he fully enjoys this new positioning and turn of events.

Bucky presses wet kisses all around your cheeks and lips while he begins nonchalantly unbuttoning your pants, clearly hoping this will continue further and that all thoughts of those delicious gummy worms are out the door. You won’t lie to yourself though, caging Bucky’s thick torso underneath your opened legs is an admittedly pleasant experience to say the least.

So when he snakes his hands up under your shirt and starts messaging your breasts through the fabric of your bra, your mind begins thinking of some other things a bit more important then some simple treat from the local corner store. He knows just how to turn his favorite lover into a pile of puddy with nothing more then his mouth and fingers. This little shithead isn’t even inside you yet, you’re not even naked for goodness sakes!

But alas, a bet is a bet, and you don’t like to lose. Smirking into the kiss, and holding back a moan as Bucky’s digits squeeze your soft breasts, you tug on his hair before pulling away from his pleasantly inviting lips. Earning a palpable pout of confusion from your man, who’s noticeably grown hard against your bum.

“Y/N?”

“Bucky.” You tease back, imitating his voice once again as he throws you a puzzled look, “Don’t give me that shit Barnes I know what you’re trying to do.”

“And what am I trying to do?” Sasses Bucky as he rests his hands onto either side of your hips.

You raise a brow down at him, “These shenanigans.”

Bucky smiles, head falling back onto the floor as he laughs, “That’s not, no I’m not doing any shenanigans I swear....I just, maybe I just want to show my girl how much I love her.” Replies Bucky, though you stay unconvinced.

“We had a deal remember?”

“Yeah well, none of us won so..”

“Oh really?” You challenge, “Then why are you on your back and I’m right here as the victorious one? Who by the way has earned her gummy worms fair and square James Buchanan Barnes.”

Bucky groans, “oh come on Y/N....I can’t go now. Have some pity on me please?”

“And why not?”

He gently gives your hips an affectionate squeeze, “Because, my beautiful she-wolf who I love so very much and cherish every day of my life forever and alw..”

“Get to the point I want those damn gummies.” You threaten with a stern look though he knows you don’t truly mean it of course, but he has successfully annoyed you. “What is the problem this time?”

Bucky throws you a sheepish grin as he takes one of your hands in his, “Because I’m hard.” Sincere and straight to the point.

Pursing your lips together in amused irritation, you remove his hand from your hip, “Well, you did that to yourself babe I can’t help how amazing I am just existing. Really get over yourself.” You playfully tease before standing above him as his eyes never once leave your beautiful face, “Those gummies aren’t going to buy themselves.”

Bucky sighs dramatically shaking his head as he whispers, “You’re a monster of the greatest evil.” Smiling like a lovestruck idiot despite his neutrally spoken words.

You chuckle, stepping over him to pick up a pillow, “That’s me. Now don’t give me a reason to show you my claws.”

He quickly rises to his full height, another fallen pillow in hand as he tries to hide his hardened member behind it like some shitty magic act, “I’m just, I’m gonna hold this pillow for you. Not important why.”

“Uh huh.” You muse as he watches you clean up Battleship, putting all the pieces away and into the particular box before shoving it underneath the couch. When you go to fold the furniture's decorative blanket, a knock is heard at the door.

“Not it.” Mutters Bucky as you throw him an annoyed glance, already aware of who this is by their familiar scent. You walk over to the door and open it as Bucky hides in the background, pillow still covering his tented crotch.

“Hello Mrs. Brego you need help with your windows again?” You speak in Italian to your neighbor from down the hall. The old woman smiles before giving you a little shake of her head indicating a no.

“No dear, just telling you there’s cops downstairs for that guy from Chicago I think, so if you plan on going out. I wouldn’t choose tonight, the whole lobby is filled with people I think he might have been into drugs.” Warns the sweet old woman as you slowly nod, knowing all to well that Bucky most certainly heard everything.

Faking a smile, you shrug, “Wasn’t planning on going out tonight anyways. Well, thanks again. See you when I see you.” She smiles brightly before turning to walk down the hallway and into her own apartment, you watch until she shuts her door just to make sure nothing bad happens on your time.

Feeling comfortable that’s she’s fine, you shut and lock the door, pursing your lips as you turn around to face a smirking Bucky. He’s still holding the pillow against his junk, but he looks incredibly full of himself standing there with that stupidly handsome face of his. Those eyes. That smile. His body......no, focus.

Bucky goes to open his mouth but before he can say something sarcastic you throw a hand up to stop him, “Not a word.” You deadpan before turning to walk down the hallway, stopping yourself to glance over your shoulder, “Give me five minutes and then you can come to bed. But you better be naked or else.”

Bucky snorts as you practically swagger down the short hallway and into your shared bedroom. Closing the door as you prepare yourself for a late night of adventuring each others bodies.

Oh tonight will be something indeed.

-

Tagged: @diegos-butt  @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @bizarrebibitch @atomicpersonacheesecake @jmstz @staygoldsquatchling02 @marvelbros-oneshots @shawnartmendes @mischiefmanaged71 @jckie94 @iamasimpingh0e @mjaudrey​   @thescarlettvvitch

[slashersins]

How would the slashers( whoever you would like to do) react to a s/o who left to do something but didn’t tell them.

i already covered what bubba would do in this situation , so let’s do the other slashers !

How would the slashers( whoever you would like to do) react to a s/o who left to do something but didn’t tell them.

jason

do not do this to jason . firstly , you don’t know the woods as well as jason . you have no idea how many or where the traps he has set up are . it’d be just so easy for a bear trap to snag your leg , sending you flying forward in pain and having your head bash against a rock . you could even be followed and hunted by a wild animal , ripe and ready to become their next meal . you could reach the same fate that had killed jason all those years ago and drown in the lake . or someone might come to camp and take you away . for the sake of your safety , do not go out into the forest alone . and for the sake of jason’s sanity , never leave without telling him . the panic and anguish he feels at finding you gone , the desperation and fear that beats against him is almost too much to for him . he’ll be tearing through the camp , wild and furious and desperate as he tries to pick up any trace of you , terror fueling every step , every breath he takes . 

when he does find you , in the middle of some field with a book in your hands , looking lazy and happy . . . he’s torn between hugging you and shaking sense into you . he’ll collapse to his knees before you , tugging you into his large chest and holding you . he’ll try to convey to you that you cannot do this to him again . please . yn , please . he was so scared .

thomas

you weren’t in the house . thomas checked . he was used to seeing you sitting on the couch with monty , maybe finishing up cooking , or even sometimes doing the laundry when he came up for lunch . this time was different . the house was quiet . and tommy couldn’t find you in your usual spots . he’d grunted to monty , asking where you were only to get shut down with a “ i don’t know where the little bitch ran off to . maybe they finally up and left your ugly ass . ” those words angered him as much as they terrified him . he searched over the house , more panicked , stomping and tearing open every shut door . but you weren’t there . not in the house . not in the barn , not in any of the cars hidden out back . thomas even stomped over to henrietta's , quite rudely bursting into the home to search for you , frantic . he ignored the woman’s gasps and shouting about him being a big brute , he had other things on his mind . there was only one place left to look . luda mae’s shop . 

his body was screaming at him , the adrenaline pumping through him and keeping him going wearing out as he stomped ,doing his best to jog to the store . it’s when he’s half way there that he sees a figure in the distance . and the closer he gets the more he can make out . you . it’s you . it’s you , it’s you , it’s you . he’s running now , hot tears of relief welling in his eyes as he all but tackles you , pulling you into a tight embrace as his tired legs finally give you . he pulls away only to touch your face . to feel you . to make sure that you were real . he’s panting , shaking . pulling back to look over your face , eyes searching yours , pleading to know where you were , why you left . why you didn’t tell him . he’s torn between laughing and crying when you say you’d only been delivering lunch to luda . he shakes his head , tugging you to his chest and falling back to the ground for some rest . please don’t do something like that again , y/n . thomas doesn’t know if he could take another scare like that . 

brahms

fear . abandonment . pain . suffering . anger . you must have left when he was sleeping , otherwise he wouldn’t of ever let you leave without begging and forcing promises from you . making you swear that you’d come back , and even then he would have clung to you desperately . but you’d left when brahms was sleeping . and he had no idea where you were , if you were coming back . he stalks to the walls and halls , he shouts and screams and yells . breaking mirrors and furniture , raiding your room and ripping through your closet , through you dresser , trying to find proof that you would be coming back . he clings to these garments , trying to all but suffocate himself in them . 

that’s how you find him . house in disarray , torn apart . brahms passed out on your bed form sobbing , clinging to your clothes like a life line . wake him up gently , kissing the top of his head as you stroke his arm . he’ll start crying again when he sees you , clinging and telling you how scared he was , begging you not to ever leave him again . seeing the man so broken , so vulnerable and desperate makes going out to buy christmas presents seen like a bad idea . 

michael 

he always knows where you are . he follows you . stalks you . obsesses over you . in the house . out of the house . he’s a constant in your life . but . . . there are times when michael is out spending his time stalking prey , taking lives , reveling in his blood lust . and those times are the ones when you come and go as you please , without the constant gaze on your back . and it’s those times that you try and treat yourself . it’s a breath of fresh air , and you’d been hoping for one of these little moments . so with a giddy face you decided that you were going to spend some of your saved money and spoiling yourself in the next town over . you just had to make it back before michael , which should be evening , a little after you usually make dinner . but michael came home before that . 

the eerie quiet of the house had him on high alert . your shoes , your keys , your car all gone . but it didn’t look like you packed any clothes . it didn’t look like you were trying to run away from him . which was a point in your direction . but the fact you left no note , the fact you left at all without michael’s permission or acknowledgement countered it . he waits . he worries , not that he’ll ever admit to it . unmoving eyes  , cold and hard set , he glares at the door . it’s been hours . past the time dinner was made . past the time michael would usually come into the house to eat and wash and then sit and stare at the tv with you while you talked idly into his ear . it was late . and you weren’t home yet . his worry and concern grow , fueling the anger he felt for the entire situation . it didn’t matter where you were . or how long you were gone . you could have came home the minute after michael realized you were gone , and it would have lead to the same thing .

the lights of your car shown through the curtained window . the engine turned off . the sound of your keys at the door . he waited . knowing full and well you weren’t going to make a mistake like this again . 

jesse

the man has cameras everywhere . he’s always watching in some way or another , or if he’s not watching he certainly can see what you’re up to . at least in his own house . he hadn’t been able to talk you into setting up a security system in your apartment yet . honestly he hasn’t been able to talk you into letting him get you a better apartment . and right now he doesn’t know which he needs to take care of first . especially seeing as you weren’t home , truck missing , and weren’t answering your phone . it irritated him . you couldn’t be stupid enough to be cheating on him , but why else would you be ignoring him . he’d only texted seventy times in the last three hours . only called you fifty two - and he was mute . he wouldn’t have been able to say shit , but dammit you could of at least answered ! it’s only fifteen minutes later when he’s telling spann to get to work on finding you . 

it’s an hour and a half later that jesse sees your name pop up on his phone , an incoming call . he answer’s it before it can go through a full ring , silent on his ends as you start talking , apologizing . your phone had died half way through your drive . they needed another worker at a store a towns away and you’d taken the shift last minute . you’d left this morning , running a bit late and forgot to text him . jesse can only breath slow and deep , trying to calm himself . trying not to be angry . it was a stupid mistake on your part . a very stupid mistake . 

he listens as you continue to talk , knowing you will stay on the line till you get home , knowing you already know he’s waiting outside . its’ something the two of you are going to have to have a talk about . this cannot and will not happen again .  he really should have installed a tracker in your phone .

billy & stu

it’s a classic case of “ i thought they were with you ” . it was more their fault for not checking in with you . more their fault for believing you had no life outside of them . why would you ever not be at home ? or with one of them ? but you were with neither . you were out with your family . a little get together that you did once every few months , driving to the city and eating at some random fancier version of ihop or denny’s . it was such a common occurrence that you hadn’t thought to tell either of the boys where you went , or that you were going . but you were sure they’d be fine . after all , they never really seemed bored so long as they had each other . 

billy and stu don’t even realize you’re gone . not at all . they don’t notice until they meet up that night , planning on doing some ghostface fun , when they start talking . and then they go quiet . neither had seen you . or talked to you . suddenly shocked by the fact you had not in fact been with them , they make breakneck speed to your house , climbing up the side wall and trying to force themselves into you room at the same time . you almost laugh as they come stumbling in , asking what was up . 

they won’t admit to having accidentally misplacing you for the day . but they will ask what you spent your time doing . and ask that you tell them if you are spending a day alone or with one of them . not for any reason . not really . 

[automaticneon]

Clouds

Chapter 1: Automatic Love (NSFT)

Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader

Summary: “When desires go unfulfilled, they turn into needs”

Clouds is the most technologically advanced dollhouse in Madripoor. It’s a void for people to escape into, or at least the lucky few that can afford to visit. 

And Zemo is very lucky.

The reader meets a strange new client, a man of mystery and poetic language and when she uncovers a secret most valuable to Helmut Zemo, their relationship goes from professional to something much more profound.

A/N: It’s essentially a Cyberpunk AU, but you don’t need to know a thing about the game! I’ve just borrowed the names of locations and the concept of Clouds. The reader is essentially a high clas s*x worker, if that isn’t your cup of tea, this probably isn’t the fic for you!

If this was high-end, there was no way to tell.

At least that’s what Zemo thinks as his car pulls up outside the mega-building. It’s an unsightly structure but not uncommon for this area of Madripoor, about fifty-storey’s tall and covered in vibrant LED screens.

For a minute he considers instructing his driver to take him back to his apartment in high-town so he can pretend this never happened. He had been averse to this idea already, but a friend from his military days had been convinced he should try coming here. “It’s cutting-edge” is what he had been told, but what exactly cutting-edge meant was a mystery to Zemo.

“Would you like me to wait for you, Sir?” the driver asks, snapping Zemo out of his thoughts.

The baron swipes his hand over his face, taking one last look at the building outside the window before responding.

“No, I’ll call when I’m done.”

He reckons his driver knows what he’s doing here. Mega-building H8 was known for only one thing, its position on the layline between high and low town meant it was frequented by all wealthy inhabitants of Madripoor. Mobsters and politicians alike congregated at this monster of architecture, hopeful of its contents and desperate to go unrecognised.

And now they can add a Baron to that list of unfortunates, Zemo thinks with resignation.

He leaves the car before the embarrassment can fester in his chest.

 The building is worse up close than at a distance.

Climbing the flight of concrete stairs Zemo is transported from the sidewalk and into the belly of the beast. The entrance to the megabuilding is a low-ceilinged sprawl of street-vendors and food stalls. It’s loud and busy, but Zemo has no problem blending into the crowd. He weaves through the stream of people, illuminated by neon signs that grow increasingly vulgar in their images the deeper into the building he moves.

Eventually, towards the back of the building, he finds the metal gates of an industrial-style elevator. He slides the grate open and steps inside to find the space is lit by multiple illuminated advertisement screens rotating through various commercials, each more obscene than the last. For a moment Zemo takes the moral high ground, musing with distaste about the sort of men these adverts are geared towards. He takes the moral high ground until he remembers what he has come here to do. Defeatedly he admits to himself he has no right to feel lofty.

The illuminated keypad flashes at him, and he reaches out to input his destination.

 Floor 12 – CLOUDS

 The elevator is slow as it climbs past the levels of cheap apartments and eventually comes to stop at level 12. As Zemo goes to open the grate again, he wonders if he’ll be greeted by some of that high-class sophistication he was promised.

He is not.

This floor is much like the entrance hall, only this time it’s a balcony that wraps around the interior of the mega-building and faces down into an open-air atrium. Zemo notices that the elevator he steps out of does not go any higher than this level, the floors above must be the luxury apartments and must have their own entrance.  He begins to follow the neon signs again.

“I don’t get why you’re so hung up about this?” A man near him says to his friend. Zemo bristles at the strong American accent, but carefully allows himself to eavesdrop.

“I don’t know, man,” The friend responds “It just feels wrong, you know? Like I’ll be cheating on my girl with one of these dolls”

“But that’s just it! These girls are dolls, man. They’re not real. It’s like sleeping with a blow-up-doll. No difference”

“You know that’s not true; the difference is they’re real. They’re made of flesh.”

“That’s what makes them great though. They’re dolls made of flesh.”

Zemo moves on before he can hear anymore.

He follows the signs until he reaches a wide hallway into the building, and there at the end is the rather simple looking entrance to Clouds dollhouse. The low ceiling of the hallway allows for little decoration, but he supposes a place with such an infamous reputation needs little in terms of advertisement. Soft pink neon signs flash the name of the establishment, and beside the double glass doors a glitchy hologram of a woman dances away. As he approaches, a pre-recorded voice rings out from a speaker at the base of the hologram.

“Looks like you could use a little automatic love.”

He refuses to acknowledge the projection.

Inside clouds is arguably worse than outside. The hallway is lined with tattered posters and it smells of something cheap and artificial. When Zemo enters the small, empty reception the lady behind the desk looks up with a smile.

“Welcome to clouds, where we always know what you’re looking for.”

  -

 None of you can hear a thing from the changing room.

“Do you think he’ll fire her?”

“I’m not sure. Depends how angry the client was,”

“Shut up I’m trying to hear,”

The room falls silent as Divine presses her ear to the door.

Moments ago the dressing room had been full of the usual chatter as you and the other dolls prepared for the evening shift. There was nothing to indicate the night would be anything but normal, that was until a few minutes ago when Woodman, the caretaker of dolls, had knocked furiously at the door and demanded that Azure come to his office down the hall for an immediate meeting.

“Is it just Woodman?” you ask. Azure could be abrasive at times, but she was certainly one of you favourite colleagues and you desperately wanted her to avoid being fired by management.

“I think so. I can’t hear anyone else.” Divine says, leaning back from the door.

“She’ll be fine, I’m sure,” one of the other dolls assures the room “She’s been here the longest. If they haven’t fired her yet, I doubt they ever will.”

“True. We can’t let this ruin a good Friday night. Five minutes until we need to be out in the booths, girls” Divine announces, and promptly returns to her table to finish her makeup.

Moments before the timer goes off the dressing room door flies open, and Azure stalks back to her table in silence. She’s not upset, but you can see the frustration hidden behind a poor attempt at offhand indifference. You want to ask if she’s alright, but the aggressive way she’s searching through her desk drawer makes you think it’s better to leave her be. The other girls do the same, cautiously looking over at her but making no attempt at conversation.

When the timer rings out you take one final sip of water and head to the door, grabbing the key-card for booth three as you leave.

 - 

“Welcome to clouds, where we always know what you’re looking for.”

The pink light of the glowing reception desk illuminates her face from below. That, combined with her uncomfortably bright smile makes the receptionist look like some sort of robot from a sci-fi film. Zemo lets out an amused huff at the very ambitious welcome promise.

“With all due respect, how could you know exactly what it is I want.”

“Clouds always knows. Your deepest desire – we find it. You’ll have your needs fulfilled – and maybe much more. ‘Less’ is not a word we use around here.” The receptionist replies.

“And how is that supposed to work then,” Zemo questions with a tilt of his head.

“Our algorithm searches your social media. With your permission it will create a personal profile based on any information if can gather, including personal preferences for you partners appearance. The algorithm will then select a doll for you, and create an experience based off that information.,” She slides a form across the desk “of course we ensure this is entirely confidential, this form confirms our promise.”

“I’ll admit I’m impressed. However I do not have a social media presence I’m afraid.” Zemo responds.

He couldn’t lie, the process seemed interesting. It was obviously a successfully programmed algorithm if the establishment had such a strong reputation. He found himself for the first time tonight not entirely doubting his choice to come here. He was interested to see what they would do for his situation.

“In that case I’ll have to ask you a few general questions to select a doll for you. If you are unsatisfied with their performance, you’ll be entitled to a refund at the end of the session.”

The receptionist begins to read a series of questions from her computer screen, gender preferences, what sort of experience he’s looking for. She concludes with organising payment, and the price is eyewatering even with the slight discount she applies since they cannot use the algorithm. When all is paid and signed for, the receptionist asks for a safe word. Admittedly it throws Zemo for a minute.

“It’s company policy” she says.

“Pontiac” he says bluntly, after a moment of thought.

“Fantastic.” The receptionist enters his response to the computer “Welcome to clouds. Serenity will be waiting for you in booth three.”

Zemo passes through another set of double doors and finds himself in a labyrinth of pink lights. The walls are lined with black, opaque glass and every so often a blue neon number protrudes from the wall indicates the booth behind it.

It doesn’t take long for him to find booth three, but he pauses before pressing the button to open the door. He takes a breath, collects his thoughts and lets his head and shoulders drop. He doesn’t want to look at his reflection in the tinted glass. Five years ago the thought of coming to a place like this would never have touched his mind, even in his questionable youth he had always been opposed these places. The risk that they were run unethically was far too great for his conscience. But he was not the man he was five years ago. Since Sokovia he wondered if he had a conscience at all anymore.

He presses the button, and the glass panel slides open.

It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the room. It’s dimly lit, faint blue and purple lights shine against the walls that are lined with the same dark, opaque glass as outside. There’s a chic, white sofa against the left wall, and against the right is a simple bed.

Sat atop it, kneeling with her thighs spread and covered by a short black night dress is the prettiest girl he’s seen in years.

 - 

He’s handsome, is the first thing you think when the glass door slides open.

It’s rare that you ever receive a client you’re inclined to call attractive, even the most conventionally attractive men that come here bring with them such a foul soul that it taints their appearance. Not this man, though.

He’s smartly dressed in dark trousers and a well-fitting grey jumper. His hair is styled nicely, it’s either brown or very dark blond (you can’t tell in the coloured lighting). He carries himself well, but after a year of working here you’ve grown accustomed to seeing through the façade’s of your clients. He’s apprehensive. Unsure if he belongs here. Hesitant.

“You must be Helmut. It’s nice to meet you,”

You try to make your voice sound soft and gentle, cocking your head to one side to beckon him in. You get the sense he wants something authentic, or at least that’s what his profile had said when it was sent through from reception moments ago. No porn-star moans or obscene pick-up lines tonight.

He collects himself, and the harsh line his lips have been pressed into relaxes as he enters the room. The glass panel slides shut, trapping the two of you in the bubble of the booth. It’s tranquil. You think he must need that.

“And you must be ‘Serenity’” He responds, crossing the room to sit on the sofa. His eyes don’t leave you as your ‘name’ rolls of his tongue with amusement. You can hear the next question in your head before he even opens his mouth again.

“So what’s your real name?”

They always ask you that. They ask every doll that. The clients are desperate to form a connection with you. To brag to their friends that they have a special relationship with a doll at clouds. You’ve never told anyone your real name before, it’s against company policy. Clouds attracts the rich of Madripoor, and rich in Madripoor usually means dangerous. It’s for your own protection more than anything else, you really don’t need work following you home.

You picked a name the day you were hired and that’s the name every client has known you by. This man will be no different. You begin your usual response:

“A name is a name, Helmut. A title. An advertisement of who you are. I want my name to tell you exactly who I am, so that you can know everything about me. I want to bring you peace.”

He adjusts his hips and rests his arms across the back of the sofa. He regards you quietly, and you’re positive he can tell that your response was a deflection. His eyes squint slightly, and a flash of humour appears in his dark pupils.

“Well I hardly think that’s fair. You get to call me by my name, but I don’t get to know yours?” He lets out a huff of laughter “Actually, I don’t think I’ll let you use my name. We should be equals, should we not?”

You admit you’re enjoying this. The smooth accent and playful tone of his voice keeps you interested. You swing your feet around so that you’re sat facing him on the bed, reclining back on your palms to match his casual stance.

“What should I call you then?”

“You said a name is just a title. So then my title can become my name. You can call be Baron, Serenity” He says your name like it’s some sort of inside joke, taunting you to give up and tell him who you really are. You won’t be so easily swayed.

“So what’s a Baron doing in Madripoor then?” You say with genuine curiosity. If it weren’t for the NDA’s you’re forced to sign you would be buzzing to tell the other girls who you’re spending the night with. You can’t imagine that aristocracy visits this place frequently. “And do you drink?”

“I do, thank you” he says, and you hop down from the bed and walk to the low table in front of the sofa that carries a few glasses and a bottle of expensive-looking alcohol. You know he’s looking at the satin hem of the night dress as it tickles to top of your thighs, and when you bend down to pour him a glass, you make sure he gets a tasteful peak at your cleavage.

“I’m here to work, actually.”

Did aristocrats work? You thought they were just for show.

“I’m… translating some documents. It’s taking me a very long time,” He continues, watching intently as you finish preparing his drink.

“A Baron and a translator? Sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate” You loop around the table, perching beside him on the sofa and handing him his drink.

“It’s more of a personal project I suppose, but a very important one” he says, accepting the drink with his free hand. The one that rests behind you on the back of the sofa comes up to rest between your shoulder blades. It’s a very gentle touch, just the tips of his fingers making contact with yours skin and moving in a tiny little circle. He’s testing the waters with you, seeing how receptive you are. It’s almost gentlemanly.

“It must mean a great deal to you. We could talk about it, if you like? We can talk about anything you want to,” You reach up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck, enjoying how he melts into the action.

“Anything but your name?” He shoots you teasing look from the corner of his eye, and you give a little strand of his hair a small playful tug in response.

“Anything but that, Baron”

“Tell me something else about you. Like why you came to Madripoor, I can tell you weren’t born here.”

Jesus you can’t tell if this man is a pest or just being polite. It’s unusual for him to be asking these questions of you, most men would usually have you on your knees by now. You hum and give him one last stroke down the back of his neck, before climbing off the sofa and walking back towards the bed.

“Very perceptive. I’m not from Madripoor, no,” you crawl onto the bed, taking your time so that the baron can take a good look at where the night dress rides up over the curve of your ass “but we’ve only just met, and only my friends get to know my life story.”

You settle yourself comfortably at the top of the bed, lying down and propped up on your elbows so you can maintain the measured look he’s giving you.

“Perhaps I should come over there and get to know you better” he says calmly, with the barest hint of a suggestive undertone.

Thank god he’s dropped the topic of your true identity. You can handle sex; you don’t need an interrogation tonight. Slipping into character you drop your voice to a low whisper and cock your eyebrow.

“Perhaps you should”

The corner of his mouth twitches into a smile as he accepts your little challenge. In one fluid motion he downs the rest of his drink, places the empty glass back on the table, and rises to walk towards the bed. No, he stalks towards the bed with a natural swagger that admittedly makes your chest squeeze tight.

Within a second he’s onto you, slotting himself between your parted thighs and pressing his lips to yours. Your baron kisses well, is the only thing you’re capable of thinking as he uses his body to push you down into the cushions. One of his hands slides up your body, skimming across your neck before coming to rest below your jaw. He doesn’t squeeze, just gently holds you in place so that he can kiss you how he pleases.

After a moment he tilts your head up slightly, pausing the kiss so he can look down at you. You reckon you look a picture of arousal, pupils blown and cheeks flushes as you catch your breath. Your baron seems to agree; he’s looking at you like the cat that caught the canary, and you shiver when his grip gets just a fraction tighter on your jaw.

“So pretty,” he praises quietly as he dips down to skim his lips over your pulse.

The tender pressure makes you whine and arch up beneath him and he acknowledges you with a hum and a hand on your breast. As he continues his assault on your neck, the free hand on your chest squeezes the flesh softly, finding your nipple beneath the silky fabric and circling it with his thumb.

When it pebbles to his satisfaction he pulls away and you keen at the loss of contact. He tuts, pulling down the straps of your nightgown and peeling it down below your chest, shuffling down slightly so that his face is level with your now exposed torso.

He breathes out against your nipple before latching onto it, with one hand he squeezes your neglected breast and the other slides from its place on your jaw to the base of your neck. Again he doesn’t squeeze, just exerts a level of control that lets you know where he wants you. If you wanted to you could break free, but why would you want that? The way his thumb begins to circle your pulse point has you practically melting into the bed, the thought of telling him to stop can barely manifest in your mind.

You reach down to dig your fingers into the baron’s back, instead only making contact with his expensive-feeling jumper. You huff in disappointment and pull him from where he’s entertaining himself with your tits, meeting his hazy eyes that are riddled with confusion.

“I thought we were trying to get familiar with one another?” you ask, and his eyebrows pinch in confusion “How are we supposed to do that when you’ve got so much between us?”

The baron’s face melts in amusement, and he reluctantly pulls himself away from you to pull the jumper off and start undressing fully. You take a moment to catch your breath, watching him peel away his clothes to reveal his impressive body. He’s slender but impeccably well-toned, his torso is covered by a light dusting of hair that leads your eyes down to the impressive bulge in his underwear.

Tonight should be very entertaining.

Your sit up, reaching out to run your hand down his chest but before you can begin to pull at the waistband of his underwear, his hand shoots out to grab your wrist.

“I don’t know where you think you were going, but I was quite enjoying myself” he says roguishly. He gathers both of your wrists into one hand and pins you pack against the bed, with both hands restrained you have no choice but to let him bury hid face into your neck again.

This time he uses his free hand to skim along the inside of your thigh, getting high enough that you think he’ll reach the apex between your legs but instead he trails his fingers back down towards your knee again.

You whine in frustration as he continues his cycle of teasing up and down your leg, he ignores you until you tug against his grip on your wrists. He makes a low noise and quickly tightens his hold on you. The sudden movement sends a chill down your spine, and for the first time in a long while, you feel genuinely inclined to beg a man.

“Please-” you breathe out shakily “I want-”

Your voice cuts off suddenly as his hand moves boldly to cup your pussy. You can hear how embarrassingly wet you are as his fingers move through your folds, and he hums happily when he finds your clit with his thumb. Slowly he circles it, applying just the right amount of pressure to have you wriggling in his grip.

“This? Is this what you want?” he asks, and his voice has dropped at least another octave.

You shake your head furiously. Right now this is just not enough, you can feel his dick rubbing against your leg and you’re beyond desperate to have him fuck you open with it.

“No?” he says with feigned innocence “What is it that you want then?”

“More” is all you can get out “I want you in me. I’m wet enough, see?”

Your baron seems unconvinced. He circles a finger around your entrance before pushing in, rocking it gently inside you as he tries to decide if he thinks you’re really ready. He continues for a moment more before adding a second finger, now with two fingers stuffed in you and his thumb still working on your clit you’re almost ready to cum. It’s making you desperate, and it doesn’t help at all when he buries his face in your tits again.

Finally he lets your wrists go and immediately your hands grab at whatever part of him they can, eventually you settle with gripping his shoulder and hair as you try desperately to urge him to fuck you. He gets you right to the edge, literal moments away from finishing on his fingers when he pulls them away from you with an obscenely wet noise.

You let out a frustrated, desperate whine as he separates from you. He looks down at you with satisfaction as he takes in your flustered state.

“Stay still, you’ll get what you want” he says, and he reaches for his pants to retrieve a condom. It takes him a minute to pull himself free of his underwear and put the condom on. In your desperate state it feels like an eternity.

He positions himself between your legs, lifting the hem of the nightdress so he can get a good view of your pussy whilst he lines himself up. He pauses before he presses forward, looking up at you for any last-minute hesitation.

You nod your consent instantly, not trusting yourself to get any words out.

When he pushes in you think you might cum from that alone. He’s a perfect size, long enough that you feel as though you could feel him in your belly. When he finally bottoms out you can’t help but squeeze him tight, and he slumps over you, his face tucked into the side of your neck and swears in a language you don’t recognise. He nudges his hips forward as if to get deeper than he already is. The both of you gasp out at the sensation and he repeats it a few times, just the tiniest movements of his hips that causes him to rub against something deep inside you.

He pushes himself up on his forearms so that he can get a good look at you. In turn, you get to see the state of him as well – his eyes are impossibly dark and glazed over with something wildly lustful, his once pristine hair hangs dishevelled over his reddened forehead. Your baron’s lip curls wickedly as he sets a punishing pace, pushing you deeper into the sheets. It feels like he’s trying to fuck you through the bed.

His previous teasing had done a real number on you, and within minutes you’re moments away from cumming. You don’t think you could get much out of your mouth other than pathetic little whimpers right now, instead you reach up and pull the baron down for a deep kiss, one that he melts into fully.

When you do cum it’s fucking incredible. You’d never use a word that strong to describe a client before, but your baron brings with him many firsts for you. You cry out into his mouth as he picks up the pace to ride you through your high, your fingers dig into his shoulder so tightly you wonder if you’ve drawn blood. If you have, he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything it spurs him on as he fucks you to the point of oversensitivity.

He finishes just as you think you can’t handle anymore. His hips stutter momentarily, and tremors run down his spine in waves. The entire time he’s rambling in a foreign tongue against your skin until his pants of exhaustion overtake his ability to speak.

Your baron collapses on top of you but you hardly have the brainpower to care that he’s crushing you. Instead you reach up to run your fingers through his hair, listening to him as he catches his breath against your chest.

You yourself are struggling to even out your breathing, it feels as though you’ve run a marathon and the man on top of you seems thoroughly amused by that.

“Come now,” he says as he smooths a hand up your side “I wasn’t that good.”

You can hardly help the genuine laugh that escapes you.

“Humility doesn’t look good on you baron.”

The man in question huffs out a laugh before peeling himself away from your sweat-slicked body.

“I suppose I should make myself scarce. I imagine you have other, much more interesting clients to see tonight” he says, moving to sit on the side of the bed.

“You can stay and talk if you want, it’s entirely up to you. You paid for this, after all.” You say, secretly hoping he’ll stay for just a minute longer. You don’t intend to entertain anyone else tonight, but part of you is quite intrigued by your newest client.

“Well in that case I have one final question I’d like to ask” he says as he slowly begins to dress himself again.

“Ask away.”

Once his trousers are securely over his hips he pauses to look at you. There’s a soft expression on his face, as if he already knows he’s not going to get the answer he wants.

“What’s your real name?”

You really shouldn’t be surprised that he’s asked again. Truthfully, it’s not the question itself that’s thrown you, it’s how tempted you are to answer it. His voice is so compelling at the moment that your name nearly springs from your tongue without you noticing.

“Oh baron,” you say quietly “you know I can’t tell you that.”

His lips press together in acceptance, and for a second his eyes leave yours. As he begins to get ready again, he gives his response.

“It was worth a shot.”

[slashersins-abandoned]

anonymous asked :

How would the slashers( whoever you would like to do) react to a s/o who left to do something but didn’t tell them.

jason

do not do this to jason . firstly , you don’t know the woods as well as jason . you have no idea how many or where the traps he has set up are . it’d be just so easy for a bear trap to snag your leg , sending you flying forward in pain and having your head bash against a rock . you could even be followed and hunted by a wild animal , ripe and ready to become their next meal . you could reach the same fate that had killed jason all those years ago and drown in the lake . or someone might come to camp and take you away . for the sake of your safety , do not go out into the forest alone . and for the sake of jason’s sanity , never leave without telling him . the panic and anguish he feels at finding you gone , the desperation and fear that beats against him is almost too much to for him . he’ll be tearing through the camp , wild and furious and desperate as he tries to pick up any trace of you , terror fueling every step , every breath he takes .

when he does find you , in the middle of some field with a book in your hands , looking lazy and happy … he’s torn between hugging you and shaking sense into you . he’ll collapse to his knees before you , tugging you into his large chest and holding you . he’ll try to convey to you that you cannot do this to him again . please . yn , please . he was so scared .

thomas

you weren’t in the house . thomas checked . he was used to seeing you sitting on the couch with monty , maybe finishing up cooking , or even sometimes doing the laundry when he came up for lunch . this time was different . the house was quiet . and tommy couldn’t find you in your usual spots . he’d grunted to monty , asking where you were only to get shut down with a “ i don’t know where the little bitch ran off to . maybe they finally up and left your ugly ass . ” those words angered him as much as they terrified him . he searched over the house , more panicked , stomping and tearing open every shut door . but you weren’t there . not in the house . not in the barn , not in any of the cars hidden out back . thomas even stomped over to henrietta’s , quite rudely bursting into the home to search for you , frantic . he ignored the woman’s gasps and shouting about him being a big brute , he had other things on his mind . there was only one place left to look . luda mae’s shop .

his body was screaming at him , the adrenaline pumping through him and keeping him going wearing out as he stomped ,doing his best to jog to the store . it’s when he’s half way there that he sees a figure in the distance . and the closer he gets the more he can make out . you . it’s you . it’s you , it’s you , it’s you . he’s running now , hot tears of relief welling in his eyes as he all but tackles you , pulling you into a tight embrace as his tired legs finally give you . he pulls away only to touch your face . to feel you . to make sure that you were real . he’s panting , shaking . pulling back to look over your face , eyes searching yours , pleading to know where you were , why you left . why you didn’t tell him . he’s torn between laughing and crying when you say you’d only been delivering lunch to luda . he shakes his head , tugging you to his chest and falling back to the ground for some rest . please don’t do something like that again , y/n . thomas doesn’t know if he could take another scare like that .

brahms

fear . abandonment . pain . suffering . anger . you must have left when he was sleeping , otherwise he wouldn’t of ever let you leave without begging and forcing promises from you . making you swear that you’d come back , and even then he would have clung to you desperately . but you’d left when brahms was sleeping . and he had no idea where you were , if you were coming back . he stalks to the walls and halls , he shouts and screams and yells . breaking mirrors and furniture , raiding your room and ripping through your closet , through you dresser , trying to find proof that you would be coming back . he clings to these garments , trying to all but suffocate himself in them .

that’s how you find him . house in disarray , torn apart . brahms passed out on your bed form sobbing , clinging to your clothes like a life line . wake him up gently , kissing the top of his head as you stroke his arm . he’ll start crying again when he sees you , clinging and telling you how scared he was , begging you not to ever leave him again . seeing the man so broken , so vulnerable and desperate makes going out to buy christmas presents seen like a bad idea .

michael

he always knows where you are . he follows you . stalks you . obsesses over you . in the house . out of the house . he’s a constant in your life . but … there are times when michael is out spending his time stalking prey , taking lives , reveling in his blood lust . and those times are the ones when you come and go as you please , without the constant gaze on your back . and it’s those times that you try and treat yourself . it’s a breath of fresh air , and you’d been hoping for one of these little moments . so with a giddy face you decided that you were going to spend some of your saved money and spoiling yourself in the next town over . you just had to make it back before michael , which should be evening , a little after you usually make dinner . but michael came home before that .

the eerie quiet of the house had him on high alert . your shoes , your keys , your car all gone . but it didn’t look like you packed any clothes . it didn’t look like you were trying to run away from him . which was a point in your direction . but the fact you left no note , the fact you left at all without michael’s permission or acknowledgement countered it . he waits . he worries , not that he’ll ever admit to it . unmoving eyes  , cold and hard set , he glares at the door . it’s been hours . past the time dinner was made . past the time michael would usually come into the house to eat and wash and then sit and stare at the tv with you while you talked idly into his ear . it was late . and you weren’t home yet . his worry and concern grow , fueling the anger he felt for the entire situation . it didn’t matter where you were . or how long you were gone . you could have came home the minute after michael realized you were gone , and it would have lead to the same thing .

the lights of your car shown through the curtained window . the engine turned off . the sound of your keys at the door . he waited . knowing full and well you weren’t going to make a mistake like this again .

jesse

the man has cameras everywhere . he’s always watching in some way or another , or if he’s not watching he certainly can see what you’re up to . at least in his own house . he hadn’t been able to talk you into setting up a security system in your apartment yet . honestly he hasn’t been able to talk you into letting him get you a better apartment . and right now he doesn’t know which he needs to take care of first . especially seeing as you weren’t home , truck missing , and weren’t answering your phone . it irritated him . you couldn’t be stupid enough to be cheating on him , but why else would you be ignoring him . he’d only texted seventy times in the last three hours . only called you fifty two - and he was mute . he wouldn’t have been able to say shit , but dammit you could of at least answered ! it’s only fifteen minutes later when he’s telling spann to get to work on finding you .

it’s an hour and a half later that jesse sees your name pop up on his phone , an incoming call . he answer’s it before it can go through a full ring , silent on his ends as you start talking , apologizing . your phone had died half way through your drive . they needed another worker at a store a towns away and you’d taken the shift last minute . you’d left this morning , running a bit late and forgot to text him . jesse can only breath slow and deep , trying to calm himself . trying not to be angry . it was a stupid mistake on your part . a very stupid mistake .

he listens as you continue to talk , knowing you will stay on the line till you get home , knowing you already know he’s waiting outside . its’ something the two of you are going to have to have a talk about . this cannot and will not happen again .  he really should have installed a tracker in your phone .

billy & stu

it’s a classic case of “ i thought they were with you ” . it was more their fault for not checking in with you . more their fault for believing you had no life outside of them . why would you ever not be at home ? or with one of them ? but you were with neither . you were out with your family . a little get together that you did once every few months , driving to the city and eating at some random fancier version of ihop or denny’s . it was such a common occurrence that you hadn’t thought to tell either of the boys where you went , or that you were going . but you were sure they’d be fine . after all , they never really seemed bored so long as they had each other .

billy and stu don’t even realize you’re gone . not at all . they don’t notice until they meet up that night , planning on doing some ghostface fun , when they start talking . and then they go quiet . neither had seen you . or talked to you . suddenly shocked by the fact you had not in fact been with them , they make breakneck speed to your house , climbing up the side wall and trying to force themselves into you room at the same time . you almost laugh as they come stumbling in , asking what was up .

they won’t admit to having accidentally misplacing you for the day . but they will ask what you spent your time doing . and ask that you tell them if you are spending a day alone or with one of them . not for any reason . not really .

[animeheadcannoncentral]

NSFW ENJI (Endeavor) X READER ONESHOT

Business/CEO A/B/O AU - this just popped into my head and turned into a 10 Chapter fic you can read on Ao3: “Hidden Flowers”

Warnings: smut, Dom Enji, sub reader, rough sex, A/B/O dynamics, alpha Enji, omgega reader, alpha Toshinori, heat cycles, dirty talk

Words: 5k

(Y/N) checked her emails one final time, ensuring nothing new had come through in the last three minutes that needed her boss’s attention. She picked up the file she had organised for the day, shuffling the papers into a neat stack before rising to her feet, straightening out her clothes and marching towards the CEO’s office. She opened the door without knocking, an action that he had told her to forego many years ago, she was his secretary after all, if she had something urgent to tell him, there was no point in wasting time knocking on the door. And he also didn’t need to burden of someone knocking on his door fifty times a day. The red head was on the phone when she entered, this scene wasn’t uncommon, some days he scarcely got away from the damn thing.

Closing the door behind her, she walked up to his desk and placed the pile of papers down on his right before walking to a white board and started neatly writing out the day’s major meetings.

“I don’t care about the cost, how long will it take to get it up and running again?” Enji sighed into the phone as he noted down the time frame.

“Is there another company that can fix it faster?” she turned back and saw he was looking at her. He’d asked both her and the person on the other end of the call, he just knew she’d come up with a solution faster.

“Mack Plus have the best engineers, Trencher Co. will be quickest but they fixed that unit previously and it’s broken again, I would suggest Wheels Down Inc as nothing they’ve fixed has broken again and it will be fixed within the week” she spilled out, she’d read the email about the mining vehicle break down this morning and immediately looked at the data for previous break downs. The man nodded and wrote it down, whilst also rolling his eyes at whoever was on the other end of the call.

“(Y/N) will send through contact details for further correspondence with Wheels Down Inc, let me know once the machine’s operating again” and the CEO hung up.

“Fucking useless” Enji muttered as he started going through his emails, “got any good news?” he asked.

“Stocks are up again today?” she tried which resulted in a small smirk from him.

“And you only have one meeting currently locked in today as well, however it is with a major shipping company that we’ve been trying to create a deal with for the past five years” she frowned a little at the last part.

“I said good new (Y/N), not mediocre news” he sighed.

“It’s their new CEO, so I guess a new chance to make good impressions” she tried again.

“That’s why I’m putting you on the front line”

“I’ll do my best Sir” putting the whiteboard marker down and turning back to him.

“Have you found anything of use in Yagi’s background?” he asked as he started going through the files she had left on his desk.

“Nothing of particular use. The problem is he seems completely different to his father, since he’s taken leadership, the company has become heavily involved in charity work. Regardless of whether it was his intention or not, the shipping company has gained a huge amount of positive press. I found nothing on Yagi himself, the only thing you can really play into in this deal is the ‘make the world a better place’ because even after a deep dive on his history, I couldn’t find anything to suggest he wants anything else” she explained with a shrug.

“How do our eco stats look?” he questioned.

“Favourable, we’ve cut emissions by seventy-five percent with the new machine’s we’re using, and with the new sonar tech that’s been implemented we’ve reduced habitat loss due to our companies’ procedures by nearly ninety percent. The rest of the report is on page five” she was confident as he went through the papers and pulled out the report.

“Increase public profile” the red head raised an eyebrow at the short list of suggestions she had made.

“It can’t hurt Sir, becoming more involved with the local community could see a potential increase of upwards of twenty percent in sales”.

“At what cost?” he put the paper aside, knowing she would be able to give him a clearer answer than the document.

“Time, funding, man power” she was curt, the CEO didn’t like wishy washy explanations.

“The board won’t like that” it was a statement.

“Can’t make an omelette and all that” she shrugged and he eyed her. She had never been wrong when it came to giving suggestions or advice on what was best for the company. She would voice her opinion on occasion, when she knew she was completely in the right. It was one of the many reasons Enji kept her as his secretary and refused to promote her to a section manager, not to mention the ridiculous bonuses that he forked out to her at the end of each year for her work. She were too goddamn valuable, and unlike many of his employees, she wasn’t afraid of him. The alpha was used to people grovelling at his feet, begging and pleading for whatever it was that they wanted at the time, usually sex or money, even employment. Enji Todoroki was one of the strongest alpha’s out there, hell, he was so intoxicating some alphas had even begged him to use them. But she wasn’t like them, it was almost as if she couldn’t smell pheromones, he was almost convinced that she in fact couldn’t, going by the amount that he had released around her in the beginning to test her.

When he’d first met her, he was shocked by her professionalism, she didn’t seem to care that he was an alpha and she wasn’t deterred when he borderline threatened her during the job interview. Hell, he didn’t even know what her secondary gender was, her CV states that she’s a beta, but the way she acted sometimes, she could convince anyone she was born an alpha. She wouldn’t take shit from anyone, and she certainly wouldn’t let him dish it out to her either, or if he did, she’d give it straight back and usually be right, and always got away with it. It’s why he respected her so much and hadn’t tried to come onto her once, also because he was more attracted to submissives, and she were far from it. She took suppressants, that much he was sure off, she never smelled like anything, and she didn’t give off any scent at all, ever.

“When’s the meeting?” he asked.

“In thirty minutes” she said as she turned to leave.

“You better get to it then” he mused.

“You don’t have to tell me twice” she gave a small smile and then exited the room. She made her way down to the lobby of the building to greet Mr Yagi on his arrival, just in case he was early. And wouldn’t you know it, this ball of sunshine was always early. He walked through the front doors to the building not two minutes after she had walked out of the elevator. She lifted her shoulders, stood up straight and approached the man with confidence.

“Mr Yagi, I’m (Y/N), Mr Todoroki’s secretary, it’s an honour to meet you” she put on a bright smile upon reaching him and what must have been his secretary. It wasn’t until she reached them that she realised how god damn tall the man was in person. Sure, Enji was tall, but for some reason, this man’s height stuck out to her. And they were both businessmen, so how the fuck did they both luck out in the looks, smarts, height and muscles departments?! It just wasn’t fair. Forget about triple threat, these men were quadruple threats. They covered all fronts.

Then to her surprise, he actually offered her a hand to shake with a genuine smile.

“Thank you for greeting us, this is my secretary Izuku, we’re so glad Enji was kind enough to host this meeting” his voice was deep, but kind and polite as she shook his hand, referring to the greenette beside him. She glanced at the young man before returning her attention back to the alpha in front of her.

She had never met a business partner this kind-hearted before, the business world didn’t usually allow his kind to thrive, but here he was, the CEO of the world leading shipping company. Without even realising it her cheeks flushed a light shade of red and she felt her heart rate increase, and of course, her scent glands started aching as they tried to release pheromones. Luckily, her suppressants were working for now, but it was then that she caught his scent, everything went blurry for a second and she lost focus.

“Are you alright Ms (Y/N)?” he asked, gently stabilizing her by her shoulders. She cursed herself, why did her body have to react to an alpha now of all times?

“I’m so sorry, Mr Yagi, and (Y/N) is just fine” she smiled up at him, puffing out her chest a bit and stabilising her footing.

“Please, call me Toshinori” he corrected her and she was slightly stunned for a moment. Every single business partner she’d ever introduced had always treated her like trash on the side walk, scarcely giving her the time of day. She’d be lucky if she even got a grunt of acknowledgment from them.

“If you’d kindly follow me” she said and turned to lead the way. Taking the chance to scoff at herself and attempt to pull herself together, an attempt that miserably failed when Mr Yagi insisted on maintaining small talk then entire elevator ride. He was just being a human being, asking how her day was going, how long she’s been working at the company, if she enjoyed working here. She could feel her temperature rising with each question he asked, and pain started erupting in her abdomen.

“Please follow me” she said politely, stepping out of the elevator cursing herself, she was going into her heat early, and she was pretty damn sure it was because of the presence of this alpha. She guided the CEO and his secretary to an empty meeting room.

“Please wait in here for just a moment, Mr Todoroki will join you shortly” she said before closing the door. Her head was starting to spin and the pain was growing from annoying to uncomfortable ridiculously fast. She maintained her composure as she walked into her small office, quickly taking some pain killers with half a litre of water. She ruffled through her draws as she looked for her EpiPen, her heart skipping a beat when she couldn’t find it. She knew she had one here for emergencies. The omega let out a sigh of relief when her hand glided over it. Quickly removing the cap and injecting herself with more suppressors that would hopefully stop the effects of her early oncoming heat for at least the next few hours. She took three deep breaths before exiting her office and entering Enji’s.

As soon as the door opened, a wave of pheromones hit the CEO. His brow furrowed in anger. His employees knew better than to come to work during rutting or heat cycles, it decreased everyone’s productivity.

“Get the fuck out of…” his eyes had been fixed on the computer when he glanced at the intruder. “…(Y/N)?” he looked taken aback. There was no way she was an omega. She always held herself like an alpha, how the hell was this strong, independent woman a fucking omega? However, he couldn’t deny that her scent was causing blood to flow straight to his cock.

“But you’re not supposed to be off til next week” he went to check his calendar.

“I know, it’s come on early” she let out a stuttered sigh as the drugs finally started to set in.

“I’ve taken some emergency suppressors, my hormones should level out in the next minute or so. I um, Toshi… I mean, Mr Yagi and his secretary are in the meeting room” she shook her head at herself. It was then that everything clicked for Enji and a smile crossed his face as he rose from his seat.

“He’s sent you into an early heat, hasn’t he?” the alpha’s voice was low, but there was a hint of playfulness behind it. She ground her teeth, refusing to answer the question, instead choosing to look away. He approached her, a smirk still playing on his lips, instead of walking through the door, he shut it, as he caged her between his arms.

“You know better than to not respond when I ask you a question, omega” he let the work hang in the air, testing her boundaries. Her brow furrowed and she glared up at him.

“You don’t get to call me that” she growled at him, then noticing that he was purposely releasing pheromones to try and rile her up. If she hadn’t just shot herself up with enough suppressants for a week, she would probably have slick running down to her ankles by now. Her boss was unfairly attractive.

“Answer the question (Y/N)” he leaned close to whisper into her ear.

“So, what if he has?” she burst out, ducking out from under his arms and walking across the room, folding her arms, “All he did was smile at me and I lose control, what the fuck is wrong with me?” she sighed angrily rubbing her temples.

“When was the last time you properly went through a heat?” Enji asked her, she looked back at him to see a genuinely concerned face. When she had taken her mandatory time off for her mating cycle she never stopped responding to emails, most people wouldn’t touch their computers during the height of a mating cycle, it all became too much, but she was always online, which told him that she probably hadn’t let her body go through a normal cycle in a while.

“I don’t know, during high school, like eight or nine years ago” she shrugged and the CEO just blinked at her in shock.

“I had more important things on my mind” she shied away from his judging look.

“That’s still a long time” he pushed.

“It’s not like I had an alpha to help me through one!” she suddenly shouted at him, she stared him down for a moment before realising what she’d just said and who she had just said it to.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, that’s not your fault, nor something you should worry about, fuck I hate this” she muttered.

“(Y/N), be honest with me, have you ever been through a proper heat?” he asked, when she turned to him this time, there was nothing but concern in his face.

“No” she didn’t make eye contact with him, but she had no reason to lie to him. Enji hated how submissive she was being, this wasn’t her at all, while a dark part of him did want her begging for his cock, he hated seeing her looking so vulnerable, he wanted to protect her, to make her feel safe.

“Look, I’m going to be really selfish now, but if you think you can handle staying for the meeting then I could really use your help. If not, I’m also more than happy for you to go home. But you’re going home before lunch today either way and I strongly advise you don’t take any more suppressants” he paused for a moment, as if trying to word something correctly, “What I’m about to say, I’m saying as a friend, not your boss, if you need help getting through it, i can help you. But who knows, maybe you might actually be able to get his number and he can help you” the alpha growled slightly at that last part, admitting and acknowledging that he wasn’t the one to set off your heat. Although to be fair, he hadn’t purposefully released any pheromones around you since you had your job interview with him. The girl let out a sigh and composed herself, straightening out her shoulders.

“I’m staying for the meeting” he knew she would, “but I am not going through a full heat” she said firmly, walking past him.

“(Y/N)!” he was about to say more, but she had already walked out the door, heading towards the meeting room. She opened the door and put a smile on.

“So sorry to keep you waiting” she apologised.

“That’s quite alright” Toshinori smiled back at her, however he noticed that she was no longer producing the lovely pheromones that he knew he had set off. Was the girl taking suppressors? He was certain he had set off an early heat, that fact that she was supressing it frustrated him. He loved seeing a flustered omega, especially one who was normally kept together as this one appeared to be. She was going to pose a challenge, and Toshinori was going to have fun pulling her apart and turning her into his little slut. The thought had him half hard in his pants. This omega was going to belong to him, one way or another.

Enji followed her into the room. The two CEO’s shook hands and introduced themselves to each other before commencing the meeting. (Y/N) was a sharp as ever, handing Enji the correct documents when they came up in conversation and was able to provide any information when called upon. Izuku wasn’t as sharp as she was, but still maintained a professional standard and look about him, the boy certainly didn’t let the woman’s sheer dominance fluster him. The meeting went as well as it could have, they both signed a contract of partnership, so it went better than both parties were expecting. Seeing her in action just made Toshinori want her more. She was professional, sharp and confident, and he wanted to be the one to own her, to see her trembling underneath him, begging for his cock. Somehow, all four of them managed to remain professional throughout the entire meeting, there were no sly words with hidden meaning, and (Y/N) was thankful for that.

Enji Todoroki was never one to escort his guests out himself, it just wasn’t a thing that he did. So, he left the meeting as he usually would with a ‘pleasure doing business with you’, but he purposefully changed the wording on the following sentence ‘my secretary will get you anything you need before you go’. She burned holes into his back as he exited the room. She was going to kill him. The next morning’s headlines would read, ‘Secretary jailed for attempted murder of her boss’. She sighed, shaking her head slightly.

“Midoriya, go wait outside, I’ll be down shortly, I just need to go over a few things with (Y/N) before we leave” the tall blonde uttered to his secretary.

“Of course Sir” the boy said before he exited the room. Toshinori’s eyes didn’t leave (Y/N)’s, who still had her business face on. He couldn’t read her. This was going to make things more difficult. After seeing her in action, he wanted her even more, and without even realising it, his pheromones radiated off him. But she was acting as if she couldn’t sense them, which pissed him off.

“What can I help you with, Sir?” she asked, her tonne polite, but holding no emotion behind it. Unlike their first interaction where she put on a sweet, warm smile for him, she was bitterly cold now, purposely trying to shut him out.

“I don’t like corporate titles, I told you to call me by my first name” he sighed, rising form where he was sitting, she was going to be more of a challenge then he originally thought. That was fine, he was actually excited.

“Is there anything I can get you, Toshinori” she said softly, not removing herself from her seat as the man walked around the table removing something from his pocket. He handed the small piece of paper to her.

“You seem like a very professional woman, so I hope you don’t take offense to this, but here’s my number, I’d love to catch up for a coffee sometime” he said with a smile and she took the paper from him carefully, the man was letting off an absurd amount of pheromones which were causing her to literally burn off the suppressants she’d taken no more than two hours ago.

“I…uh…” she tried to respond, but the alpha gripped onto the side of her chair, leaning over her to whisper in her ear.

“Let me know if you need any help with your heat, something tells me you’ve never had an alpha look after you properly before” he growled lowly in his chest before pulling away and walking out of the room with a smirk on his face.

Once she finally recovered, she heaved herself out of the chair and found that her panties were completed soaked through, luckily it hadn’t yet soaked through to her actual pants yet. She made a quick dash to her office before closing the door behind her. She turned the internal heater on and grabbed the emergency blanket from the bottom draw, wrapping it around herself and hiding in a bundle under the desk with her laptop as she continued to work, hoping it would distract her from the slick pool that was growing around her cunt and the immense pain growing in her lower abdomen. At about three in the afternoon an email came into the inbox that needed the CEO’s immediate attention. She was too worn out by that stage to register that he had told her to go home and she probably shouldn’t be working at all. She flicked the email to him without a second thought.

Upon receiving said email, Enji’s brow furrowed, she should have been home by now. He quickly opened the door to his office just to check she had in fact gone home, letting out a low growl when he noticed her light was still on. He stormed across the corridor and opened the door, a wave of sickly sweet pheromones hitting him all at once. He was confused when he didn’t see her sitting at the desk, she had to be in the room, there was no way the place smelled this sweet without her being in there. He closed the door behind him and walked around the desk to find her nesting. His first thought was to yell at her for not listening to him and also for using the goddamn office to nest. But then he saw she was shaking as she tried to type out an email, it took a moment for her to noticed him crouching there looking at her incredulously.

“I told you to go home” he rumbled deeply, and she winced.

“I… I can’t walk” she admitted, refusing to make eye contact with him. Something burned inside him, obviously that alpha had said something to her to set her off again, and then just goddamn left her. It infuriated him, sure he’d done the same thing to plenty of omega’s before, but this was his…, no not his, this was (Y/N).

“I want you to send a message out to all staff working today and inform them that they can knock off” he said calmly. She was confused by the instruction, but took a minute to type out the message and sent it on his behalf.

“Now close the laptop and give it to me” he said gently, and she cautiously complied, handing him the laptop before he placed it on the desk over her.

“Come here” he motioned towards himself, and she went to move, but her eyes widened in panic and she returned to the way she was sitting, confusing the alpha who was doing everything in his power not to just grab her and knot her right there.

“If I move, it’s gonna run” she whispered, his face scrunched up in confusion for a second.

“What’s gonna…” he stopped short, she was worried about her slick. She really had never gone through her heat’s properly before, she was embarrassed by something that was normal, something that made him almost lose control and show her just how normal it was.

“That’s okay, it’s normal” he said, still offering his hand to her, she looked at him then, searching his eyes that were looking at her with kindness. There was no malicious intent behind them. She slowly reached for his hand and crawled out of her makeshift nest, pausing for a moment when slick gushed down her thigh, before continuing to crawl out from under the desk. Enji noticed she was clutching her stomach the entire time. She lifted her face up to look at him, she had tears in her eyes.

“Enji, can you please…” she paused trying to think things through, “can you please fuck me?” a tear rolled down her cheek when she said that and the alpha wasn’t’ sure if she was crying from the pain or from giving in. He unintentionally started releasing pheromones, having an omega so close to him, and especially considering that omega was clearly under a lot of stress, his instincts were taking over.

The omega couldn’t help herself when she caught his scent, she latched onto him, rubbing her face into his chest, taking in as much of it as possible. Seeing how well she responded to his pheromones, Enji started released them in waves and the little omega in his arms sighed and then started doing something he thought she’d ever do. She had split her legs over one of his muscled thighs and was rubbing herself on it. If he hadn’t been stiff before, he was definitely rock hard now. The omega was whimpering with each thrust of her hips, and soon enough, Enji could feel his pants becoming covered in her slick. He would never allow an omega to dry hump him like this, but she looked so goddamn perfect as she chased her orgasm on his thigh. He ran a hand through her hair, gently tilting her head back, forcing her to look up at him.

“Are you enjoying yourself? Little omega?” he asked lowly, she let out a moan then made eye contact with his stone-cold eyes, that screamed indifference.

“Please…” she whimpered, by the way she was shaking, he could tell she was close.

“Please what?” his eyes narrowed as he looked down at her.

“Can I p-please c-cum, alpha?” she begged, and something stirred in him, maybe she was a submissive after all. And as much as that excited him, he wasn’t going to be cruel to her right now, he had promised to help her after all. So many dirty things flooded into his head to respond with, but he wasn’t sure if they’d scare her off or turn her on. He decided teasing her was the best way to go.

“You’re so close already, and I haven’t even touched you” he mused, easily picking her up off his thigh and placing her in his lap, she let out a moan as she rubbed herself against his clothed erection.

“Good omegas look at their alphas when they cum” he whispered in her ear and then leant back into the chair, to watch her as she came undone. The girl did her best to look at the alpha as she rode out her orgasm, but her head titled back in euphoria at the height of her orgasm causing Enji to bite his lip to try and control himself. She was going to send him into an early rutt if he wasn’t careful. The girl was shaking as she came down from her high, however, her eyes widened slightly when she comprehended what she’d just done and she quickly looked away, causing Enji to smirk at her expression.

“Come now, you enjoyed yourself, didn’t you, (Y/N)?” he asked, gently grasping her chin and guiding her head to look at him.

“Yes, but…” she trailed off.

“But what?” he asked curious, although, the alpha was well aware of the answer, he just wanted to hear her say it.

“You’re my boss and I just, oh my god” she hid her face in his chest and he chuckled deeply.

“If it’s any consolation, I’m thoroughly enjoying this” he looked down at her to see her flash dagger eyes at him before she doubled over, whimpering in pain as she clutched her stomach.

“I can make the pain go away, you just have to ask” he whispered into her ear. She lost all normal sense as her instincts took over.

“Please fuck me, please alpha, I need your cock, use my cunt, please” she begged and a thrill rushed through Enji’s body.

“You’re so pretty when you beg” he trailed his hands down her body, hooking them under her thighs and lifting her up before easily manoeuvring her onto the desk. He rolled her pants and panties down to her ankles in one go, and was pleased to see that she had removed her shirt when he looked back up and was in the process of removing her bra, before laying down and displaying herself to him.

“Sir, please, I need your thick cock inside me, please fuck me” she begged again, looking him the eyes, on the verge on tears. The alpha released his hard cock from his restrictive clothing, stroking himself as he watched the omega writhe below him. It was a dream come true, seeing her beg for him like that, and it was taking his last piece of self-control not to dive in and fuck her immediately. He leant down over her, slapping his cock against her cunt, teasingly as he gently moved his hand to stroke her face, she nuzzled into his palm.

“Alpha, please, use me for your pleasure, I’m yours, please alpha, please” she begged again, attempting to thrust her hips upwards to gain any form of friction. Enji’s last fibre of constraint snapped, and with no warning, he thrust into the hilt and his omega let out a scream a pleasure. Even though this was her first time, there was enough slick pouring out of her cunt that his massive tool didn’t hurt her, it stretched her perfectly and hit all the right places as Enji started to thrust in and out of her cunt.

“Fuck… your cock… mhmm, feels so good, alpha, do whatever you want with me” she panted as he rammed into her. It was invitation Enji realised. He smirked as he gripped her throat with his free hand, and she let out a whine. Gently running her hand up and down his arm, encouraging to grip her neck tighter.

“Do you like that, little slut?” he whispered into her ear, and she nodded, her hips thrusting up to meet his.

“Good pets reply when they’re asked a question” he sneered, gripping her neck like a vice.

“Yes daddy… I love it when you choke me” she managed to wheeze out using the little oxygen that she had left in her lungs. Her words were nearly enough to send him over the edge.

“You’re such a filthy omega, I bet you’d do anything to please your alpha” he growled as he pulled his hand away from her throat, hooking one arm behind her back, the other under her thighs so he could lift her up. Her legs wound around his waist, arms hooking around his neck as he fucked up into her cunt, using gravity to enhance the angle.

“Mhm… anything to please you, anything, use me as your cock sleeve, I’ll be your cum dump, I want to satisfy you, please Enji” she moaned into his chest. This omega was going to be the death of him. She’d used his name, which meant that there was truth behind what she was saying. He could feel his knot starting to swell up.

“Fuck, you dirty whore, if you don’t stop talking like that, I’m going to knot you” he growled.

“But I mean it Sir, i need you to use me, I could keep your cock warm during long phone calls, mhmmm, you could come in here and fuck me whenever you wanted to, I need to pleasure you, please alpha” she whined.

“I bet you’d even let me fuck you in the middle of a meeting, wouldn’t you? Fuck. You’re mine. You’re my pretty little cum dump. You are mine, all mine” he growled possessively, thrusting deeply into her. It was enough to send her over the edge into an earth shattering orgasm, screaming his name as she clenched around his cock. He was patient and waited until she came down from her high.

“Alpha” she whispered in a sighed, he grunted, informed he was listening.

“Do you want to cum in my mouth or my ass?” she asked with a sly grin and he smirked, this omega had stamina, and the fact that she could keep up with him just made her that more attractive.

“All fours, face down, ass up” he ordered as he placed her on the ground. Oh and did she move quick for him.

“You’re such a perfect little omega for me” he cooed to her as he knelt down behind her, hotdogging her ass with his slick covered dick, using the slick build up to cover his knot.

“Please, use me alpha, I’m all yours” she begged.

“You’ve cum twice now, and you still want my cock. You greedy bitch” he growled, thrusting inside her back entrance, forcing his knot inside, scraping against her walls. The omega beneath him let out a muffled scream of pain.

“If it’s too much for you, I can take it out” he wasn’t being kind, he was teasing her as he fucked her ass. (Y/N) pulled her teeth from her arm and panted before responding.

“I’ll take your cock whenever you give it to me alpha. My perfect, handsome, strong alpha. I’ll give you anything, I’d do anything to please you. I belong to you” she moaned, it was enough to send him over the edge.

“Fuck (Y/N)” he muttered, with one deep thrust, he poured his seed into her ass with a guttural moan.

“Thank you alpha” the omega whispered as he slowly rotated her on his cock so she was facing him before picking her up and sitting down in the chair as they waited for his knot to shrink.

“You were so good for me” he cooed, continuing to whisper soft nothings into her ear as she leant against his chest.

[sithsecrets]

proposal | din djarin x reader

you and din discuss the customs of his people, and then you take a trip to see the armorer.

---

3.4k words

mentions: piv sex, marriage customs, fem!reader, marriage proposals, reader discusses interest in having kids, nervousness/anxiety about being rejected, weddings

this is part 6 of my valentine’s week special! you can find the other parts here!

---

Only in the dark are you brave enough to ask the question that’s been lingering in your mind for weeks now, speaking the words into the hull’s empty void as Din breathes beside you.

“Do Mandalorians have weddings?”

So maybe that’s not exactly what you meant, but it’s what comes out of your mouth. What you really want to know is if Mandalorians marry in the first place, but something about asking Din this more directly seems entirely too serious. Too heavy. Couple that with the fact that you lie here naked and drunk on sex and wine, and you find yourself glad that you asked him the way you did.

“No,” Din says, palm warm on your back, “at least not the way people most people do.”

You let his words sink in for a moment, pondering what sort of marriage customs Mandalorians could have. Where you’re from, weddings are huge affairs, the celebration of two families joining together made complete with eating and drinking and music. It is a day devoted to dressing impractically and marveling at all the future holds, a day where two people become a unit, their whole lives spread out before them. You know that every culture isn’t like yours, obviously, but you wonder what else could be done for such an occasion. Every wedding you’ve ever been to, regardless of setting or context, has always involved merrymaking and splendor, or as much as could be afforded. Even this evening, all the way out in the Tatooine desert, Cobb Vanth and his husband and all their friends in Mos Pelgo managed to scrape together quite the little party. There was wine and food, and everyone danced until they couldn’t go anymore. If marriage isn’t a celebration to Mandalorians, then what else could it be?

“Do they— Do you just say you’re married? Is there an officiant?”

Din lets out a sigh, but it’s by no means an exasperated one. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was trying to steady himself, his bare arm flexing around your waist.

“No,” he answers, “there’s no officiant. When two Mandalorians get married, they exchange vows in mando’a, and then they look at each other.”

“They take off—”

“Their helmets,” Din finishes for you, “yes. They say their vows, and then they see each other’s faces for the first time. That’s why it’s done in private— no guests, no one to oversee things.”

“And then after you see each other, you’re married?”

Din nods, affirmative, and the weight of all he’s said presses down on your mind. Two Mandalorians, that was his exact wording, but is that really what he meant? Is there no other option? There has to be another option…

“Can Mandalorians marry other people? Or is that not allowed?”

It takes everything you have to ask this question, anxiety churning in your stomach until… until you realize that Din’s already sleeping, the rise and fall of his chest even and measured against your cheek. The feeling that comes over you is equal parts relief and horror, an odd reaction to the fact that he didn’t hear you, but you decide agonizing over all of this isn’t important right now, not tonight. You’re half-drunk, exhausted, and emotional aroused— hardly the right state to be in when you’re talking about something so serious as this. And so you simply pull the blankets up around you and Din, trying in vain to fall asleep like he did.

---

Thirty-six hours later, the Crest is back in hyperspace, you, Din, and the baby off to chase down a quarry on some distance planet. It’s going to be a long ride, a fact that you’re dreading. Since you watched the Marshal and his husband say their vows and exchange a kiss as husbands, your head’s been filled with images of marriage and weddings and wifehood. The conversation you had with Din the other night plays in your mind on loop, the one unanswered question bothering you to the point of distraction.

Can Mandalorians marry other people?

(Can you marry me?)

You try to keep busy, cleaning and doing laundry, cooking an elaborate dinner, but nothing helps. Even as you play with the baby and tuck him in the for the night, you’re bombarded by anxiety and feelings of unresolved tension. The most frustrating part of it all is that it’s completely one-sided— Din wouldn’t know what the hell you’re talking about, even if you told him, because he wasn’t fucking awake. Din Djarin, a man who never rests, fell asleep in the middle of talking to you about his people and their customs. You truly never thought you’d see the day, and now that you have, you pray it never happens again. You’re not sure you can take this, this limbo. You have to know.

With the Child asleep, you’re officially out of things to occupy your time. You’ve scrubbed every floor and every surface of the Crest, cleaned out the pantry and changed the beds, washed and folded all the clothes. And so you decide it’s time to fuck up your life, climbing up to the cockpit to talk to Din like you have a hundred times before with a rock in your stomach. Never in your life have you professed to be brave, and you nearly chicken out the minute your eyes land on the glinting beskar, on the curve of his helmet. In that moment, you realize that this is it, this really could be the end of it all…

And yet somehow, you’re not afraid anymore.

“Hey,” Din says softly, reaching out to you. The visor remains fixed on the holograms in front of him even as you come over, but his arm is tight around your waist, grounding. “Kid’s asleep?”

“Yeah.” You pause, enjoying the weight of his embrace. “Din?”

He hums in acknowledgement, still focused whatever he’s studying on the holo display. You’re undeterred.

“Do you— Do you remember what we were talking about the other night? After Cobb’s wedding?”

Din’s still half distracted, fixed on an image of two alien beings in what appears to be a hangar bay. “Yeah, Mandalorian weddings. You wanted to know what it’s like when we marry.”

You study him for a moment, gather up all your courage. “Mmhm. And you said that that was the custom for two Mandalorians— vows and then you look. But— But—”

“But what?” Din cuts, still not looking at you.

“Does it… Does it have to be two Mandalorians, or can it be a Mandalorian and someone else?”

Your question hangs in the air for one long, silent moment, and then it would seem that you finally have Din’s full attention.

He turns to you slowly, letting the holograms flicker into nothingness as the pilot’s chair creaks in your direction. You think you might actually pass out right there, petrified to face him in the wake of this question. The both of you are long past all the uncertainty of the early days, far away from the time when you didn’t know what you meant to one another. But this is no insignificant matter, and Din’s not a stupid man. You aren’t asking, but you certainly aren’t not asking either.

For a second there, you think he’s going to prod for more information, make you say what you mean out loud. Din’s good at that, at making you talk when you don’t want to, but he usually resolves it for more playful situations, times when what he’s making you say outright doesn’t matter as much. But mercifully, he skips the games, reaching for you with one gloved hand.

“Come here, mesh’la,” Din murmurs, maneuvering you into his lap like he has a hundreds of times before. It’s all muscle memory at this point, and you settle on the width of his thighs without even thinking about it. Still, though he’s being gentle, though you’re filled with hope, you wait to hear news that will break you.

… It never comes.

---

If someone asked you to make a list of all the things you thought you’d do in your lifetime, visiting a Mandalorian covert wouldn’t even make the top fifty. But here you are on some distant planet in the Outer Rim, snaking through a tunnel system on your way to meet with someone that Din only refers to as “the Armorer.” Apparently, she used to lead his old covert on Nevarro, and now it would seem that another group of Mandalorians has banded together under her leadership. You don’t know what to think of this person, but Din seems to have great respect for her, and that only makes you more nervous.

When Din asked you to sit on his lap, you were sure that he was about to tell you that you and he could never be more than what you already are. In that moment, you had to ask yourself some hard questions. Were you comfortable with that? Could you live with never seeing Din’s face? Was marriage something you needed, or was it something you wanted? But it turned out that all this introspection was pointless, because Din told you flat out that he can marry whoever he wants… So long as he has the Armorer’s permission.

“It’s just because you’re not a Mandalorian,” he told you, trying to soothe you fears as you became more and more worked up about the whole thing. “It’s purely a formality.”

You were unconvinced. “If it’s just a formality, then why do we have to do it? What if she says no?”

“Then we’ll cross that bridge if we have to, but I doubt she’ll turn us down.”

All of this was said under the cover of darkness, of course, you and Din naked and sprawled out under the blankets. He’d made love to you for hours after you asked him if the two of you could get married, saying over and over again that he loved you and that he couldn’t believe you wanted to be his wife. The attention made you breathless, but in the aftermath of it all, you still asked Din three separate times if he was serious, if he really wanted to have you. You couldn’t bear it if he called the whole thing off at the last minute, and you certainly didn’t want him to agree to something so serious just because you’d expressed interest in the idea. But Din was insistent, promising time and time again that he’d made up his mind. You should have known better than to question the conviction of a Mandalorian, especially one as devout and loyal as Din— they don’t make their choices lightly. All of it felt so fast, but also so right, and you’d fallen asleep that night awash in the glow of your engagement. Now that it’s time to face the Armorer, though, you’re anxious and petrified.

All eyes are on you as you and Din make your way down a cavernous, dimly lit corridor, the blackness of many visors tracking your every movement. Even two children stop to stare at your, their helmeted heads shining dully as you pass.

The sound of metal on metal fills the air as you approach what appears to be a chamber within the tunnel system, the noise growing louder and louder with every step you take. Your first impulse is to turn tail and run, but you force yourself to remain steady, counting your steps and standing tall even as a feeling of all-consuming anxiety overwhelms you.

“Hey,” Din says, reaching for your hand just before the two of you enter the room. “Okay?”

You squeeze his palm, lying through your teeth. “Yeah, I’m good.”

And then you’re walking into the chamber side by side, ready to face the woman that will determine the path of your lives.

The Armor is a tall, broad person, helmeted and sheathed in armor like all the other Mandalorians you’ve seen. She pauses her work the minute you and Din walk into the room, a heavy tool made of beskar held aloft in one hand. To be watched by her is intimidating to say the least, her air of importance only heightened by the fact that she stands three feet off the ground on a dais. Din sits down before her without saying a word, and you follow his lead, unsure of what to do with your hands or face.

“Brother,” she declares, dropping her gaze back to her workspace, “it is good to see you. If you have come for repairs, I am afraid you’ll have to wait some time. We have just combined forces with another covert, and I have had much to do as a result.”

The Armorer glances up.

“Where is the Child?”

It takes you three whole seconds to realize that she’s speaking to you instead of Din, and you rush to answer her. “He’s with friends,” you explain, “people we trust on Nevarro.”

“’We,’” the Armorer intones, picking apart your words. You can’t decide what she means by this.

Two clangs of beskar on beskar, and Din finally speaks.

“I haven’t come for repairs,” he says, voice even and strong, “I’ve come to speak to you about an important matter.”

The Armorer does not so much as look up. “I assume it has something to do with the girl, yes?”

“Yes,” Din affirms. “I want her to be my wife, and I seek your permission for a vow exchange.”

It is a long time before the Armorer speaks again, her demeanor never changing once as she continues to work on the piece before her. She pounds away at the metal, laying it over the jets of flame before her, setting her tools aside carefully.

“You want to marry this Mandalorian?”

Her words are like ice water down your back, but you force yourself to be brave.

“Yes,” you say, feigning confidence. It’s hard to maintain eye contact, though you do it anyway, hellbent on showing respect to this woman who has survived no less than two massacres.

“Come here, child. Let me look at you.”

Standing on shaky legs, you walk closer and closer to the dais, stepping up when prompted by your observer. You refuse to come too close to her workstation, afraid of causing offense. Beskar is a precious thing, and you’d never want to taint her tools and materials with the oil if your unworthy, unindoctrinated hands.

“How long have you known my brother?”

The Armorer begins to pace long, measured circles around you, studying your body, letting her gaze linger on your face.

“Over a year.”

“Do you travel with him much?”

“We live together on the Crest,” you explain. “We’re always together, unless he goes out to look for a quarry.”

The Armorer nods, seemingly pleased.

“And what do you think of the Child? Do you care for him?”

You picture the baby’s face, his little green hands, his big black eyes, and your heart is filled with affection for him. “I don’t know what he is, but I don’t care, either. I love him like he came from my own body. Din’s done me a favor by letting me know the baby at all.”

And for the first since you came to stand before the Armorer do you turn to look at Din. He doesn’t say anything to you in that moment, but you see it, the way his posture softens just the slightest bit. The Armorer must notice it too because she turns her gaze on him as well.

“She is the Child’s mother?”

“Yes,” Din says at once. If the two of you were alone, if you still weren’t so afraid of being rejected, you think you might cry at that.

The Armorer nods once again, statuesque as she comes to a stand in front of you.

“If you were to bear my brother children, would you raise warriors? Or would you have them shy away from such a life?”

This is an important question, you know, one that will make or break the Armorers decision. You take your time to consider you answer, choosing the right words, stringing them together with care.

“My children will be free to do as they please,” you begin, looking the Armorer dead in her visor. “I know that you don’t just become a Mandalorian. It’s something you choose for yourself. You have to swear the Creed and take on the burden of never showing your face— that’s not something I could force on my babies, even if I wanted to. When the time comes, I’ll support whatever path they choose in life, so long as it makes them happy. I love their father as he is now, and I’ll love my children if they choose to follow in his footsteps.”

The room fall silent as you finish your little speech, Din and the Armorer not speaking a word through their modulators as they take in your words. The Armorer herself is especially still, staring you down, testing your will. You think she’s waiting for a “but,” an “if” or an “except” that will ruin everything you’ve just told her. But you don’t flinch, locked in her gaze and firm in your choices.

“You have chosen well, brother. This woman will be an excellent wife. We welcome her openly.”

And though Din told you that she would say yes, hearing the words come out of the Armorer’s own mouth has you awash in all-consuming relief. You think you should say something, perhaps “thank you” or “I welcome you as well,” but you don’t get the chance. The Armorer goes back to her work the minute her pronouncement is made, picking up her tools and going back to her craft like she never stopped in the first place.

“Go now,” she says, but it’s not a harsh command. “I have much to do.”

Her helmet peeks up, trained on Din.

“If she falls pregnant, I want you to return so that we may celebrate the child. It has been too long since we have known the joy of a new life.”

All Din does is nod, offering you his arm when you step off the dais in a daze. The two of you leave together in silence, weaving your way back through the tunnels that brought you here as everyone watches you closely. Somehow, though, their stares feel less judgmental this time, less suspicious. It might be a figment of your imagination, a byproduct of your relief, but it’s like they know. The whole thing is sort of eerie, and you’re glad when you and Din come back out into the daylight.

---

It’s just the two of you alone on the ship, the Child safe on Nevarro with Greef and Cara. You and Din decide to take advantage of this, cutting the lights and crawling in bed the minute the Crest kicks into hyperspace.

You let Din have you on your stomach this time, breathless as he fucks you into the mats and blankets. Even as he pushes into you without mercy, Din is so sweet with you, kissing your back, running his hands down your sides. He murmurs your name like a prayer, moaning brokenly when you tell him that you love him.

After all is said and done, the two of you end up snuggled together as you so often are, safe and warm in a nest of blankets on the floor of this ship you love so much. Panting for breath as you try to calm down, it hits you that this might be one of the last times, might be the last time Din fucks you like this, with everything dark and quiet. Something about that excites you, and yet you feel driven to savor the moment, a strange sense of loss settling in your stomach.

Finally, though, you speak: “When should we do it?”

Din snuggles his face against your chest, letting out a contented breath when you wind your fingers in his hair.

“Soon,” he tells you, “but not here.”

That makes you pause. “If we don’t get married here, then—?”

“I know of a better place, cyar’ika,” Din soothes, rubbing your back, and you can’t help but trust him. “A much better place.”

[dameronology]

aftermath {natasha romanoff x reader}

summary: when the snap happened, everyone’s minds immediately went to the person they loved the most. natasha romanoff’s went to you. (for @writefightandflightclub​!! i hope you enjoy❤️)

warnings: set during the snap, so all the canon angst of that + swearing 

- jamie

Natasha Romanoff had a long to-do list.

Declaring her love for you was certainly on there. 

It’s just - as life often went - she got busy. You got busy. There were missions that took you to opposite ends of the globe and meetings that pulled you apart at all hours of the day. There was something between you - something strong and pure, something sweet against that contrasted against the dark world you’d both come to discover - but Natasha couldn’t quite work out what. She’d never felt the need to. It didn’t have to be explained. Unlike everything else in her life, it wasn’t complicated. You were consistent. You someone she could count on. A constant and steady presence among a world that never seemed to slow down. 

It was stolen kisses as you brushed past one another in the corridor. It was slow mornings under the covers of the dark before you had to drag one another out of bed to face the day. It was knowing in your very souls that you had one another; knowing that no matter where or when, you could turn to each other for anything. You never rushed her into anything, or asked her too much of her - that was something she was particularly thankful for. She couldn’t work out if she was just lucky, or if she’d been a saint in a past life to deserve you.

But, in the same way that life had plenty of highs, it came with lows. It could pack a punch and whilst you both prided yourself on your ability to get back up, some hits kept you down. 

The snap had been a flashpoint moment for everyone who survived it. You could have asked anyone and every person would remember where they were, who they were with and what they were thinking. No matter how many years passed, they would remember. The loss, the pain, the panic. The not knowing if their loved ones were alive. 

Natasha had been in Wakanda. You had been in the States. The last few days had worn you both down to your very cores and you’d barely had a chance to speak. The only thing that had kept her going was the occasional sound of your voice over the comms - reminding her that you’d see each other in a few days, that everything would be okay and that you could go home. Maybe you believed your own words. Maybe you didn’t. Either way, feeding yourself false hope was the only way you could have possibly pulled through to the final battle. 

Vision. T’Challa. Strange. Bucky. Sam. 

All gone. One by one. Bit by bit. Ceasing to exist in a matter of seconds. 

Natasha had realised what was happening - and her heart dropped. It fucking plummeted. You were the first place her mind went. She hadn’t heard anything from your comms line in a while - but you’d been busy fighting, busy holding up the other end of the fight across the ocean. You were okay. Of course you were. 

You had to be. 

She slowly - and almost dubiously - raised her hand to her ear piece, pressing the receive button. There was a crackling sound, but no voice. Why hadn’t you said anything? Maybe you were still busy in battle, or you were on your knees mourning for your friends in the same way people around her were. Her brain spat out a million different possibilities at once but not one of them seemed to cover the worst possible scenario. 

You’d been lost in the snap. 

Natasha knew that it was the most likely outcome. Fifty percent of all living things - she didn’t like those odds, especially not given her track history. Whenever she felt like she finally had something good and pure, it got ripped away from her. It had happened a thousand times before and she’d been insane to think it wouldn’t have happened again. This time, she’d really let herself be aloof; she’d let herself be naive enough to think that you were a permanent fixture in her life. 

The realise that she was in love with you hit Natasha Romanoff like a ton of bricks; like a freight train to a strewn car. It was the most obvious thing in the world but still, the biggest shock her system had ever experienced. She’d always wondered what love felt like, what it was - and it had been right in front of her the whole time. 

The journey back to the Compound was only a few hours, but it felt like lifetimes. There was so much hanging in the balance and Natasha almost didn’t want to land. It would mean knowing for sure that you were gone, that Tony was gone, that so many of the people she’d come to care for were gone. It was like a mutated, screwed up version of Schrodinger’s Cat. There was still the possibility that you were alive and kicking but the Black Widow was nothing if not a realist. She knew how these things usually went. 

Steve nor Bruce said a word the entire way back. Even Thor was uncharacteristically silent, tucked away in the corner of the quint-jet with his knees pulled to his chest and a solemn look on his tired face. The life had been pulled from all of you over the last few days, and even the demigod’s humanity was starting to peep through. They were all spent. Mentally, emotionally, physically. 

‘Look after yourselves.’ Steve’s instructions were a little half-hearted as the four of them traipsed of the ramp of the jet. Even in the darkest of times, he was still trying to be the leader. 

‘Don’t forget to do the same.’ Natasha spoke for the first time in what felt like hours. ‘You look like hell.’

‘Feel it too.’ He murmured in response. 

Natasha was working on autopilot, letting her legs simply drag her from the jet and towards the living quarters. She usually went to your room after long and tiring missions - the way you greeted her with a warm hug and encouraging words never seemed to get old. You were always the first thing her mind went to when she thought of coming home. You were her home. 

Your room had always felt a thousand times more comfortable than hers. It was a mess of clutter and pillows and discarded clothes but it was welcoming, and filled with tiny reminders of you. There was a strewn book on the bed, alongside your reading glasses. The walls were filled with photos of you and the team; there was one of the time that Thor had dragged you all to Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park. Steve was grinning, Tony had ice cream on his nose and you and Nat were in one another’s arms. There was a Polaroid from your brief trip to the Bahamas, when Sam had sunscreen on his nose and Bucky was scowling under the bright sun. Most of the photos, however, were just random ones of you and Nat. 

She was grateful to have those photos. They were something to hold onto, something to remember you by in case you didn’t-

‘- where the fuck have you been?!’

The cry of someone’s voice pulled Natasha from her thoughts and less than a moment later, your body collided with hers. You hit her with a thump, arms instantly wrapping around her waist to cling onto her. 

It took her a minute to react; to realise that you were real. You were alive. You’d survived the snap and you were here, clinging onto her for dear life and practically crying into her shoulder. Natasha had forgotten for a moment that she’d been radio silent too, working on the assumption that you were gone. Grief went both ways - of course you’d felt it for her. 

Her arms came to hold you back, tightly clinging onto your shoulders. Your bodies were tangled together, skin to skin and nose to nose, the smell of your perfume and shampoo immediately bringing her to reality. You’d survived. For once, she’d assumed the worst and was wrong. 

‘My comms went down when it happened and I tried to call you, and Bruce, and Steve-’

‘- I love you.’ 

You pulled back from Nat, an o-shape on your lips as you stared at her with wide eyes. It was as though she’d knocked the air from your lungs and stolen your ability to speak, or to function as a human being. That was the Black Widow’s speciality, after all. 

‘You love me?’ You repeated it back to her. 

‘You were the first person I thought of when...when it happened.’ She still couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge what had happened earlier that day. ‘I feel like I’ve always known it but I thought we had time, that I could wait to tell you-’

‘- I love you too.’ 

‘You do?’

‘Nat.’ You squeezed her arms, giving her a tearful smile despite everything. ‘You’re all I can think about on a good day. The world was literally crumbling around us and I couldn’t think of another person.’

She gave you a knowing nod - you had both lost a lot of the last few days. Near enough everything, in fact. Most of the world had barely even begun to process what happened, or even thought about accepting it. You were on that page too. Everything had changed and the world was never going to be the same again. It was though someone had taken the idea that nuclear war was the worst possible outcome and they’d laughed. 

‘I don’t even know where to begin.’ Nat murmured, hand ghosting your cheekbone. ‘Everything is....’

‘...gone?’ You offered. 

‘Gone.’

The euphoria that came with her declaration was only fleeting. It was the relief you needed after days of battling but it didn’t change anything that had happened. Still, at least you had her by your side.

‘Whatever the next few days - or months or years - bring, you have to promise me one thing.’ Natasha took your hands in hers, gently intertwining your fingers.

‘Anything.’

‘We’ll do it together.’ 

You nodded. ‘Together.’

She finally closed the gap between you, softly brushing her lips against yours. You’d kissed many times before but this held something different; love, panic, desperation. It was a testament to the last few days - the feeling of losing someone and regaining them all without truly ever realising. It made you cling onto her a little tighter, savouring the taste and feel of her a little more. 

You didn’t even know where to begin - there was no doubt that the mantle of protecting the Earth still lay in the laps of the Avengers. That would come once people had accepted what had happened and frankly, you weren’t even there yet. Your brain was still processing seeing Thanos in person, let alone the rest of the what kind of fuckery is this that had followed.

But in that moment, Natasha was the only thing on your mind. She was in one piece, and so you were you. Neither of you had any idea what was to come, but there was one thing you were certain of.

You had Nat and she had you. Nothing else mattered.

[innocent-chris-evans-slut]

The Assistant - Part Six

My Masterlist ✨

Requests are open.

Word Count: 3,7k

Type: angst, fluff, fluff smut

Summary: Y/N is Ransom Dysdale’s assistant. She’s the closest person to him and spends everyday with him at his house. Usually she gets in at nine o’clock and makes sure everything is perfect. One day he doesn’t want to get up and Y/N goes in his room. She finds a surprise.

Warning(s): swearing, squirting, dirty talking

Two Months Later

Two months after having left Ransom’s house, a lot of things changed. You were no more a student; you successfully graduated at University and were now experiencing your first days in an elementary school -as a teacher. You went back to Belmont a couple of days after your graduation but found out your parents and brothers moved out, so you didn’t see them.

When you came back you found none waiting for you, welcoming you back home. The balloons your friends had brought to your house the day you graduated were deflating and gradually falling to the floor. You could no more distinguish the letters and it made you sad; they were nothing else but a bunch of rubbish of which you should have got rid soon.

You weren’t used to spend the day in your flat -which you found extremely silent- so you didn’t know what to do. You looked for something to read in your bookcase but grumbled when you couldn’t find anything you liked -or that you haven’t read before. Going to a bookstore was out of question since your university rent had been just payed and you had no job, so you just couldn’t fritter your money away. You kept them for essential goods.

Though spending almost fifty bucks in a restaurant wasn’t planned.

Your friends had been trying to convince you to join them all-day long and when you finally gave up, you didn’t know they had previously booked at the most expensive restaurant in your area. You didn’t want to explain them why you couldn’t afford such a fancy expense, so at seven o’clock you found yourself in the only luxurious dress you got. Long, pink and strapless, with an entire-length zip on the front. Just like the last time you’d wore it, you matched it with a pair of black heels.

You looked at yourself through the mirror in your bathroom as you applied some mascara on your eyelashes. You had just finished when your phone buzzed next to the sink and you got Lana, one of your friends, was waiting for you outside.

“Let’s end this quickly”, you grabbed your purse and head out of your apartment.

Three hours later you were laughing with your friends, recalling to your memory all the good times you had back in the University. You all got graduated the same day, so they shared the precious moment, though with different endings. Your friends went celebrating their great achievement with their families and you went back to your flat, alone, and ordered a cake from the bakery at the corner and ate it at dinner.

Alone.

On the table, your phone lighted up and began buzzing -not stopping for more than a couple of seconds. When you handed it, you found three missed calls from Sam, five messages from Harlan and even two missed calls from Linda.

One in-coming.

You excused from your friends and got up, once outside, you answered the phone, “Hello?”

“Oh, finally! Y/N, is that you, right?” as she heard your positive answer, she went on: “Where the hell are you? I’ve been trying to talk to you for the last two weeks. Know what? I don’t care. I need you to reach Ransom’s place. He has been unmanageable for the last weeks and now he’s acting like an asshole. He closed me out!”

You thought that she seemed much more concerned that she had to be, since Ransom had always been an asshole and you had to cope with that ‘joke’ a lot of times when you were his assistant.

“Tell him that you are about to cut his money off. He’ll open the door immediately”, you were about to hang up when you heard her voice once more.

“Listen, I don’t know where you are, but you have to come here. It’s hard to admit it, damn! You’re the only person he listens”, she snorted and seemed to be trying to get in the house, without any good result, “I can send a car to pick you up. You have to help me”, then she lowered his voice and you heard what she said later, only because you were in a silent space, “You’re the only one”.

You hissed and had a look inside the restaurant: your friends were laughing, and it seemed they didn’t care you weren’t there with them. You glanced down at your body and once again raised your eyes at them; you realized you had nothing to with them. You weren’t like them and, though you liked being spoiled, you didn’t like spending your money over fancy things.

You had been running away from your problems since you were eighteen and you were done with it. At that moment you made the decision to stop being as people wanted you, and you started modelling your future as you wanted it to be.

When you saw them get up and pay the check, you made your decision about how to end that night.

That was the reason why, thirty minutes later you found yourself jumping out of a Jeep and walking down the walkway of Ransom’s house. From far away, you saw a pink-dressed woman waving at you, you figured out she was none other than Linda Thrombey. Next to her stood her husband, Richard Drysdale. The more you approached the porch, the more you felt their eyes on your skin.

You acknowledged Harlan’s presence after seeing Marta’s car parked no far away from Ransom’s Beemer.

Lovely family reunion, you thought approaching them.

“Ms. Y/L/N, finally you’re here!” Linda ran to you, “Let him leave this damn house!” the pleading Linda Thrombey was gone.

In front of you stood the most selfish bitch you had ever known.

“Have you tried with the spare key?” you saw them shake their heads and look at you with wide open eyes, “Of course you didn’t”, you whispered to yourself, though not low enough to prevent Marta from hearing it. She chuckled and sent an amused glance at you, never leaving Harlan’s side.

None made you space while you got the spare key from under the plant on your right, neither did they moved when you tried, but failed, in getting into the house.

“Why aren’t you in there? We didn’t call you for nothing!”

“I am trying to get in!” you raised your voice, addressing to Richard and Linda -who weren’t properly helping you, “What have you done since getting here? I don’t think much, granted that you didn’t even know Ransom keeps a spare ke-“, you eyes lightened up and a smile crossed your face.

You knew exactly what to do.

You searched in your purse and, when your fingers touched what you were looking for, you grew more satisfied with yourself. Without saying a word to anybody, you walked around the house and stopped in front of the back door -which Ransom didn’t know existed so, it would have been easier for you to get in. In fact, when you forced the keyhole, it opened in less than a second.

Thank God he despises the kitchen, you chuckled and entered the house. Once you got rid of your jacket and your purse, you wandered in the living room -intentionally ignoring the noises coming from outside.

Empty bottles of whiskey stood on the floor. You could scent the strong-smelling of alcohol filling your nose. Usually you would smell Ransom’s scent from the entrance, yet not this time: the alcohol’s smell was too strong. Though the living room was nothing compared to Ransom’s office. It was completely destroyed; the lamp and the computer monitor on his desk had been thrown off and paper covered the floor, the chairs had been hurled against the wall, wrecking it.

You were about to explore the upper floor, when you heard a sob coming from behind your former desk. You quietly moved around the desk and what you found on the floor made your stomach twist in knots.

Sat, with his back leaned against the leg of the wooden-made desk, there was Ransom Drysdale -like you hadn’t seen him before.

He was a tearing and sobbing mess. His eyes swollen and red, just like his nose and his lips. There were tears running down from his cheeks and the upper border of his shirt was wet. You kneeled in front of him and balanced yourself by putting a hand on his thigh.

“What happened?” you asked him, glimpsing a hint of vulnerability in eyes which you had never seen before, “Ransom, talk to me. What happened?”

“You-“, he looked at you with watery eyes, tears spilling from them and running down on his cheeks. A hiccup shocked his whole body and the wall, he was desperately trying to build around him, fell. “Every time I grow fond of someone, every time I do actually care about someone, they run away. I keep asking myself if I will ever have people caring about me on this Earth”.

The look he gave to you broke your heart. You could feel tears already forming at the corners of your eyes and a burning sensation in your throat.

It broke you to see him like that. His eyes weren’t shining blue as always, a dark shade was covering them. Your fingers found their way to his cheeks and you rubbed your thumbs over then, swiping away his tears, “Please, don’t talk like this. I care about you. Why would I be here, otherwise?” you talked to him as a mother would have done to his child, “Tell me what happened”.

“You. You fucking happened.”

You kept quiet for a moment, trying to process his words, yet you couldn’t understand them. You wouldn’t understand them, “Ransom, I-“

“Yeah. You. You ruined my life. I wonder where I would be now if that fucking day, I didn’t hire you. Damn, you turned my life upside down. Fun fact is that you don’t even know what you did to me”, he grabbed both your wrists and brought your hands touching his chest. You lost your balance and fell forward. You would have hit him, if he didn’t hold you firmly, “You…” he breathed through his teeth, “-you had ruined me. I can’t even think about another woman who isn’t you. I dream of you at night and when I wake up I had this urge of kissing you. And that’s strange before I do never kiss anybody. Kisses are off-limits for me, but- sometimes I just want to sit down and kiss you. Not even fuck you, which is basically impossible for me with a hot girl in front of me, and…” Ransom groaned and leaned forward. His lips crushed against yours and when you thought of it, Ransom was licking your bottom lip, slightly parting your lips and inserting his tongue inside your mouth. His hands grabbed your ass and dragged you closer, to the point that you were sitting on his lap, the bottom part of your dress had raised, leaving your underside almost completely exposed.

You cupped his face as you felt him tightening his grip around your waist. Then you ran your fingers through his golden locks, and he moaned in your mouth. That kiss was blowing your mind, heavily messing up with your mental capacity. As no one before, Ransom had you moaning and shivering only with his lips on yours. You relaxed yourself against his strong, built body and he gladly held you up.

Once the breathtaking kiss had ended, you rested your head in the crock of his neck, finally you had the chance to inhale his scent. Then he grabbed you by your wrists -again- and made you face him, “Teach me”, Ransom took a deep breath and kept speaking: “I want to love you, to respect you, to worship you. I want to treat you as my girlfriend, as the only girl that has me twisted around her fingers. Fuck, I want to spoil you, to give you the entire world if you let me do it. But, please, teach me how to love you”, his speech made you cry. Now you had switched places; he was the one swiping away your tears, and you were shaking under his touch, “I don’t know how to properly love you. Teach me how to”.

You could have been a bit stronger, maybe have resisted a little more to his words, instead you nodded repeatedly and firmly and rushed into his arms. You felt his biceps tightening around your thin body, and your hands went under his armpits and then on his shoulders. You loved the sensation and looked him in his eyes, “You have to promise me only one thing”, at his signal to go on, you spoke again: “You have to promise me that you’ll never give up on us. When you feel stressed, if something doesn’t suit you, every little things that bothers you, you come to me and we talk. If you want me to teach you how to love a girl, y-“

“Not a girl. I want you to teach me how to love you. You’re the only girl that I’m interested in now and forever”, he lifted you chin with two of his fingers as you looked down at your shoes, “I’ve told you. I want to love you. And only you”.

You smiled at him and slowly got near to his face, your lips twitching at the idea of kissing him again, though you warned him before anything else could happen: “I’m going to kiss you. Nice and slow. If you’re not ready, stop me”.

He didn’t move a single hair, and, in that moment, you understood how willing Ransom was to walk down a new, completely undiscovered path. But he wouldn’t be alone, you would have been right next to him, holding his hand and encouraging him.

•••

Six Months Later

A soft knock on the door of Ransom’ office had him raise him eyes from the papers on the desk.

“Come in!” he called and put down the pen he was holding.

As the door opened, Caity came in and she was bringing with her good news, “Netflix just sent in the trailer of the movie”, she showed a sequence of it on the iPad in her left hand, “It will be released at midnight. Congratulations, Mr. Drysdale”.

He ran out of words for a moment, unbelieving that all what he had worked on for the past few months, finally was going to be recognized, “Thank you, Caity. Can you, please, let my girlfriend in? And then you can go home”, he watched as his new assistant thanked him and exited the room.

Ransom knew his girlfriend would have showed up at any moment, so he got up and cleaned the mess on his desk. He put the paper in the first drawer, got rid of all pens and pencils, place the lamp on the floor and his iMac in its black bag. By the time you crossed the door, his desk was clean…and empty.

“I’m not going to ask you about that”, you approached him and sat on his lap, “I’m really proud of you. Your first movie is going to be released in less than two months!” you were over the moon, and really proud of him and how hard he had worked for the past six months.

Your relationship wasn’t the only thing that changed in his life. Ransom had decided to quit the family company and, instead, publish his first book. Hands down, it’d become a bestseller in less than a week and the critics loved it. How come everybody loved the redemption of a former playboy, you could easily understand that.

“I know! And that’s all thanks to you, incredible girlfriend”, he leaned over and pressed a kiss on your forehead, “Now…I really would like to open my present”, he gave your ass a firm squeeze and, in the meantime, kissed your cheek.

“Is it so?” you chuckled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “I mean, what’s on the plate for me?”

“Hours and hours of pleasure. I have enough of blowjobs and licking your pussy, not that I don’t like it. Let me be clear, you’re the sweet-“

You placed your index finger on his lips, shutting him up, as you leaned your ass against the desk, “Were you planning on open your present on your desk?”

“Nope”, he picked you up and seated you down on the desk. He placed his hands on both your shoulders and shoved you down. His hands travelled from your ankles to your knees, spreading them out, and then to the elastic bend of your slips, taking them off and throwing them at his shoulders, “I’ve already opened my present”.

You laughed, tilting your head back. When you looked back at Ransom, you found him looking at you with a wide smile on his face and his blue eyes sparking, “What?”

He kept smiling, then became serious, “I love you”, and he kissed you. It was a soft, yet a kiss full of lust. He grabbed the border of the dress you were wearing and within a couple of seconds it was gone, just like your bra.

You cupped his face and dragged him closer, “I love you, too”, and kissed him again. You didn’t process that, but Ransom had taken off all his clothes and was standing in front of you completely naked.

With one only step, he avoided you from going away and placed his hands back on your mid-thighs, pinning you down on the desk.

“And now?”

Ransom would have never thought that a sweet, innocent girl like you could have him wrapped around her fingers. Every time Ransom was in the same room as yours, his chest would hurt, his throat would literally burn, and his legs would tremble. He refused to think that he had transformed weak because Ransom Drysdale wasn’t weak. Though he believed, and he was right, that you had changed his whole world, making you his world.

Your smile made him smile and he leaned closer to your ear, “Listen carefully”, he instructed you, as you did as he said, “I’m going to fuck you here”, he cupped your pussy with his callous hands, “And here”, he let the slip on your back, “And then, all over again. Until we will be so worn out that we will end up sleeping on the floor”.

Once he had asked you if you were ready, Ransom gave a few strokes to his cock and looked at you one more time, before sliding into you slowly, yet firmly. You recalled to your memory the first time he had ever touched you, denying you an orgasm with his fingers; then the next time, in which he made you cum a lot of times with a vibrator and his fingers; and the last time, when you gave him your head.

You tilted your head back as you felt his tip hitting your cervix and he said: “Oh, God…you’re so tight and you’ve fucking took all of me”, Ransom brought his hands on your breasts and gave both of them a steady squeeze, before staring moving inside you.

He had been with thousands of girls before you came into his life -or better, before he realized that the girl he had been waiting for was right in front of his eyes-, and right there, in that moment, he understood that he would have spent his entire life with you, if you only allowed him to.

“God, Ransom, move!”

“Gladly”, firstly he adopted a painfully slow pace, taking too many seconds to pull in and out from you. He groaned, “I promise we will make love, with candles and all the rest. But for now”, he pulled almost completely out, “I just need to fuck you”, he pulled back in with a fast movement and hit your sweet spot.

You cried out his name each time Ransom hit the right spots inside your channel. Your lips shaped in a ‘o’ as warm spread into your whole body, “Please, let me cum”.

“As you wish, babe”, his hands left your breasts and went down to your stomach, stopping just up your core. He looked at you, trying to imprint into his mind this moment -as the first of a lot of others. You were there, stretched out -and spread out- on his desk, making his dirty fantasy real. “What are you doing to me?”

“Right now? I’m letting you fuck me stupid”, you saw him smirking and increase his pace.

“Tell me how it feels”, it was an order and you never disobeyed to an order.

“God, you’re so deep”, you moaned as Ransom thrusted harder into you, “I can feel you hitting my cervix every. Fucking. Time”, you sensed the familiar warm was spreading in the pelvic region of your body, “Oh, God, I’m cumming, babe”, you let out a long, throat-scathing scream as you reached your high. You could barely breathe, at once you were worn out and extra sweaty. You let your hands fall and they hit the wooden-surface really hard.

“Babe”, Ransom managed to say while his orgasm washed over him, “Babe, you cum”.

You shifted all your weight on your elbows and lifted the upper half of your body, “I know I cum, I’ve told you so”, you raised an eyebrow at him, “Where’s the big deal?”

“Babe, you literally came. You squirted”, he ran his hand over his chest and showed you his wet palm. You looked at him in disbelief, and a little bit embarrassed -just enough to make you brush. When Ransom locked his eyes back on your face, he couldn’t help but smile, “Damn, Y/N, this is the sexiest thing ever”, he came closer to you and covered your face in wet kisses, “I want to make you squirt again. Until you’re not able to cum anymore. I’m going to fuck you for hours, for days, and I want you to cum like this every single time”, he punctuated well the last three words as he squeezed your breasts, “God, the things I’m going to do to you. The ways I’m gonna fuck you”, he picked you up and walked out of the room, holding you in his arms. “Babe, we’ve just started”.

-THE END-

Tag List:

ONLY The Assistant Series:

@sinner-as-saint

@andreasworlsboring101

@hazmyheart

@this-is-serenaa

@constantlywishingonstars

@captainchrisstan

@im-married-to-chris-evans

@aurorajuarezwolf

@vivien-1211

@beepbeepbop

@aikeia

@princess-evans-addict

@candypurplebutterfly

@salvatore1864stuff

@farihafangirls

@xoxloaveasre

@adolescences-alibi

@itsninateb

@deadpoolgirl23

@wlntrsldler

@inspiritl

@woodworthti666

weirdowithnobeardo

ALL MY STORIES:

@thummbelina

@thegetawaywriter

@coffeebooksandfandom

@kiza4

ALL CHRIS EVANS:

@stargazingfangirl18

@rororo06

@patzammit​

harrysthiccthighss

[its-sixxers]

Harmonics

Charon once played guitar - a scrap of information more precious than gold. The Lone Wanderer recalls it in the depths of her grief. Both realize that even in the wasteland, neither of them are alone. Charon x Female LW, pre-relationship.

Sorta sequel to Hobbies.

AO3 Link

Charon had mentioned he once played guitar.

Scraps of information about him were rare as intact books and Lizzy was intent on building herself a library with what was offered. Information about what he liked was most precious of all - it took her a couple of weeks to even persuade him to talk about anything beyond his contract, and a couple of months to get him talking about his own personal desires. While the faded slip of paper she kept in the inner pocket of her vault suit said otherwise, she and Charon were equals. She wanted to get him a gift to prove it.

The best part about gifts was the surprise, to Lizzy, and so tracking down a guitar presented a thorny problem indeed. Time spent apart from Charon was scant, and he seemed tense the few times she told him to go do as he pleased. When questioned on it, he said it was always more comfortable for him to stick around and her heart hurt to imagine just what was done to make him feel that way.

Still, she took advantage of what time she had - chatting to Rivet City merchants about possible sightings while Charon was distracted, slipping Crazy Wolfgang fifty caps to keep an eye out as Charon inspected a shotgun grip. Lizzy lingered in the magazine and instrument sections of libraries, sneaking reading material into her bag to figure out just what went into making a guitar work. She even made up an excuse to get them into the area of Agatha’s cabin so that she could check in with the violinist and see if her plan was feasible - and found to her delight that yes, it was.

Crazy Wolfgang eventually came through for her with the guitar, and she enlisted Butch’s help in delivering it unseen. To Lizzy’s despair, the strings were broken or rusted away, but Butch reassured her that at least the body was good, giving it a rap with his knuckles to prove his point. So her search narrowed from a guitar to strings, and even as her work for her father and the Brotherhood picked up she kept an eye out for her quarry. The nights she spent in Megaton (growing increasingly rare, with how much DC needed her) saw her sanding out splinters from the guitar body and varnishing it as best she could. Lizzy winced to see that polish only seemed to bring out a bloodstain on the thing more, but supposed Charon wouldn’t mind.

Blood was just another part of living in the wasteland, natural as snow or rain.

Lizzy soon learned the full breadth of what that meant, and the guitar was forgotten.

Her father’s death made her forget a lot of things - forget why she was trying to put one foot in front of the other, forget that her suffering was echoed by so many other poor souls out in the world. Weeks were spent in a hazy state, eating only at Charon’s urging and starting to dip into the few bottles of alcohol she’d collected. The growing cold outside mirrored the numbness that was spreading through her after she found she had no tears left to cry.

Charon spent more time apart from her out of necessity - it was he who went to see what the caravans had now, who went to Gob’s Saloon to find out the news, who even braved getting them raw meals from the Brass Lantern. When she slept in (slept was a generous term, for she often spent upwards of an hour lying limply in bed in the morning) he’d place a large hand on her shoulder to wake her. His contract meant he had to keep her alive - at least, that was what she told herself. Nothing more.

It was when Charon was out doing yet another thing that used to be her responsibility that she heard a knock on the door. Lizzy dragged herself from the couch where she’d been re-reading the same sentence of her book for the past thirty minutes and tugged open the front door of her Megaton home.

Butch stood with his leather jacket zipped up and knit mittens on his hands, holding a small box. Snowflakes stuck to his pompadour as he fell, and with every exhale his breath puffed out in a fog, reminding her of how they pretended it was smoke back in the vault’s freezer as children. Lizzy could remember the look of horror on her father’s face when he discovered them, her own bewilderment as to how the place could be dangerous. She flinched from the memory, and her dry eyes stung.

“Hey.” Butch said, his smile faltering at the sight of her. While not vain by any means, Lizzy had always placed importance on looking professional and put together - now she couldn’t remember the last time she brushed her hair.

“Hey.” she replied flatly, hand leaning limply against the doorway, subconsciously trying to bar him from entering. Lizzy couldn’t bear the sight of his smile, how it reminded her of the vault, of times when it felt like she’d follow in her father’s footsteps and everything was warm and bright. The fact that she felt such a way toward her best friend in the world filled her with guilt, her cup already overflowing. Guilt was the one emotion that broke through the numbness, and she was drowning in it.

“I found something in Rivet City Supply.” he began. “Had to cash in a favor with Seagrave, but I thought you’d like to see.”

In spite of herself, Lizzy’s eyes dropped to the box in his hands, curiosity sparking for the briefest of moments. Butch moved his thumb from the label, and in faded ink she could read “BKM Guitar Strings”. The cellophane window of the box was still intact, and within she could see shining metal strings.

“You came all this way…” Lizzy’s throat was dry from lack of use, most of the communication she’d done with Charon nonverbal. “... to give me these?”

“I know you were looking for them.” Butch looked over her shoulder and into the house, likely searching for Charon judging by what he said next. “For the big guy.” He held the box out to her, and she took it from him. “I’m gonna be staying up at Gob’s for the next couple’a days. I’d stay and chat now, but Moira wants to interview me about hairstyling.” He made a display of rolling his eyes, and Lizzy knew he was just making up an excuse.

It was a feeling the two of them shared, pain from family. A wish to keep their grief hidden, to keep it manageable and clean. For all the teasing he’d done to her in their childhood, he knew precisely when and how to dodge a painful subject entirely.

Sensation hummed in her fingertips, brushing the old cardboard and tingling in the cold. Lizzy nodded. “I’ll stop by.” she said, not entirely certain it was a lie. The guitar. She’d forgotten about the guitar, an idea born of the time before, when the sun wasn’t so cold and remote. Now the project was rekindled in her mind, something separate from the cloud that loomed over her.

Butch tilted his chin up in acknowledgement. “Say hi to the big guy for me.”

“You’ll probably see him on your way out.”

“He’s a hard guy to miss, I’ll give you that.” He laughed, turning back to Megaton’s many platforms. He cast her one last concerned look over his shoulder before she shut the door.

Lizzy moved faster than she had in weeks, the metal stairwell echoing from her hurried footsteps. She took the box into her room and shut the door before falling to her knees and crawling forward to her bed. Setting the box upon the mattress she set her palms flat against the cold metal floor, finding the panel she was looking for and pulling it open, revealing a floor compartment. Within were her most treasured possessions - her mother’s holotapes, the photographs from her tenth and sixteenth birthdays with Dad and Jonas, Butch’s first leather jacket. With them were items of value - an engraved magnum, an intact camera and film, a half empty bottle of scotch, and the guitar body. Lizzy pulled it out of the hidden floor compartment and retrieved a rolled up instructional booklet from inside of it.

The next two hours were spent sat on her bed with necessary tools in hand, stringing the guitar. Idle hands are the devil’s playthings, the saying went - and with her hands put to work Lizzy was incapable of thinking of the guilt that threatened to drown her. At some point Charon returned, and his knock at her door startled her terribly.

Lizzy froze, vaguely recollecting that surprise was a large part of why she’d gone to such lengths. If she was discovered now, all the work had been for nothing - and she couldn’t bear something else hoped for being snuffed out. To her relief, Charon did not try to enter. She must have made a noise when he startled her, for he seemed satisfied enough that she was still alright judging by his retreating footsteps.

Soon after her work was complete, and she almost wept on the instrument from relief. So much work, so much time, and now she had something in her arms to show for it, unlike…

Unlike…

It reminded her why venturing out of her carefully constructed bubble was a mistake, for she had no cushioning, no numb protection to the raw assault of memory. A hand pressed to glass, fingerprints on the glass, the geiger counter, the geiger counter -

The bath faucet in the other room turned on, the movement of the water through pipes gently rattling the wall the bathroom shared with her room. It brought her back to the present, staring down at the guitar. Lizzy mopped at her wet cheeks, clinging to the last stage of her project. The gifting itself. Thinking up solutions to the problem crowded out her memory - Charon only took what was directly offered to him if it was ammunition or a grenade. With food or medical supplies, she’d have to make a point of having it appear as if she was doing it for her own sake and creating plausible deniability - a gift of convenience.

When she cracked open her bedroom door, she could hear water splashing from the bathroom next door, the familiar sound of Charon’s large form sinking into it. Even in her state she felt a little swell of happiness to know that he was willing to let himself have such a luxury. Assured he’d be kept busy more than long enough for her to do what she had planned, she picked up the guitar by the neck and crept downstairs into the living room. A fire crackled away happily in the wood burning stove in the corner devoted to the kitchen, and the ground floor was much warmer than her room. It was too warm - too close to reminding her what times before felt like, and so she hurried. Approaching the couch, she set the guitar down in Charon’s favorite spot, in front of the blanket Moira had crocheted her as a housewarming present.

As soon as she was certain the guitar wasn’t going to fall over, she retreated back into the familiar territory of her bedroom. The chill washed over her, icing out not just the wave of memory threatening to drown her again but the fluttering embers of joy her work had given her.

Lizzy stumbled over to her bed and fell upon the mattress. The haze began anew.

When she returned downstairs in the night to grab a bottle of water, the guitar was gone.

--

Charon didn’t mention the gift, but the next day he woke her with breakfast and an announcement.

“I believe it is best that we go somewhere today.”

Lizzy hauled herself upright and looked at him blankly, her fork scooping up small portions of instamash. “Where?”

While his stony posture and expression didn’t change, she heard him exhale in relief. “Gob’s. They think I’ve kidnapped you.”

“Mm.” she hummed, finding she didn’t feel strongly one way or another. Lizzy didn’t protest when Charon handed her a brush in exchange for her empty plate, and soon she was bundled up and shuffling through the snow to Gob’s Saloon.

Butch was eating breakfast, and Nova’s face lit up to catch sight of her. She poked her head into the back room, and soon Gob was walking out of the kitchen wiping his hands with a rag. Charon placed a hand to the small of Lizzy’s back and gave her a gentle nudge forward.

The next period of time - Lizzy had lost the ability to gauge its passage - was a mirror world of normal circumstance - now it was Lizzy giving short and clipped responses to any conversation, and Charon exchanging longer sentences. What was discussed left her memory the moment it was spoken, and soon enough Charon was tugging her hat back over her ears and guiding her back outside.

“Charon.” Lizzy murmured, when they were back outside. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Is that an order?”

“No.”

He nodded briefly, strands of patchy red hair falling across his brow. “It is my duty to protect you.”

It was all he offered in reply, and she accepted it as she always did.

Going out was a mistake, she realized that night - new color was given to her nightmares, the armored men who’d broken into the Memorial breaking into the Saloon as she visited, the scene melting into Butch, Gob, and Nova staring up at her with glassy eyes, melting into her father’s kind face, gone slack, the tick tick tick ramping into a metallic screech with exploding rads, Charon’s arms tugging her away-

Charon.

Lizzy blearily opened her eyes, greeted by the sight of her room illuminated in the deep blue of early dawn. It was a welcome sight, an escape from the nightmare, and she lay with her cheek crushed against the mattress staring at the wall until the blue light started to tinge pink and sleep threatened to claim her once again.

Movement had to be made, and with great effort Lizzy untangled herself from the blankets, coiled around her from the thrashing she’d no doubt done in her sleep. When she opened her door she was surprised to find the door across the hall that led to Charon’s room was wide open, granting her a rare glimpse of his spartan quarters. He never needed to sleep much, but the pre-dawn was early even for him. The change made a bubble of dread rise in her throat - and she walked to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face.

The pipes groaned when she turned the tap, the water cold enough to make her gasp when she splashed it on her face with cupped hands. It shocked her out of her dream state and brought reality into sharp focus.

In her new clarity, she could hear something faint coming from downstairs once the pipes had settled, and it took her a few moments to register that it was music. It sounded nothing like the radio, lacking distortion and also entirely different from anything played on it. Guitar strings, plucked one by one in a simple melody. Lizzy took a few steps out onto the landing, and peered as far over the railing as she dared to the living room.

Charon sat on the couch with the guitar in his lap, dwarfed by his large form. He was twisting the metal tabs on the guitar’s head, plucking a few notes, then twisting another - she recalled from the books she’d read that he was tuning it, something she lacked the knowledge and equipment to do. The metal floor panel beneath her right foot creaked, and he lifted his gaze to meet hers.

Caught out, she froze, horrified that she’d made a misstep and seen something she shouldn’t have - but Charon just dropped his attention back to the guitar, unperturbed. He plucked a few more notes before giving the guitar a single strum. The sound reverberated through her small shack, and caused goosebumps to rise on the back of her neck.

When the echo of the strum faded he started playing properly, and Lizzy found herself slowly descending the stairs, the torn hem of her nightgown trailing behind her. Slowly she approached the living room, feet thankful to move from cold metal to throw rug. The music was a siren song, simple and warm notes intertwining in a rhythmic and almost hypnotic pattern. Truly hypnotizing was seeing Charon’s hands at work, large fingers suddenly dextrous and precise, hands that seemed built to destroy dancing up and down the guitar neck.

Another low sound joined the melody, and it took her a moment to realize Charon was humming, a bassy rumble of thunder. It had her sinking into the armchair across from the couch, and still Charon did not seem to mind - his attention was caught in his music, the few glances he cast her way seeming more incidental than anything.

Then he began to sing.

Not in a language she could understand - at first she thought he’d made up the sounds, so musically did it flow, but soon she recognized it had the same intonations and cadence as the few unfamiliar terms he’d used around her before. He sang as lowly as he spoke, warm and rasping as a campfire. The melody was terribly melancholy, but to her surprise Lizzy found it did not make her sad.

It made her feel understood.

The two of them sat only a few feet apart, the ambient blue light fading into the pink of sunrise. Shafts of golden light spilled through the holes in the roof. In the warmth of dawn, even Charon’s features were softened. For those few minutes the small space seemed another world, their exteriors cut open and bared to the other, each observing but saying nothing. When he made eye contact with her after trailing off of a particularly low and mournful note, she realized that she did not suffer alone.

Something about it comforted her. When at last Charon placed his palm over the strings to silence them and set the guitar aside, she inhaled sharply as she had when she splashed the cool water onto her face.

“What was it about?” she asked quietly, and to her surprise he smiled tiredly at her - a rarer sight than diamonds.

“A warning.”

Lizzy stared at him for several moments, watching the muscles in his jaw work - as if trying to work up the words to say something more. Whatever battle he fought, he lost.

“Thank you.” she said, more a whisper than anything - but he heard it in the still silence of dawn.

Charon nodded, breaking eye contact and staring at his lap for a few moments before standing. “I will get us some food.”

“No, it’s okay.” Lizzy interjected, at last finding it in her to smile. “I’ll make it.”

[firstagent]

Review! Digimon Adventure: (2020) Episode 51: The Mystery Hidden Within the Crests

In this episode, a research consortium pulls the team aside and forces them to wonder about the crests they’ve been ignoring since the very beginning.

In case you needed any more proof that the fight against Millenniumon was a fleeting and relatively insignificant moment in the series, consider how quickly everyone moves on to other business. Without a moment’s hesitation, with barely a second thought, everybody is ready for the next thing. It’s as if Millenniumon was never the cataclysmic battle the show spent twenty episodes assuring us it was. As a way to set up the next arc, this could be far worse. There’s a promise of another major clash, a mystery to investigate, and a genuinely interesting development poking out from the background. But its entire premise underscores just how badly the kids refuse to consider their own situation and complacently ride the rails the world puts them on.

Even if we the audience know the adventure isn’t over, it would have been awfully nice if the kids themselves believed it a little longer. They get their moment on the hillside to relax for a minute—they’ve earned that—but before they get a chance to really ask the question, Garbemon buzzes them with their next instructions. Mimi’s rightfully annoyed at the interruption, but everyone’s quick to end their break and pop off to the next thing. For all that we’re supposed to believe they’ve gone through, there’s no sign of weariness, no thoughts of going home, and only the tiniest echoes of hope that this was the end. This isn’t the only season guilty of ignoring this (Xros Wars even doubles down when only Akari seems to show trip fatigue), but it’s another missed opportunity to humanize the kids a little before returning to business.

Garbemon leads them to an impressive research facility, populated by scattered cameos and Wisemon from Xros Wars. But rather than experimenting on the kids ahead of Millenniumon’s revival, they’ve been hard at work investigating data and hosting the giant crests hovering over an altar. The result of their research? Absolutely nothing. They spin that as a positive, a known mystery they’re curious to have no data on, suggesting that it goes further back than recorded history. It’s a legitimate mindset, but it also takes away any purpose beyond translating whatever future discoveries the kids are bound to make. Oh, and making the kids actually think about this stuff for once.

It’s amazing how little thought the kids have put into where they are and what they’re being dragged through. The crests have consistently appeared before them to boost their power at opportune moments, but not a single one of them has given it a second thought. Koshiro dismissed them as some sort of ID tag, despite bearing no resemblance to the written Digital World language he’s encountered before. Even then, he didn’t bother bringing it up until now. Given the power that they surely must have recognized is attached to those symbols, why should they be so surprised to see them on ancient pedestals? Why wouldn’t they want to understand the significance of them, especially when they’re unique to each individual and the reward is maximizing the power they generate? That’s power they should have needed against what they should have believed was the ultimate enemy.

Considering how much Millenniumon had been hyped, they’re not that shocked to know there’s something worse beyond him. Clearly they noticed how easily he went down too. The Great Catastrophe is too vague to think about right now, but the fact that the Soundbirdmon are back and unleashing attacks speaks to… something relevant. So is the sudden inability for Patamon and Tailmon to evolve. It’s a good thing there are interesting tidbits in all that, because there was nothing special in that fight with the Kirby knockoff.

There’s also something kind of interesting about the compasses all pointing in different directions. It’s the first time the show suggested the kids’ paths are supposed to be different. It acknowledges that they’re different people, their crests mean different things, and they’re going to behave differently to reach their full potential. Because after fifty episodes, they haven’t yet. They’ve been almost entirely uniform in their thinking, with no disagreements in sight. So that lack of foundation makes it easy to be cynical about this gesture. You’d be inclined to dismiss this as an excuse to split up the party again.

My Grade: C

Loose Data:

How embarrassing for the kids that they hadn’t questioned the crests at all while Garbemon gets a glimpse at one and immediately recognizes its significance and drops everything else to research it.

Given its previous usages in the franchise, the mad Yggdrasil vibes coming out of this research facility are awfully strange. No points if it turns out that was intentional.

The return of the Soundbirdmon is very notable as it harkens back to the Devimon faction, potentially independent from the Millenniumon camp. Two different enemy camps would have been kind of fun if they had clashed for more than five seconds and if we hadn’t long forgotten about the Devimon camp.

Between the focus on the mountain of unsortable junk data at the facility Burpmon spitting out Garbemon because he doesn’t like garbage, you would have thought the solution would be using the unappetizing junk to deter him from eating the fighters or their attacks. But no, it was using whatever they had lying around to stuff his pie hole! He’ll eat junk just fine; Garbemon was just a red herring.

It took them ten episodes to drive from the area around the hot spring to FAGA. It took them half a second to get from FAGA to the research center. Watch how little time it takes to get from the research center back to the hot spring.

Actually, how weird is it that Joe’s solution to Patamon and Tailmon’s inability to evolve is to take them to a spa treatment at an notoriously unwelcoming hot spring?

See reviews of every Digimon episode at Digimon: System Restore! Support the site by joining our Patreon!

[peppersonironi]

For @duketectivecomics‘s Duke Week Day Five: Leadership (A day late, I know, but I had wifi trouble)

Summary: Nightwing offers Signal a chance to lead a small group for a mission. Duke is wary, but accepts the challenge. He proves to be a rather great leader.

Notes: Takes place after Season Two of Young Justice, and ignores Season Three (I still haven’t seen it, unfortunately).

“So will you do it?” Duke looked over at Dick, who had decided to brave the day as Nightwing in order to ask a favor.

“I’m not sure, Nightwing, That’s your team, and I’m perfectly happy taking care of Gotham.”

Dick pouted and dramatically flung himself over the nearest gargoyle. “You sure? I could really use the help. Don't you want to lend aid to your poor, poor brother?”

“You are literally a billionaire.”

“Ha ha, Signal. You know what I mean.”

Duke sighed and joined Dick beside the gargoyle. “Yeah, I do. Are you sure you need me? Why not Tim? Steph? Heck, even Damian would love the chance to boos those guys around.”

Dick sighed. “I told you, The mission occurs at the same time as one on the opposite side of the world, which I already have Tim scheduled for. Steph is woking a case in Hong Kong with Cass. And Frankly, I doubt the Team would appreciate Damian's … style of leadership. This one is smaller, and less of a priority. I have some of the newbies and more older members on it, but none of them have experience with leading stealth missions.”

“So give one of them the experience!” Duke was getting a bit exasperated. Why did Dick think it would be a good idea to handle a mission on a covert team he'd never even met before?

“It's not that simple.” Dick frowned. “This mission is time sensitive, and delicate. It really does need someone with experience leading it, but all my best people are elsewhere.”

Duke tilted his head, considering. “Why me?”

Dick laughed. “Why NOT you? Seriously, Signal. You handled a whole group of Robins, by yourself. No Batman. You proved yourself, and you've earned respect. I trust you with this.”

Duke considered, thinking through everything Dick had said. “Alright,” He sighed, “What's the mission?”

*****

“Team, I'd like you to meet Signal. He'll be joining you on the mission, as well as over seeing things.” Nightwing stood at the front of the group of heroes, turning to where Duke had just come in from the zeta tubes.

Duke walked forward, surveying the group. “ 'Sup?” He asked, unsure of what else to say.

“Signal, meet Beast Boy, Kid Flash, Wonder Girl, and Blue Beatle.”

Duke nodded and extended his hand, “Nice to meet you.”

“I've been waiting to meet you for so long, dude!” Kid Flash said, racing forward to shake Duke's hand. “I've heard all about you, but the dates on when you actively joined the guys in Gotham were murky, and since I couldn't ask Nightwing or Robin – wait, does that mean Tim's no longer Robin? Why didn't he say anything? Unless the history books got it wrong, in which case woah, sorry I said anything – anyway  it was a bit of a tricky situation. Of course, I probably could have looked it up on the internet, but that feels like cheating y'know?”

Duke blinked several times. “Um, thanks, I guess? I didn't really think anyone bothered with me.”

“Are you kidding?!” Kid Flash was literally bouncing at this point. “You're one of the coolest bats! You patrol during the day, for one thing, plus your costume is pretty crash. Not to mention you're literally the only meta human Batman has ever let stay in Gotham! Although Black Bat might be one, no one was ever really clear on that.”

“You're a meta human?!” Beast Boy asked, shoving Kid Flash to the side. “Seriously? And you work with Batman?! How does that work?”

Duke laughed. “Yes, I am a meta. No, Black Bat isn't. She's just awesome. And I was Batman's protege before I gained my powers. When we found out, we kinda just rolled with it.”

“Translation,” Nightwing added, “He grumbled a bit before deciding that the rule only really covers Green Lantern.”

“Didn't it always though?” Duke asked his brother.

Nightwing laughed. “Probably. He never seemed to keen on Superman either, to be honest.”

Duke frowned. “Wait, then why did he stop by for tea last week?”

“Wait, he did?! Why wasn't I invited?!”

Duke shook his head and tsked. “Downside to no longer living at the house dude, that's all I'm saying.”

The Team was looking back and forth at the exchange. “Wait,” Blue Beatle said, holding up his hands. “Superman comes over for tea, at Batman's house, which you live in, but Nightwing doesn't anymore?”

“Yup,” Both of the bats said.

Blue Beatle blinked, then nodded. “Alright then.”

“What are your powers,” Wonder girl asked.

“Light stuff, basically,” Duke said. “I can see in several different light spectrums, lets me do a bunch of stuff, like limited x-ray vision. I can also 'replay' what happens in rooms, due to the light residue. I can also see a few seconds into the future.”

Everyone blinked at him.

“Not to mention you can control shadows!” Nightwing added helpfully.

Duke cringed. “Yeah, but that's new. I'm not really familiar with it.”

Everyone stared, except Kid Flash, who just continued bouncing.

“Alright,” Nightwing said after a moment, “Let's get on with the briefing.”

*****

The mission was simple: Infiltrate a high rise owned by Lex Luther in San Francisco, and retrieve information that was being stored on a hard drive. Said drive was only going to be present in the tower for twelve hours, nine of which Lex was also present. Hence the need for a small team, and the precise timing.

The infiltration was scheduled at 1400 hours, after Lex had left for lunch, and before the buyer of the information had arrived. Duke had been given the plans of the building, and multiple suggested strategies. One of these strategies was modified by Duke, and was what led Beast Boy (who insisted Duke call him Garth) turning into a fly in order to get through the vents.

“Are you sure I can't go for something more fun?” Garth asked on the way to San Francisco, “Like a snake? Maybe even a monkey!”

“No,” Duke had said, “A fly is the best option, it's the least likely to set off motion sensors.” At the disappointed face, however, Duke conceded, “You can be a monkey when you open the side entrance.” Garth had whooped in triumph, and Duke had to crack a smile.

Once Beast Boy had managed to get into the building, he made his way to the main security center and dismantled whatever detection systems Lex had in place, allowing Kid Flash (Bart, Duke learned) and Signal himself to make their entrance. The trio made their way to Lex's office, only needing to take out a single guard, and retrieve the hard drive from one of Lex's many (There were like thirty, sheesh) safes in the room. The cracking of said safe took longer than initially planned, but Duke managed to hack the system in time for the guard change. Boy was he glad Tim taught him how to hack.

With the target in hand, they made their way out to the back alley, where Blue Beatle (Jaime, he said his name was) and Wonder Girl (Cassie) were keeping watch. They were almost caught at one point, but Duke saw the guards coming and quickly shoved his teammates into a closet, along with himself. In the end, two guards who were lagging behind on their shift change intercepted them, but Blue Beetle knocked one out, and Wonder Girl got the other.

“Took you long enough,” Cassie said with a grin when she saw the trio returning.

Duke grinned right back at her. “You have any trouble?”

“If these two count as trouble,” She replied, kicking one of the goons.

“Sounds crash!” Kid Flash replied. “How about we get out of here before something blows up?”

Duke frowned. “Why would anything blow up?”

Everyone turned and gave him a look. “You'd be surprised,” Blue Beetle said.

“Better not jinx it, then.” Duke spook, and the team made their escape.

*****

“ - Complete insubordination! Do you know what you did?!”

Duke paused at the doors, looking in on the meeting room where he and the others were supposed to go for their debriefing. Turns out, the other part of the Team was already there, and being chewed out by Batman himself.

“This was supposed to be a covert mission, and you go and get the entire building blown up!” Huh, they weren't kidding about explosions, Duke thought. “You clearly disobeyed the mission parameters, opting instead to joyride with the robots you were sent to destroy! Do you know how many lives you put in danger?!”

“It wasn't our fault!” Tim Drake, better known as Red Robin (Though Duke thought Bart mention that he still went as Robin here? Boy, Damian was gonna be pissed!) told Batman. “The robots got activated remotely, and dragged us along. In the end, they self destructed!”

Batman sighed, and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “I let Kaldur go one one vacation …”

“You can at least acknowledge we got the job done.” Tim said, and Bruce sighed once more. He looked so tired, and Duke could barely hold in a grin. From the scared faces of everyone else in the room, Duke gathered that no one else found it quite so funny.

“Yes, you got it done,” Batman conceded, “But your methods are far from acceptable! All of you need to reevaluate how you-”

“It's almost kinda funny when I'm not the one being chewed out!” Duke turned to find Jaime and Garth standing in the door beside him, the latter of whom had spoken.

“Oh it's definitely funny,” Duke replied. “I've had front row seats to these types of things since I joined the bats. I”m almost never the one in trouble. Surprised it's Tim, though. Usually Nightwing.”

Both of their eyes widened. “Nightwing is the one in trouble?”

“Yup. We – the other bats and I – have a running bet on how long the rants last. B's best record is two hours, fifty minutes, thirty-seven seconds. It was right after Nightwing spray painted the bat-suit glittery pink, though I'm pretty sure Spoiler helped.”

Jaime opened and closed his mouth for a few moments. “Wow.”

Just then, Bart and Cassie showed up. “Are we late for the debriefing?” The latter asked.

Duke shrugged and pointed into the room, where Batman had moved onto a rant about aerial combat and unneeded fuel. “Nope, There's is running late.”

The group turned and went back to viewing the scene before them. After another fifteen minutes, Batman said. “I have another team coming in soon for debriefing, so let's hope that they were at least partially competent.”

Duke thought that would be as good a place as any to make an entrance, so he brought his fist to his mouth and coughed a bit.

Everyone turned slowly to find the grinning group standing at the doorway.

“Signal,” Batman said, and Duke knew he was relieved, “Did you just get back?”

“We've been standing here for twenty minutes, B. Seriously, your lecturing skills have not gone unpracticed.”

Batman sighed, putting his fingers on the bridge of his nose, not a sight unfamiliar to Duke, but from the gaping mouths, Duke was pretty sure no one else thought anything about the exchange was normal. “Please tell me your mission went well?”

“Without a hitch,” Duke replied grinning. “We got in and out easily. Had a tad of trouble with hacking the safe, but we got it open.” Duke turned to Tim, “Thanks for those lessons last week, they really paid off.”

Tim grinned “Welcome. Wanna continue when we get home?”

Duke nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Were there any complications?” Batman growled.

“We took out three guards quietly, and avoided two more that I saw coming right before they turned a corner, but other than that, no.”

Batman glared suspiciously down at Duke, who only smiled. “Any explosions?”

Duke frowned. “What is it with this team and explosions?” Batman glared some more, “Calm down B, no explosions. Everything was quiet.”

Batman nodded. “Good job, Signal. You dropped off the target with Nightwing, I assume?” At Duke's nod, he continued, “You get head back to Gotham, then. Finish your report in the cave, and finish up your patrol if you want. I'll make a note on the file if we ever need you again.” He paused, and looked critically at Duke. “Would you?”

Duke looked back at Garth, Jaime, Bart, and Cassie, who were all nodding their heads furiously. “Sure,” Duke said, “Why not?”