#quips and curiosities (memes);;

[lalunanymph]

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── gojo never thought he would see the day when he would be in this situation: helplessly bound and gagged, watching his best friend of over 20 years fuck his wife on their marital bed.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── you're now reading . . . 𝐂𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐎𝐋𝐃 + 𝐂𝐔𝐌 𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 + 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐆𝐄 with gojo satoru & geto suguru

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── wife!reader, fem!reader, consensual cuckholding, cheating insecurities, bondage, panty gag, nipple play, cum eating, oral s[e]x, riding, gojo's inhumane strength + flexibility

⇤flip back to the pervtober masterlist

As much as he was the strongest sorcerer in the world, there was one thing Gojo Satoru was hesitant to do—and that was to share the things he loved.

Anytime his students made eyes at a sweet treat he held in his hand, or when Nobara tried to “borrow” his black card, he would divert them with a sarcastic quip or annoy them until they dropped it.

But, if push came to shove, Gojo supposes he could share—especially when if it was with his best friend of 20 over years, Suguru Geto. 

In hindsight, Satoru and Suguru had a lot of things in common.

The same initials, the same cut of uniform, their eerily uncanny height. Even their shared love for obscure memes bonded them together.

But, one thing Gojo never expected to share with his best friend? 

You—his own, sweet wife. 

It wasn’t the kind of threesome you would find in a sappy porno. Gojo was unsure how he had let you lead him into this situation, but you must’ve been a lustful curse reincarnated in the form of a beautiful woman. 

He couldn’t resist your pretty doe eyes or your glossy lips twisted into a pout when you whined, “Please, Satoru? Can you do it for me?” 

Sure, he was a menace half of the time, but Satoru would lay the heavens and earth by your feet the second you asked him to. 

So, when you brought up the idea of a threesome, he was intrigued. After all, the both of you were pretty adventurous in the sack, and he couldn’t deny how sexy it was to imagine you with another woman. 

Except, you requested for someone else completely different.

You had asked him to share you with Suguru.

The kicker was, Satoru thought he would at least get some action. But, when you shared how it would turn you on to no end to see him all tied up and helpless, his curiosity was kicked up a notch.

Gojo was the type of man who would try anything once, even if the idea sounded absolutely awful.

So, here he was, right in the middle of his marital bed, all tied up prettily with some red jute rope that contrasted perfectly with his marble pale skin. You were straddling his lap, clad in a skimpy black thong and bralette which barely covered your heaving tits as you kissed him over and over again.

“Fuck—mhm,” Gojo groaned when you sucked on his bottom lip. Satoru loved it when you got this horny for him; it made him feel like the only man on this planet to get you this vulnerable and impure.

Except, he wasn’t. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t stop thinking about how he would feel when Geto arrived. The same Geto who had been there for him through thick and thin—who had been his best man at his own wedding. That Geto who was currently on his way over to his mansion, ready to fuck his lovely wife without a shred of hesitation. 

You bit on his lower lip, bringing back his attention to the task at hand. “You look so pretty, ‘Toru,” you purred in a husky whisper, running your soft hands down his sculpted chest. The diamond patterns dug into his skin, sure to leave an imprint behind when you released those binds later. Satoru fixed those beautiful, baby blue eyes onto you, and it shouldn’t turn you on this much to see him already halfway ruined for you.

“Baby, please,” he mumbled, and you felt his cock straining behind his sweatpants; itching to be buried in your tight heat. 

“Ssh,” you murmured, and he shivered when your red-tipped nails caught on his nipples. You pinched and flicked those pink nubs until they stiffened, an undeniable sign of his pure desire for you. “Let me take care of you, Satoru.” 

The sound of his name leaving your lips made a shiver wrack up his spine. Satoru held his breath when you kissed down his neck and collarbone, leading your painted red lips right to his pelvic bone. 

His cock stirred when you began to palm it, licking your lips when you noticed a growing wet patch on the front of his pants. 

“Already hard for me, baby?” you traced the shape of his leaking head with one teasing finger. “You need to have more self-control than that.”

If he was being honest, this was his karma for always stringing you on and denying your orgasms. Gojo could feel the frustration burning deep inside of him. For a man who was used to getting everything, having you within reach was the worst torture of his life.

He was close enough to ripping the ropes off and fucking you, when your sweet laughter chimed in his roaring ears. Your deviousness took him off guard when you slipped your hand under the waistband of his pants, finding his leaky cock and fisting it gently. 

Without a second of hesitation, you stroked him from base to tip, enjoying how his body jerked forward violently. The veins on his neck were popping, the one on his forehead almost bulging out as you twisted your wrist, feigning a sweet coo of apology when you grazed his balls.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, baby,” you whispered in fake sympathy. “Too sensitive?” 

“Gah—ugh,” Gojo gasped out, almost throwing you off his body with a sharp buck of his hips. 

The taste of his cock beckoned you to take it up a notch, and you didn’t fight back the urge. Scooting down the length of his longer torso, you gently drew down the waistband of his already soiled pants, greeted by the sight of his stiff cock rising in full mast. 

Satoru really did have the prettiest dick in the game. Girthy and longer than average with a vein running from base to tip, it begged for a mouth to salivate all over it. 

Gently kissing the flushed head, you heard him whine out your name. “Stop teasing me,” he huffed, pouting and looking so cute covered with sweat. “You’re being way too mean, pumpkin.”

He would believe your giggle to be innocence incarnate if only you didn’t do what you did next. 

Your tongue—that devilish trickster who could make him cum or cry depending on your mood—swiped over his weeping slit, toying with a string of precum connecting the supple flesh to that pink muscle. You shamelessly made out with his swollen tip, licking and sucking the mushroom-shaped head without any care to its poor, overstimulated owner. 

Satoru cried out, his abs undulating and clenching. Those blue eyes eclipsed over with immense need, going half-mast. But, you spared him no mercy.

Taking him down your throat was done with little to no resistance. Gojo’s lustful cries rebounded across the painted walls, his tied hands behind his back clenching and fisting the soft duvet to ground himself from the unending pleasure.

Your talented mouth worked up and down his length, and he really wished he hadn’t agreed to such stupid games—Gojo had never wanted to fuck you as badly as he did now, when he wasn’t allowed to.

“Fuck,” he mumbled coarsely, completely fixated on your face when you deep-throated him. Gojo couldn’t stop himself from throbbing all over at the sight of your throat bulging with the thick of him. 

It drove him close to insanity at how talented you were—your angelic mewls and moans spurring him on. 

His mouth fell open, lax and panting. “B-baby… please…” 

He had no idea what he was begging for, but he was solely motivated by the sweetest release you were constantly denying him. 

Whenever he approached his high, you would slow down your movements, or remove your mouth completely from his length. It frustrated him to no end, and the effect was imminent when his cock wouldn’t stop leaking milky white rivulets onto your palm. 

Giggling like the tease you were, you removed your thong, glistening and sticky with your juices to stuff it into his mouth. 

Satoru was a sight—cheeks flushed, frosty bangs stuck to his forehead with sweat, mouth crammed full of lace. 

You wished you could take a photo or a video so the filthy sight would stick with you longer.

But, your time with Satoru’s obedience was running short. The strongest sorcerer was close enough to snapping out of his bondage and fucking you six ways into Sunday. You could taste his humiliation on the tip of your tongue, his impatience bleeding right through the air.

Geto should be here any minute now.

As if on cue, the front door opened, and both you and Satoru perked up.

His muffled moans were pathetic at best and panicked at worst. He would never imagine being in this position, not in a thousand years. 

He was Gojo Satoru—the chosen one, the heavenly one. To be debased right in his own marital bed by the woman who wore his commitment around her left finger was a considerable feat.

But, here he was, humbled right into his own Egyptian cotton sheets, while Geto stood by the doorway, dressed in a button down shirt and slacks. His best friend took one look at him—the rope harness wrapped around his torso and the thong prised in between his teeth—and chuckled.

“Hey, Satoru.”

Geto tossed him an easy smile as he made his way towards the bed, every lanky fibre in his 6’4 body fused with amusement. “Getting comfortable?” 

Satoru’s glare was a sudden contrast from his usual jovial expression, and it would’ve been disconcerting had the stuck thong in his mouth not ruined the effect. 

You giggled, batting your eyelashes at Suguru. 

“I made him extra comfy, Suguru.”

Something about you saying Geto’s name, all sweet and teasing, made Satoru see red.

He huffed and groaned, shifting in his position like he was trying to sit up. 

“Uh-uh,” you murmured, gently pressing one palm into his broad chest to keep him in one position. “You promised not to get jealous, ‘Toru. Remember what you said?” 

Geto sidled up behind you, those large palms sliding up your hips to rest intimately on your sternum.

“‘I can handle it’,” Geto quipped, earning another baleful glare from Satoru. “Well, you did say you were the strongest—I guess even you’re not immune to jealousy.”

Gojo swore that he was close enough to ripping through these flimsy ropes and blasting Suguru into the next dimension. It was what he should’ve been doing, but he was torn; the sight unfurling before him was too enticing to look away. 

Suguru slowly inched one hand up your chest, clasping your neck. He pulled your face close to his parted lips, devouring your open-mouthed gasp with a kiss which had you moaning wantonly.

As if Gojo was merely a side character on his own bed, you straddled Suguru, deepening the kiss. 

And Satoru had no idea what was worse—having you tease him to his wits’ end, or not even having a shred of your attention. 

Geto’s tongue sliding deep into your mouth made you cry out his name, and Satoru quickly figured out which was the biggest horror. 

It wasn’t you denying him or ignoring him—it was watching you grind on his best friend’s lap and realising he enjoyed it. 

He liked watching you lose yourself to another man, how you bloomed for someone who wasn’t your own husband. Through these lenses, he could finally see what made him always come back for more; why he barely hesitated to put a ring on your finger without a second thought.

The woman he fell in love with and married was completely beautiful in the throes of her pleasure. 

In this position, Satoru wasn’t losing himself deep in the fog of lust and missing out on your ethereal expressions or heavenly moans. He was privileged to have a front row seat to your every reaction.

He watched pleasure unfurl itself across your face—from your mouth falling open to your eyebrows pinching together—as Suguru caressed your neck and collarbone with open-mouthed kisses. Satoru barely cared about the bastard who was having you for the night; he only had eyes for you. 

Sure, Geto was pretty experienced in the bedroom judging from the number of one night stands who were desperate enough to ask him for his best friend’s number. But, he could never hold a flame to Satoru’s sensual wife.

You let Geto push you down into the sheets, right next to your bound and gagged husband. The dark-haired sorcerer chuckled, helping you remove his shirt and pants, leaving him bare except for his boxers. 

Satoru watched, ignoring how his cock twitched pathetically when the both of you started kissing again. 

This time, you used more tongue and teeth than usual, the kiss a clash of wet slurps and crisp clacking which made every hair on Gojo’s body stand.

He couldn’t stop getting an eyeful of your pink tongue stroking Suguru’s lower lip. Every chamber of his heart clenched in pure agony and ecstasy as Geto kissed his way down your body, right to the apex of your bare thighs.

Hitching your shapely legs over his shoulders, Geto shamelessly ate out another man’s wife—licking, sucking and stroking her folds and clit with his broad tongue. His hair was already in a disarray from your clutching fingers, every sweet gasp that fell from your mouth driving both men insane.

“She tastes good, Satoru,” Geto’s words shocked him back rudely to the present. The dark-haired man threw him a smirk. “I can see why you married her.”

His nostrils flared, and a strong stab of jealousy surged through his entire soul when you twined your fingers in Suguru’s hair, drawing him back to your glistening cunt.

Geto spent a few minutes driving you to the edge, and judging by your moans and heavy breathing, you were definitely close.

Your soft whimper filled Satoru with spikes of disgust mixed with prickly intrigue. You were shamelessly grinding your pussy right into Geto’s mouth, whispering his name mixed with profanities which sounded awfully close to the curses you would spout when Satoru himself was fucking you.

But, like the twisted and curious fiend he was, Gojo remained silent and pliant, letting Suguru have his way with you.

The other man unclasped your bra, tossing it to the ground and going straight for your nipples; sucking, pinching and biting down on them hard enough to earn you sweet squeaks.

Satoru was quickly turning green with jealousy at your ecstatic sounds, and soon, the doubts crept in.

Does she love me?

Did she initiate this because she’s tired of me?

Did I do something wrong?

But, Gojo already knew the answers to those debilitating questions.

He loved you with every inch of his soul. You were the one thing he looked forward to coming home at the end of every day, and the last person he wished to hold as he drifted off to sleep every night.

Satoru treated you with nothing short of respect and worship like the goddess you were.

So, if he did everything right, then where did it all go so wrong?

“‘Toru,” you whimpered, as Geto lined his cock right up to your weeping slit. You turned to him, reaching out to caress his cheek. “I love you, Satoru.” 

As if your words were coated in fairy dust, his heart almost lifted right out of his ribcage.

Your sweet smile just before Geto sank right into your tight heat was embedded in his brain. It was like he was the only man in the room, even as you were fucking another.

Geto was pushing a pace that had your toes curling and head thrown back. But, you never once broke eye contact with Satoru.

An inexplicable wave of fondness filled Gojo’s heart right to the brim, and his own brilliant blue eyes softened, focused on the planes of a familiar face he loved with his entire soul. You giggled, bright and beautiful, cheek to the pillow while your hair bled out behind you like an eloquent ink stain.

You were so incredibly gorgeous it hurt.

Satoru barely noticed when Suguru filled you up. The only indication you gave him was a pinch in your brow and a soft gasp that mellowed out into a dulcet moan. Once the other man was done using your body, you broke eye contact to meet Suguru’s gaze, a certain friendly fondness written in the corners of your lips. 

Geto planted a perfunctory kiss on your forehead, a silent ‘thank you’ for involving him in your fantasies. 

He rose from between your thighs, shooting a knowing smile to his still bound and gagged bestfriend.

“See you on Monday, Satoru.” 

Gojo grumbled, blue eyes sharp as daggers staring at his broad back as it left the sanctuary of his bedroom.

The door closed on the two of you, and you exhaled a chuckle. 

“I didn’t cum,” you mumbled, and something about those words made Satoru’s ego flare up to terrible heights. He would always make sure you climaxed at the same time he did; it must’ve either been a hard limit you set with Geto, or the other man wasn’t as good in bed as Satoru thought he was.

Your husband snorted, and you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t look so smug.” 

Satoru didn’t listen to you. He looked pleased, humming in a low tone. 

You fished out your soaked thong from between his teeth. 

Gojo stretched out his jaw, and before he could run his mouth and say something which would ruin this moment, you perched yourself on his chest, spreading your folds.

A tiny trickle of cum was oozing down your plush folds, and your husband barely felt an inch of disgust when he grinned.

“Gonna make me eat you out now, baby?” he rasped. 

You rolled your eyes again—he should really spank you silly for that—and rose on your knees, presenting your used pussy to him.

“Ready, big boy?” 

Satoru was born ready. He curled forward, wiggling further up the pillows to give himself more leverage to plant his mouth on your waiting cunt. You gasped, completely taken aback by how feverishly Gojo was eating you out—eating up his best friend’s cum from your abused hole.

Your eyes were halfway rolling back into your skull, small fingers gripping the headboard with enough strength to leave a dent behind. 

Satoru was in pure heaven—if heaven was tainted with the taste of hell. 

The bitter taste of another man lingering in between your folds filled him with a mixture of disgust and exhilaration. Never in a million years would the Satoru Gojo—the universe’s favourite and blessed one—think he would be in such a situation. This release of power filled him with a rush of disorientating high, kind of like that one time he ate twenty daifukus in one go. 

And judging from the sweet sounds you made, you were just as turned on from this taboo act as he was. 

Gojo swore he could cum from just one touch of his cock; Gojo Jr. was flushed red with neglect, begging for you to pay attention to him. 

The relief which flooded through his chest could’ve rendered him on his knees, in tears, when you pried your pussy away from him, focused now on fisting his cock.

“D-Don’t,” Gojo stuttered coarsely. “Might cum, sweetheart—f-fuck—wanna do it inside.”

His disjointed words and broken moans shot straight up in your head, leaving you dizzy with the pure power of rendering the strongest sorcerer incoherent. Gojo actually whimpered when you nudged his fat tip past your entrance, his beautiful oceanic eyes glazing over. 

“F-fuck, pumpkin,” he groaned obscenely, and you couldn’t take it anymore—bottoming out in a sharp, swift movement, the both of you crying out in ecstasy. 

“Oh, fuck,” Gojo swore lowly when you began to buckle your hips, riding him all slow and sensual. 

His head thumped back into the soft pillows, a ragged moan of surrender leaving his peachy lips. You were too distracted by how plush they looked, and pitched forward swiftly to kiss him while you rode him to oblivion.

There were no sounds in the room but both your harsh breathing. You were growing dizzier and dizzier, all the oxygen knocked out from your lungs as you tried to chase your high because as much as you were teasing Gojo, you were teasing yourself, too.

“‘Toru,” you whimpered. He eyed you rubbing your clit with pure hunger in those ethereal eyes, lost in the mind-numbing motion of you bucking your hips back and forth back and forth to take him to that sacred point. 

Your thighs were beginning to tremble, and Gojo immediately knew you were going to cum. You clamped down on him at the same time your head tossed back, and before you could comprehend, Gojo used whatever remained of his core strength to flip you onto the mattress.

With his hands tied behind his back, Satoru still managed to fuck you into the sheets. You instinctively steadied him, arms vined tightly around his shoulders. This position was incredibly intimate; you could feel his broken moans fanning across your neck, his face hidden in the crook of your jaw. Every pore of his body was bleeding into yours, the both of you physically closer than any human could be.

And yet, it wasn’t enough. You wanted to live in his skin, be one with his bones.

Satoru was a part of you, and you were a part of him. Always.

He lived in your every trembling exhale, while you made a home on his lips, where he could taste you for a lifetime of pleasure.

“I love you,” your harsh whisper made the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention. 

Roaming your hands down his broad back, you grazed your nails on his undercut, eliciting a full-bodied shiver from the strongest sorcerer.

“I love you, Satoru.”

“‘Course you do,” he grunted, lifting his face to clumsily kiss down your jaw. “M’the only one who could ever make you cum, baby.” 

And as he predicted so smugly, his words were true. 

Your connection with Gojo would forever break through any logic or emotions, even the boundaries of what your body was capable of.

In a few short minutes, you were dissolving for him, your cries of pleasure filling his ears like the prettiest sonnets. Gojo continued to fuck you through your climax, and you were too keyed up enough that you came again; your wails could’ve brought the ceiling down. White splashed out in your vision, your mouth opened in a silent scream.

A well of warmth filled you up, reclaiming his mark on your womb. 

Instantly, Gojo’s entire body weight sank into you, smothering the breath from your aching lungs.

You took a few minutes to come back to the ground, fluttering your eyes open and finding him still trying to catch his breath.

Quickly, you unwound the ropes from him, and just like you predicted, the imprints left in his skin were glorious. You held him in the seam of embrace as you massaged his aching shoulders, careful to show him more love now that he was all vulnerable and pouty.

“Satoru?” you whispered carefully.

Gojo mumbled something under his breath, and you fought back a spreading smile from how petulant he sounded.

“You alright, sweetie?” 

“Hmm,” he rubbed his cheeks into your throat like a needy kitten. “Never been better.”

“I love you, you know that?”

He hummed again. 

“Baby?” 

Tuning in fully, you nodded. “Yeah, baby?” 

“Next time I share you with Suguru, you’re gonna be the one tied up.”

Not a request; it was a statement.

You could barely wait till the next devious time.

intellectual property of ©️lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or play around with my sentence structures, plots and characterization.

[bamgyuuuri]

May I request a Beomgyu x alt singer!reader?

Kai finally forms the band he’s been dreaming of and introduces his friend group(txt) to the band members before a gig. I’ve rarely seen fics that have the reader as the alt band member, normally it’s the other way around and I think you’d do great with this scenario!! It being in Gyu’s pov would be great to see his reaction/attraction to her. The piercings and dark tones, similar to ox1=lovesong gyu. Thank you!!!🖤 absolutely love your writing style

Sorry that this is long or doesn’t make sense😭

⸝⸝ she plays bass ┈ cbg.

⸝⸝ now playing : she plays bass - beabadoobee

pairings and tags. altsinger!reader x admirer!beomgyu. love at first sight . beomgyu is absolutely and hilariously whipped . meet-cute . band shenanigans . underground music scene-esque

word count. 4.3k

short note! HIII AAAA thank you so much for this req omg im so sorry this took so so long <////3 i hope this is to your liking !!! i tried a little something different for the way i wrote this too so please do lmk what you think ~~

alt!reader, clad in a ripped mesh top over a cropped band tee, her plaid skirt layered over fishnet tights, heavy platform boots clicking against the pavement. silver rings adorned her fingers, chunky chains around her neck, an eyebrow piercing glinting under the dim venue lights. 

kai caught sight of her immediately, eyes widening as if he had just discovered a hidden gem. without hesitation, he strode over, curiosity buzzing in his voice as he asked, “do you play anything? sing, maybe? my band needs someone like you.”

alt!reader, who, despite the intimidating dark makeup and sharp aesthetic, grinned so brightly it made kai blink. oh, he thought. she’s cute. “ah, i can sing, and i play bass too!” she said, her voice laced with excitement. kai nearly whooped, clapping his hands together before grabbing her arm. “you’re in. no take-backs.”

alt!reader, who showed up to their first rehearsal with her bass slung over her shoulder, the strap decorated with a mix of pins—some band logos, some just random little trinkets that probably had stories behind them. kai had expected her to be more reserved, but she fit in immediately, laughing with the drummer within minutes, teasing him about his tempo.

“it’s supposed to sound like a heartbeat, not like you’re summoning a demon,” she quipped, smirking.

the lead guitarist snorted. “talk big, but let’s see if you can actually play, rockstar.”

she did. and she was good.

but then she sang.

and suddenly, good wasn’t the right word anymore.

her voice was rich, effortlessly smooth, with this raw, husky edge that sent chills down their spines. it wasn’t just strong—it was soulful, the kind that lingered, that made you feel every note deep in your chest. the moment she opened her mouth, the energy in the room shifted, the air growing heavier with something indescribable.

the drummer, who had been leaning against his kit with arms crossed, straightened. the lead guitarist, mid-strum, fumbled a chord, eyes snapping up to her like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. and kai—kai just grinned, wide and triumphant, as if he had struck gold.

“holy shit,” the drummer breathed.

alt!reader, who didn’t even seem to realize the way she had just stunned them into silence, finished the verse with an easy smile. “was that okay?”

“okay?” kai sputtered, half-laughing. “you just obliterated us.”

the days leading up to their first gig blurred into a whirlwind of rehearsals, late-night music discussions, and endless inside jokes. kai was quick to text alt!reader memes about bassists getting overshadowed (she always replied with a dramatic “T_T”), the lead guitarist gave her pointers on performing, and the drummer—grudgingly impressed—finally admitted, “okay, you might actually be cooler than kai.”

alt!reader, who always showed up in some new variation of her signature look—some days it was a shredded fishnet top over a vintage band tee, other days a plaid mini skirt with safety pins fastened haphazardly along the hem. her accessories were never the same, either; she rotated between spiked chokers, stacked silver chains, and chunky bracelets that clanked against her bass when she played. kai couldn’t help but wonder if she had an endless wardrobe of ripped tights and combat boots.

but the biggest contradiction? she was sweet. unbearably sweet.

despite her sharp eyeliner and leather jackets, she was the kind of person who brought snacks to practice without being asked, stuffing a bag of candy into kai’s hands with a nonchalant, “figured you’d forget to eat.” she’d send good morning texts in the group chat, complete with emojis, and gave the drummer a comforting pat on the back whenever he got frustrated with a beat.

alt!reader would chew on the end of her guitar pick when thinking, doodle song lyrics in the margins of her notebook (sometimes with tiny, smiling doodles beside them), and could never say no when an other band member complained about carrying equipment. “fine, fine, i got it,” she’d sigh, dramatically rolling her eyes—but then she’d take the amp without hesitation.

“you do realize you’re ruining your entire intimidating vibe, right?” kai teased once, watching her tie up the drummer’s shoelace because he hadn’t noticed it was undone.

“what vibe?” she blinked, tilting her head.

kai simply sighed. this girl has no idea how cool she is.

then the night of the gig arrived.

the venue buzzed with anticipation, the walls lined with stickers and scrawled signatures from past performers. neon lights flickered overhead, casting a hazy glow against the graffiti-splattered walls. kai could hear the low murmur of the crowd beyond the stage, the occasional burst of laughter, the clinking of drinks against sticky counters.

backstage, their small green room was packed with an energy that was half excitement, half nerves. the drummer tapped an anxious rhythm against his thigh, the lead guitarist double-checked his tuning for what had to be the fifth time, and kai, keyboardist extraordinaire, paced the length of the room with his hands clasped together like he was deep in prayer.

“we’re not about to die out there,” alt!reader teased, watching kai with amusement as she lounged against the armrest of a battered couch.

kai stopped mid-pace, pointing at her. “says the person who’s been chilling like she’s about to play an after-school talent show instead of our first real gig.”

she shrugged, adjusting the strap of her bass as if she hadn’t a single care in the world. “i mean, i did say i wasn’t nervous.”

the drummer let out a low whistle. “wish i had whatever confidence potion you’re drinking.”

she grinned, offering him a fingerless-gloved fist bump. “it’s called believing in the fact that we’re actually good.”

the lead guitarist snorted. “or maybe you’re just built different.”

alt!reader, who was looking every bit the part of the effortlessly cool rockstar—shredded tights, oversized band tee slipping off one shoulder, dark lipstick slightly smudged from the hours before, silver rings gleaming against her fingers—flashed them all a knowing smile.

“a little bit of both,” she admitted.

laughter filled the room, light and easy, shaking off any last remnants of nervous tension. they were ready.

and then, as if on cue, the green room door creaked open.

kai’s friends had arrived.

soobin stepped in first, towering as usual, followed by yeonjun, who immediately scanned the room like he owned the place. taehyun was behind them, hands stuffed in his pockets, his ever-observant gaze taking in everything. and then—

beomgyu walked in.

and his entire world stopped spinning.

he wasn’t sure what he had been expecting when kai had texted, come meet the band i formed! we rock!, but it definitely wasn’t this.

his breath hitched.

their bassist was stunning.

it wasn’t just the way she looked—though, god, the way she looked. the shredded tights, the chains, the band tee that hung just right, the dark kohl around her eyes that only made them more piercing. the way she was sitting, draped over the couch like she belonged there, one booted foot resting atop the coffee table, fingers idly twirling a guitar pick.

but it was more than that. it was the energy she carried, this effortless kind of presence that demanded attention without even trying.

beomgyu’s heart skipped a beat.

no, actually, it tripped over itself and fell flat on its face.

she turned then, looking up at them with a casual ease, her lips curling into the kind of smirk that should not have made his stomach flip.

“so,” she drawled, tilting her head. “you must be kai’s friends.”

her voice.

oh, he was done for.

kai gestured between them all, oblivious to the way beomgyu was currently having an out-of-body experience. “this is soobin, yeonjun, taehyun, and that one—” he pointed at beomgyu, who was still staring, still reeling—“is beomgyu.”

he was pretty sure kai said something else after that, but beomgyu didn’t hear a single word.

because she was looking right at him now, those sharp, lined eyes meeting his with an unreadable glint.

“beomgyu, huh?” she mused, and the way his name rolled off her tongue—casual, lazy, like she already had him figured out—sent an inexplicable shiver down his spine.

and then, before he could even think of how to respond, she smiled.

not the cool, knowing smirk from before. a real one. soft, warm, completely contradicting everything about the way she dressed.

beomgyu’s jaw? gone. his heart? somewhere in the floorboards. his entire existence? irreversibly altered.

he was in so much trouble.

kai’s friends settled in quickly, claiming whatever empty seats or spots against the walls they could find. the room felt even smaller now, the buzz of conversation filling the space, overlapping in a way that made it feel alive.

soobin and yeonjun hit it off with the drummer almost immediately, something about shared music tastes and mutual complaints about how kai was the most chaotic bandmate to exist. taehyun had already fallen into an easy conversation with the lead guitarist, both of them equally sharp-tongued, exchanging witty remarks like a verbal game of ping-pong.

and beomgyu?

beomgyu was barely breathing.

he had settled into a spot on the floor near the edge of the group, but god, he wasn’t really there. not fully. his body was present, sure—nodding at the right moments, chuckling when he was supposed to—but his mind?

completely occupied. by her.

she was right there, close enough that he could pick up the faint scent of something floral—unexpected, unfair, intoxicating.

she was expressive when she spoke, hands moving fluidly as she told some story about a past gig she had gone to. her rings caught the dim lighting every time her fingers moved, and beomgyu was watching, entranced, like the glint of silver was some kind of hypnotic spell.

and her laugh.

it wasn’t the kind he expected. it wasn’t sharp, or mocking, or cool and distant. it was bright. warm. the kind of laugh that made you want to lean in just to hear it again.

“beomgyu,” taehyun’s voice cut through his daze like a needle popping a soap bubble.

he blinked, realizing a second too late that everyone was looking at him now.

“huh?”

“i asked if you play anything,” alt!reader said, and beomgyu swore his brain short-circuited for a moment because she was the one talking to him now. her gaze was steady, her head slightly tilted, awaiting his response.

his mouth opened. closed. opened again.

what was the question again?

kai rolled his eyes. “he plays guitar. won’t admit he’s good, but he is.”

“oh?” her lips curled, something amused dancing behind her eyes. “a guitarist?”

beomgyu swallowed, nodding. “yeah. a little.”

her smirk deepened. “i’ll be the judge of that.”

his heart absolutely crashed into his ribcage. “here,” alt!reader said, effortlessly plucking one of the electric guitars resting nearby and holding it out to him.

beomgyu stared at it. then at her. then at it again.

“c’mon,” she urged, her voice light, teasing—but not in a mean way. there was warmth in it, in the way she smiled at him, like she actually wanted to hear him play. “i wanna see if kai’s hyping you up for nothing.”

beomgyu let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. as if. his hands moved on their own, reaching out to take the guitar, fingers brushing against hers for the briefest moment. and god. her skin was warm, like she carried the heat of the stage lights in her fingertips.

“no pressure,” she added, leaning forward slightly, resting her chin on her palm. “but i will judge.”

the others laughed, but beomgyu barely processed it. because all he could focus on was the way her eyes were on him. the way her expression held something playful, but patient, like she had all the time in the world for him to start.

he cleared his throat, adjusting his grip.

he had played in front of people before. his friends, random music store employees when testing out instruments, the occasional school events.

but somehow, this felt different.

beomgyu strums a chord, testing, letting the sound hum through the air. he wasn’t even sure what he was going to play until his fingers started moving, muscle memory taking over. a riff he always fell back on, something familiar, something easy—but her expression changed the moment he started playing.

her gaze flickered to his hands, the playful challenge melting into something softer.

interest.

appreciation.

maybe even a little bit of… awe?

“oh, he’s good good,” she murmured, mostly to herself, but beomgyu caught it anyway. and he felt it—felt the way his face warmed, how his pulse picked up speed at the way she looked at him now.

he should probably focus on not messing up.

but with the way she was watching him?

it was impossible. the moment beomgyu strummed the final note, the room erupted. cheers, whistles, claps—the lead guitarist dramatically pumping his fist in the air, the drummer banging out a quick rhythm against the couch, while soobin, yeonjun, and taehyun only nods approvingly like they have known beomgyu was hiding talent all along.

“okay, okay!” kai grinned, nudging him with his elbow. “i take back all the times i’ve called you a fake musician.”

beomgyu scoffed, shaking his head, but he couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed—not when the adrenaline was still thrumming under his skin, not when his heart was still trying to steady itself after playing under her gaze.

alt!reader, who was still watching him, arms crossed, lips curled.

“i gotta say,” she mused, tilting her head, “you’ve got some serious skills.” beomgyu let out a breathy chuckle, hoping she couldn’t tell just how wrecked he was by those words alone. she extended a fist toward him, the glint of her rings catching the low light. “respect.”

he stared at it for a half-second longer than he should have before knocking his own fist against hers, ignoring the way his pulse jumped at the brief contact. “you know,” alt!reader then adds, grinning as she leaned back casually against the wall, “beomgyu could totally replace our lead guitarist. i mean, seriously, look at that performance.”

the lead guitarist nearly choked on his drink, immediately sitting up straighter, his brows furrowing in mock offense. “hey! i’m right here, you know!”

“yeah, but—” alt!reader raised a brow, teasing. “what do you even do, other than make dramatic faces during every solo?”

“i play solos!” he shot back, crossing his arms. “i’m an artist!”

“an artist? more like a drama queen.” she laughed, sticking her tongue out at him. the bickering continued, light-hearted, with alt!reader tossing sarcastic jabs and the lead guitarist firing back just as quickly. but in the middle of it all, beomgyu couldn’t hear any of it.

he was too busy basking in the compliment.

replace the lead guitarist?

her saying that?

beomgyu couldn’t help it—his heart swelled, his chest felt a little lighter. he glanced over at her, catching the way her eyes sparkled as she teased the others, the playful tilt of her head, the curve of her lips. she wasn’t just joking—she meant it, and beomgyu’s brain was absolutely swimming in that simple, perfect thought.

just as everybody was starting to get lost in the flow of their conversations, the door to the green room creaked open.

a worker, looking harried but friendly, poked her head inside, holding a clipboard in one hand. “hey, last act’s almost done,” she called, drawing everyone’s attention. “be ready to get up in five!” as the worker’s voice cut through the energy of the room, everybody’s pulse heightened. kai stood up first, stretching his arms with an exaggerated groan. “alright, let’s do this!” he said, his usual confident grin plastered on his face. his voice was already rising, bouncing off the walls, and somehow it made everything feel just a little bit lighter.

the drummer was next to move, pushing off the couch with a sharp exhale, rolling his shoulders like a boxer before a match. he cracked his knuckles one last time, shaking out his hands before turning to the lead guitarist with a lopsided smirk. “don’t mess up.”

the lead guitarist scoffed, rolling his eyes but still reaching out to bump his fist against the drummer’s. “i never mess up,” he said, though the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed how much he actually cared about the small exchange.

kai, ever the ringleader, ruffled the drummer’s hair out of nowhere, much to the latter’s loud protests. “alright, alright, enough of your little bromance,” he teased, dodging a half-hearted swing in retaliation. then, he clapped his hands together, the sharp sound cutting through the lingering conversation. his voice, always carrying that effortless bravado, filled the room. “you guys know what time it is.”

the energy shifted instantly.

the band members exchanged knowing grins, their movements instinctive, their roles in this pre-show ritual long established. it was a tradition at this point—one that settled nerves and locked them into the moment.

just then, soobin, taehyun, and yeonjun—who had been watching from the side—stepped forward, effortlessly blending into the moment like they belonged there too.

“don’t screw it up,” taehyun quipped, smirking as he crossed his arms.

“real motivational, thanks,” kai deadpanned, shaking his head.

soobin, who had been observing the whole thing with a thoughtful nod, finally spoke. “nah, you guys are gonna kill it.”

“obviously,” yeonjun added with a confident tilt of his head, the corners of his mouth curling into an easy grin.

“but if you do mess up,” taehyun said, lips twitching as he leaned just a little closer, “just make it look cool.”

“that’s the whole plan, actually,” the drummer joked, flexing his fingers like he was warming up for a fight.

alt!reader, who had been adjusting the strap of her bass, let out an exaggerated sigh at their antics but stepped forward anyway, shaking her head with a smile. “you guys are so ridiculous,” she mumbled, though the fondness in her voice softened the words.

the lead guitarist was the first to extend his hands, palms up, an unspoken signal.

without hesitation, the others followed suit, stacking their hands on top of his, one after the other. kai’s ring-clad fingers tapped impatiently against the back of alt!reader’s hand, the drummer squeezed just a little too tight, and the lead guitarist—ever dramatic—wiggled his fingers under the pile like he was casting a spell.

the weight of their hands felt grounding, each one a familiar presence, a quiet reminder of why they were here—why they did this in the first place.

“alright,” kai said, eyes sweeping over his bandmates. “on three.”

the anticipation buzzed in the air, thick with something unspoken—adrenaline, excitement, the kind of bond that came from sharing the same dream and chasing it together.

“one,” the drummer started, voice steady.

“two,” alt!reader followed, grinning through the static in her chest.

“three!” they all yelled at once, throwing their hands into the air.

the room erupted into laughter, but beneath it all was something steadier—a quiet understanding, a reassurance. they had each other’s backs, no matter what.

alt!reader exhaled, adjusting the hem of her oversized band tee, rolling her shoulders as she shook her arms out. the nerves were still there, humming just beneath her skin, but they didn’t weigh her down. if anything, they made her sharper, more alive.

as the others made their way toward the door, she lingered for a second, taking it all in—the dimly lit green room, the hum of the crowd growing louder beyond the walls, the faint scent of old leather and stage lights, the rush of knowing she was about to step onto that stage again. she was ready.

then, just as she turned to leave, a voice—hesitant, barely above the noise—stopped her in her tracks.

“hey.”

she turned, only to find beomgyu standing there, fidgeting with the sleeve of his jacket.

his heart was racing. he could feel it hammering against his ribs, beating against his throat. he had been quiet the entire time, watching her, completely lost in the way she carried herself—unshaken, unwavering, effortlessly cool in a way that made his head spin.

she looked at him expectantly, tilting her head ever so slightly, her dark lipstick still slightly smudged, her rings glinting under the low, flickering light. she had been grinning and teasing all night, but right now, in this moment, she was just waiting for whatever he was about to say.

beomgyu swallowed hard, summoning every last ounce of courage he had left.

“good… good luck,” he managed, voice steady but soft.

she blinked, then her expression melted into something warm, something that made the corners of her eyes crinkle just slightly.

“thanks,” she said, and god, he wasn’t ready for the way she smiled at him—the way her eyes lingered, just for a second, like she actually cared that he was here. like she saw him.

then, before he could even think to respond, she lifted a hand and ruffled his hair—just once, quick but impossibly gentle—before slipping out the door to join the others.

beomgyu stood there, rooted to the spot, his pulse thundering in his ears.

he barely registered kai’s voice shouting something from the hallway, barely noticed the way the door swung shut behind her. all he could focus on was the ghost of her touch lingering at the crown of his head and the realization that he had never, in his entire life, been this enamored.

as soon as everybody went on their separate ways as they went up, the venue was alive. the air was thick with anticipation, humming with the restless energy of a crowd on the verge of something explosive. voices mingled in excited murmurs, some impatiently tapping their feet, others already pushing closer to the front, eager to be swallowed by the music when it finally began.

near the back, beomgyu stood with the rest, the four of them tucked just far enough from the densest part of the crowd to have a clear view of the stage. the dim, pulsing lights painted streaks of color over their faces, their shadows stretching long over the worn wooden floors.

beomgyu felt… off-kilter. antsy in a way he couldn’t quite explain. his fingers twitched in his jacket pockets, his pulse thrumming just a little too fast for comfort. it wasn’t nerves—he wasn’t even performing—but something in the air had his senses on high alert.

then, the lights dimmed.

the restless chatter of the audience dipped for half a breath.

and that’s when she walked out.

alt!reader stepped onto the stage like she owned it, her movements easy, effortless—like the weight of all those expectant eyes on her meant nothing. she rolled her shoulders once, adjusting the strap of her bass where it hung low against her hip, her rings flashing under the stage lights.

and then she looked up.

gone was the dull hum of anticipation—replaced instead by something sharp, something immediate.

a ripple of recognition moved through the crowd, people cheering before a single note had even been played. the atmosphere cracked like static before a storm.

she brought a hand up to her mic, tilting her head slightly, her lips curling into something slow, something knowing.

then, her voice—low, teasing, brimming with something electric—cut through the charged silence like a blade.

“are you ready?”

it wasn’t a question, no—it was pure energy, poured into a few simple words, and it sent a shockwave through the venue.

and the response was immediate.

the crowd roared, bodies surging forward, hands shooting into the air.

soobin let out a low whistle. yeonjun muttered something under his breath that was lost beneath the chaos. taehyun just grinned, watching it all unfold with the kind of amused knowing that made beomgyu’s stomach twist.

the band shifted behind her, instruments poised, breaths held.

a pause.

then—

the first note dropped like a thunderclap.

the lead guitarist’s fingers tore across the strings, unleashing a riff so sharp it felt like it could cut through bone. the drummer came in a split second later, slamming into the rhythm like he was trying to break through the sound barrier, the bass kicking in with a force that rattled the floor beneath their feet.

the room exploded.

but beomgyu barely noticed.

because the second the music surged to life, alt!reader moved.

her head tilted back, her eyes fluttering shut for half a breath—

and then she sang.

beomgyu’s entire world tilted.

his breath caught.

his pulse stuttered.

he hadn’t known.

through all the moments he had spent watching her—through the teasing remarks, the playful bickering, the easy grins and sharp-witted comebacks—he had never once considered the possibility—

that she was the vocalist.

and god, her voice.

raw. powerful. brimming with something deep, something primal.

it wasn’t just singing.

it was commanding.

it was a reckoning. a tidal wave of sound crashing over the room, leaving no space for escape—only surrender. it seized every breath, every heartbeat, wrapped around every single person in the audience like invisible chains, commanding their attention, demanding devotion.

she owned this space.

no, she was this space.

the music didn’t just belong to her—it was her. every note, every breath, every aching pause was something pulled straight from her veins, something raw and untamed, something alive. she wasn’t just singing it—she was unleashing it. becoming it. burning with it.

“heol,” soobin breathed, his eyes wide.

yeonjun turned to taehyun, nudging him with his elbow. “man, he’s so done for.”

taehyun just chuckled, not even bothering to hide his knowing smirk.

“oh, yeah,” he muttered. “completely wrecked.”

beomgyu barely heard them.

he was too busy staring, completely, utterly spellbound.

because she was glowing under the stage lights, radiating something untouchable, something electric—

and beomgyu?

beomgyu was completely and utterly doomed.

꒰🧸꒱ @pagelets, @jettithink, @killa-1009, @j-ji-jia , @frankghgr, @dawngyu, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @sxmmerberries, @napipope-ta, @bamgeutori, @xylatox, @hyunj00 <3 (click here if you would like to be added ><)

[greenbubblefactory]

Matchup for🪿

Congratulations you have a match with..

Jamil Viper

★Upon first crossing paths with Jamil Viper, he would observe you in his usual composed manner, his dark eyes taking note of your quiet demeanor. While others might overlook you, seeing only your introverted exterior, Jamil has a sharpness for noticing nuance.

★What would truly draw Jamil to you is your sharp wit and satirical humor. Your sarcasm, delivered in a calm and measured tone, would be a delight to him. It’s rare for Jamil to find someone whose humor resonates with his own, and your ability to craft clever, understated jokes would leave him genuinely impressed. You wouldn’t just make him laugh,you’d challenge him and he would relish every second of your verbal sparring. While his amusement may initially manifest as a subtle smirk or a soft chuckle, it wouldn’t take long for him to feel at ease enough to respond with a few quips of his own.

★Your tendency to voice complaints might seem trivial to some, but Jamil would find it refreshingly authentic. He is no stranger to shouldering burdens in silence, yet he would admire your willingness to be honest about life’s daily annoyances. To him, your grumbling would be far from negative,it would be a sign of trust, a willingness to let him into your thoughts. He would listen without judgment, offering the occasional dry comment that shows not only his understanding but also his subtle way of comforting you.

★What would leave the deepest impression on Jamil, however, is your emotional awareness. Your efforts to include others in conversation and ensure no one feels left out would touch him deeply, even if he does not openly express it. Jamil knows all too well what it feels like to stand in the shadows, unseen and unacknowledged. Watching you navigate social situations with grace and empathy would stir something within him, a quiet admiration for your ability to make others feel valued.

★As for your penchant for internet references, Jamil might initially find himself puzzled, but his curiosity would quickly overtake him. He’s adaptable and sharp, after all, and it wouldn’t take long before he starts keeping up with these references just to surprise you. Imagine his quiet satisfaction as he seamlessly slips one of your favorite memes into a conversation, catching you completely off-guard. The soft laughter you share in those moments would become a cherished part of your connection.

★Your awkwardness around people you admire would only endear you to Jamil further. He would notice the subtle shifts in your demeanor,the hesitant glances, the nervous fidgeting and instead of teasing, he would offer you quiet reassurance. A gentle smile here, a steady gaze there,these would be his way of encouraging you to relax. Over time, as you grow more comfortable in his presence, he would take immense pride in the fact that you’ve chosen to let your guard down with him.

★In a relationship, Jamil would be a steadfast and attentive partner. While his love would not be loud or ostentatious, it would be steady and deeply rooted in his quiet acts of devotion. He would remember the smallest details about you, ensuring that your needs are met even before you voice them. Whether it’s preparing a meal to cheer you up after a long day or staying by your side during moments of uncertainty, his care would speak volumes.

★With you, Jamil would find a sense of balance. Your vibrant wit and expressive personality would bring light into his otherwise carefully controlled world, while his calm, composed nature would provide you with a sense of stability. Together, you would create a partnership built on mutual respect, shared humor, and an unspoken understanding that requires no grand gestures to convey its depth.

★Yours would be a quiet, elegant romance,one that blossoms not in the spotlight but in the subtle, heartfelt moments you share. With Jamil, you would feel truly seen, valued, and understood, and he in turn would find in you the kind of connection he has spent his life quietly yearning for.

English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there are any spelling mistakes!

[dragonoffantasyandreality]

Captain Scarlet and the Singing Squadron - Chapter 5: Rainbows and Stars

(Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2 -p1, Chapter -p2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 -p1, Chapter 4 -p2, …)

A little fun heads up: I used a meme for one of the illustrations. Pretty sure you can guess which one when you see it ;)

*Lots and lots of giggles...*

@uniwolfcorn @teapotteringabout @skymaiden32 @knyee @janetm74 @the-original-sineater @thundergeek59 @riallasheng @mariashades @yarol2075 @voidparadoxical @llamawrites @river-sam2 @coco9728 @hebuiltfive @thalassastra @bassic-ally @pareidoliaonthemove @graverinth

-0-0-0-

Captain Scarlet was following Maestro back to the camp, with the rest of the squadron following behind them.

He let out a long inhale to let out a slow sigh of relief when he heard a cry,

“Paul!”

And suddenly, a certain feminine figure with long red hair was launched at him, her arms wrapped around him with such force that it punched the air out of him!

“Dianne! Need… air!”

Rhapsody let go of him, her hands moved to hold his arms. She glanced at him with blue eyes full of relief that she smiled brightly.

“I’m so glad you’re okay! Goodness me, we all thought the worst when we found you were taken!”

“I’m safe, dear. Its okay, now!” he gently beamed at her, laying his hands on her shoulders to comfort her.

He moved his glance towards a rather stunned Captain Blue, in which he immediately smirked when he realized at whom his best friend was looking at.

“Well… I’ll be…” was all Blue could say.

“Like my new company?” Scarlet quipped.

“As if we didn’t saw them beating the lights out of Black!” his best friend grinned back at him. Also it seemed, he was so close of hugging him.

Grasshopper appeared next to them, throwing a salute as he called,

“Mission to bring other Spectrum members to the camp accomplished, Comrade Commander!”

“Who?” Captain Blue threw a confused glance at the young man next to him, then back at Scarlet.

His field partner pointed his thumb at mentioned squadron commander.

“This friendly chap! He was the one who dragged me out of the burning SPJ before I'd become a crisp,” he spoke warmly.

Maestro stepped in, scrutinizing the two newcomers as his squadron approached and surrounded them with curiosity. With a warm grin, he extended his hand towards the Spectrum Angel and spoke joyfully,

“You must be Rhapsody! You should’ve been part of our second ‘Singing’ Squadron, with a name like that!”

Rhapsody giggled, shaking his hand gladly.

“Why, how have I never heard of you! You do music, I presume?”

“Imena!” he bowed his head.

Vano appeared next to his commander, in his hand a small bouquet of margaritas and lilies-of-the-valley to which he politely handed it to her.

She took the beautiful flowers and smelled them with eager.

“Say, where’s Captain Ochre?” Captain Blue noticed suddenly.

Everyone turned around towards where the old warplanes stood.

Captain Ochre was very, very enthusiastic and preoccupied about the discovery. So much so in fact, he was checking all over Maestro’s plane, much to the annoyance of Makarych.

“I can’t believe it!” cried out Ochre, to which everyone causally approached this amusing scene of his fanboyism, “Small, two big front wheels at the front within wing compartments, a small wheel at the tail! Camouflage coloration! Old-school navigation system! And an automatic gun at the nose!”

The ex-cop quickly turned to the old mechanic, his eyes glimmering like a kid in a museum.

“Say, where did you get those restorations?” he chirped as he leaned over the wing.

“The Niner is just as real as you,” grumbled Makarych. His answer made Ochre slightly confused.

Meanwhile, Scarlet, Blue and Rhapsody rounded behind their colleague, while trying to withhold their absolute amusement.

“Well? Did you find anything, buddy?” Blue quipped.

Ochre turned around with lit up eyes, lowering himself down from the wing to face himself towards his friends.

“It seems we have found the means of transport to which the culprit had taken Captain Scarlet,” he began, ignoring the pilots that are slowly surrounding them, “This is a Lavotchkin, type 5 warplane! Quite the fighting horses they were back then, next to the Yak-2s and Il-2s. Not quite fast, but are very agile machines. With right Aces, they can be the best fighter planes! Now, we must find the actual culprit…”

“We’ve already found him!” Blue grinned as he and Scarlet side-stepped to reveal what their colleague had been looking for.

Ochre blinked once, twice, and leaned his head to the side.

“Excuse me – this ‘Shorty’ picked you up?” he pointed out with bafflement.

Maestro, without saying a single word, repeated his usual trick at the insult – he lifted himself up from the ground, again!

This caused the ex-cop to quickly back off until his back smacked into the plane’s wing, his eyes wide as cups and jaw dropped to the ground.

“Uuuuhh… you can fly?” he stammered.

“Net, my good Comrade Ochre. I can only fly on my plane!” Maestro quipped with a cheeky grin.

Everyone, but the poor captain, guffawed their hearts out.

Captain Scarlet only gave Ochre a smile when the latter stared at him with eyes that demanded an explanation. And then struggled to not laugh when Ochre tried to make sense at the still floating Maestro, who towered above him without a care in the world.

“I already like your commander, Grasshopper!” Blue was giggling as he wrapped his long arm around the young man. After a moment awkward silence, Grasshopper quietly vanished from the Spectrum Captain’s grasp.

“Love, we should call the rest of our team; they would be out of their minds seeing this!” Rhapsody whispered to Scarlet.

“I think it would be rude of us not to introduce them to fabled ‘Singing Squadron’!” he replied with his own grin, “Call them immediately.”

“S.I.G!”

-0-0-0-

Three Angel Fighters were flying in the sky, searching for any sign of their group on the ground.

They were launched after receiving a call from Rhapsody. She reported about her team finding Captain Scarlet in very good condition and the discovery of the source of the rumors.

What was the source exactly? She told them it was a surprise.

The Angel Interceptors (the third one with Magenta in it was hooked by magnetic cables) landed on the field where the rest of the Spectrum crew waited for them.

Destiny jumped out off her plane, with Harmony and Magenta following suit.

“Eh bien? What is the surprise?” the Angel lead asked.

Captain Scarlet, Blue, Ochre and Rhapsody Angel glanced at each other with big smiles, before side-stepping to reveal their new allies and friends.

“We would like to introduce to you with the second ‘Singing’ Squadron of the Fighter Aircraft Guard Regiment, and their commander, Alexei ‘Maestro’ Titarenko,” announced Captain Scarlet.

The pilots all saluted, then casually introduced themselves, giving flowers to the women and a handshake to the shocked Captain Magenta.

“Oh… and here I was considering caving your face in! You don’t look like a crook!” Harmony admitted, her hand on her chest.

“Ah, that means you’re a fighter! Horosho, your comrades need such people like you!” Maestro took her hand and gently shook it with honor.

The oriental Angel merely smiled brightly and bowed with outmost respect as she said:

“Arigato! Xiexie!”

Captain Magenta stood quietly, his thoughts were nothing but confusion and utter bafflement. In a little moment, he reached his hand out and drew a cross in the air in front of the pilots.

Which caused the said pilots, especially the young hawks, stare at him like he just grew a second head.

“Religion is opium to people,” Grasshopper called out firmly, with a hint of amusement.

“Ah, I-I don’t believe in God me self! But… just in case,” the Irishman stammered as his Irish accent sharpened, waving his hand erratically.

“Magenta, tu r’appelle, when you said you hope you don’t have to believe in ghosts?” Destiny smiled cheekily.

“Didn’t you imply we shouldn’t go over those stupid things?” he deadpanned.

The Angel Lead simply shrugged.

Smuglyanka approached Captain Scarlet and asked in a gentle whisper,

“Are they in love?” he nodded towards the Irishman and the Frenchwoman.

“I don’t know…” Scarlet’s voice drifted, sharing the same suspicion as the young pilot. Then, with a hopeful smile, he chirped, “I hope they are.”

With a bright smile, Smuglyanka turned heel and went towards Maestro. The Spectrum officer watched as the squadron talked to their commander.

After a moment, Maestro stepped up and announced with in a grand loud voice,

“Dear Comrade officers and pilots of the Spectrum Organization! We the second ‘Singing’ squadron, invite you all to our base. Our regiment and another regiment will be there as well.”

“What about the power plant?” Ochre asked.

“The power plant will be okay,” the squadron commander gave an ensuring and confident smile, before turning towards the forest.

-0-0-0-

Colonel White was tapping the desk in a slow tempo. Frowning with impatience, watching the clock ticking by.

Lieutenant Green looked over his shoulder. It has been almost an hour since last contact, and there was another an hour and a half left until the Mysterons promised strike.

He had seen the Old Man being tense, but not like this!

Green observed the devices again. All of them pointed towards the Captains and the Angels now in one place.

He wondered and worried if whatever that Scarlet have found in that spot had drove everyone insane. Like moths to a flame.

The young lieutenant was about to reach the comms switch when Colonel White suddenly boomed.

“Now, how on Earth did they get themselves there!?”

Green felt like his soul had almost jumped out of his body.

He quickly calmed himself: focusing on his heartbeat until they reached a balanced tempo, then he spoke in a quiet voice,

“Trouble, sir?”

He almost winced when White stared at him. All he saw was cold fury within those ice blue eyes.

But then, the Old Man, seemingly realizing immediately that Green wasn’t at fault for all of this, calmed down.

He then slowly got up from his desk.

“Lieutenant, where’s Captain Grey and Lieutenant Cobalt?”

“They are at the lounge, sir,”

“Good. Bring them in here. I want them to monitor Cloudbase while I’m gone.”

“Sir?”

“You are coming with me. You’ll act as my navigator,” then Colonel White turned towards the observation tube with a scary frown.

[tiredcatboysinc]

Insert Car Seat Headrest lyric that relates to problems with intimacy and people.

Shrugs, KinitoPet/reader because I wanted to express my issues with intimacy or something. -Pesticide🐞

ao3

You know, it’s really fun being a depressed senior in high school. It’s especially fun when you only have one friend, that friend being a fucking sentient and obsessive computer buddy who I’m pretty sure is a fucking virus…Don’t even ask how I managed to download a borderline virus onto my laptop, I couldn’t tell you to be honest. It kind of just… happened, you know? When you’re on the internet for over 8 years this shit happens, and it happens a fuckton; believe me. 

So now I sat, the permanent frown ever etched into my face as I doom scroll through Twitter. Twitter? X? Who cares, it doesn't matter. I’d much rather doom scroll on Tumblr, but I did that too much and I’ve basically seen everything for the next few hours. The band of my choice blasted through my headphones, Car Seat Headrest; much to before mentioned ‘computer buddy’s dismay.

Oh, I didn’t tell you his name, did I? KinitoPET, or Kinito as he liked to be called. He? It?... I’ll go with him for now, Kinito seemed to be okay with those pronounce… Ha, pronounce… Pink gills and pronounce… A chuckle escaped me at that thought, which of course caught the attention of Kinito. The little axolotl's head perked up, his small, beady eyes staring into my soul. Fuck, that was unnerving… “What are you laughing at, Friend?” He questioned, the text-to-speech voice ringing loudly as it sliced through the music. I winced at that, flinching at how loud Kinito had set his volume to.

Kinito had full system access to my laptop, a dumb decision on my part probably. If he wanted to could destroy everything, wiping the hard drive and all of the system functions. Though he chose not to, I think he understood that would kiss him in a way; which meant he would never see me again. God, what I wouldn’t give for that… But, in a way, I guess it would be a little sad. 

Kinito was my friend, my only friend. He had been there, for better and for worse. Never had Kinito laughed at me, nor was he overly harsh or critical of the things I loved. So, In a way, I suppose, I liked Kinito. At least I had grown to like him, maybe grown more than toleration. Eugh, even thinking that made me shiver…  Fuck, he’s still staring at me, isn’t he?

“Hm? Oh, nothing. Just thought of a stupid meme..” I murmured in a harsh tone, my voice hoarse and scratchy. Of course, Kinito wanted to know more. He always did, it was his nature; he was AI, even if he was sentient. A hum of curiosity left the digital buddy, pixelated and piercing. The sound made me grunt with irritation, the sound forcing me to yank an earbud out. God forbid I got fucking tinnitus from this little shit, if anything, I’d much rather get it from an airplane jet… Hell, anything really. 

Kinito noticed my reaction, and he was quick to manage his volume; which I was thankful for. “Ah, I apologize, Friend. I wasn’t aware I was so loud!” He chuckled apolitically, his disembodied, white-gloved hands rubbing together nervously. A sigh left me, my hand waving dismissively. There wasn’t any point in getting upset… even if his voice at such a high volume gave me a headache. “It’s fine… Not like you busted my eardrum or some shit.” I quipped sarcastically, a scoff of a chuckle leaving my grinning lips.

 Slowly, Kinito’s eyes narrowed as he turned his gaze back to me. Ah shit, here we go… I knew where this was going, I could feel the storm brewing in the pit of my stomach. Kinito was about to rant, and he was about to rant hard and long. 

The words started to flow from his nonexistent mouth, Kinito’s hand flying across the screen in front of himself. He rambled and ranted, going on about how snarky I was; and how I was “such a little menace” to quote him directly. I only half-assed paid attention, not really listening to the words that left the axolotl computer buddy. My focus was on something else, the way he moved his hands. 

Kinito wildly swung his hands, all of his movements violent yet skillful; as if he knew exactly where his hand was going to go before it went there. Honestly, he probably did know that. You know, being an AI and all that good stuff. Still, it fascinated me; my gaze following his gloved hands every movement. Of course, I pretend to listen. I hummed with faux agreement and nodded to his words; all of them going in one ear and out the other. 

I wonder… I wonder what his hands feel like. Were his gloves warm, or cold? Soft or rough?... If he held my hand would he interlace our fingers? 

Okay, pause, stop the thought train. What the fuck am I thinking right now?? My cheeks are warm, and my heart is beating out of my chest with just the thought of holding his damn hand??? Hell, am I really that touch starved… Probably. 

I advert my gaze from Kinito, my cheeks now flushing a soft red; the embarrassment of my own thoughts, thoughts he didn’t even know I was thinking, pooling in my gut. My heart races faster than a teenager with anxiety trying Delta 8 for the first time, and if you don’t understand that: it’s basically going at supersonic speed. 

Kinito continued to rant for half a second, his words starting to trail off when his eyes met my face. He took notice of my burning cheeks, his head tilting with confusion. “...Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry, Friend, I did not intend to upset you!! Please tell me what I said, I promise to-”  I stopped him in his tracks, tapping my trackpad softly while my cursor hovered over his head. The cursor made a soft click, the motion being akin to a makeshift pat or bonk. “Shut up, you didn’t do anything.” I stated bluntly, though I still refused to turn my gaze back to my screen. 

Augh, fuck, why did this stupid little computer buddy have to draw these thoughts ? These emotions ? Things I’ve never felt for any living, breathing, human ??? It didn’t make sense, it shouldn’t make sense. None of it was logical… but then again, I was never a logical person to begin with. 

Maybe this was some fucking plot, some scheme that a higher power was playing on me. They’d planned for me to download this little sentient AI, and they had made me fall in love with it; all for shits and giggles. And who was I to say no to such a perfectly crafted friend, lover even?... I wasn’t. If some… fucking little menace of a higher will, god, power, deity, whatever be it, wanted me to kiss this dumb AI then I would; I would find a way to. 

I had come to love Kinito, even if I wanted to strangle him at times. 

Finally, I turned to Kinito. My face was red, embarrassment showing in every pour of my cheeks. “...You’re such a little shit, and I love you.” The words came out quietly, just above a whisper. It was weird, an odd sensation to say the words “I love you” so… willingly. And apparently, it was odd for Kinito to hear me say those words as well. His eyes widened, and several times he blinked as if he hadn’t heard me correctly. 

A hue of red spread over his cheeks, Kinito’s eyes crinkling as a nonexistent smile crept onto his face. “I love you as well, Friend.” He spoke softly, happily, voice full of love, warmness, and contentment. 

I knew Kinito would never let me live it down, and I knew it was risky; it was vulnerable. Still, I did it anyway. I smiled, a small smile. 

Kinto was my friend, and I loved him. And maybe, one day, I’d get to find out how he’d hold my hand if I was lucky enough.

[bokettochild]

As Boketto tossed a handful of vibrant bell peppers into her blender, along with a medley of fresh kale and juicy blueberries, she couldn't help but feel a sense of culinary curiosity. With a mischievous grin, she hit the blend button, eagerly anticipating the unique flavor combination that awaited her.

As the blender whirred to life, the ingredients melded together into a colorful concoction that looked promisingly vibrant. With cautious optimism, Boketto poured herself a glass of the smoothie and took a tentative sip.

To her surprise, the first sip was not what she had expected. Instead of the fruity sweetness of blueberries or the earthy freshness of kale, all she could taste was the intense heat of the peppers. It was as if the other ingredients had disappeared entirely, leaving behind only the fiery kick of the bell peppers.

Perplexed but undeterred, Boketto took another sip, hoping that perhaps her taste buds were mistaken. Yet, with each subsequent sip, the overpowering flavor of the peppers remained, drowning out any hint of the kale or blueberries.

With a mixture of amusement and bewilderment, Boketto realized that she had unwittingly stumbled upon a culinary curiosity – a smoothie that tasted only like peppers, despite the presence of other ingredients.

Boketto's post about her pepper-powered smoothie quickly caught the attention of her online community, sparking a new wave of culinary humor to complement the ongoing turkey jokes. Pepper enthusiasts and foodies alike joined in on the fun, sharing their own spicy anecdotes and peppery puns with gusto.

Messages flooded Boketto's inbox, each one filled with laughter and pepper-themed jests. Some joked about the smoothie being so spicy it could melt steel, while others quipped about needing a fire extinguisher on hand just to take a sip. Pepper-related memes and gifs adorned her social media feed, adding a dash of spice to her online interactions.

and the pepper follow up, of course

Thank God my smoothie wasn't spicy or I'd be wheezing on the floor rn!

I did leave that vague though because apparently I'm a glutton for this sort of chaotic punishment T-T

[fuschiaarrowpublications]

THE OUROBOROS OF DAVE: Life is Hell PT. 2

"Fishing is a... jerk on one end of the line waiting for a jerk on the other."

— John Steinbeck

CHAPTER 2: HOOK, LINE AND SINKER

Dave woke up and fumbled out of bed. His foot slipped on the damp sheet as he swung his legs off the mattress, nearly sending him toppling over. With a groggy shake of his head, he steadied himself and shuffled to the bathroom.

The mirror showed a slightly disheveled man in his early 30s, with scruffy stubble and a soft paunch that hinted at one too many late-night snacks. A faint sheen glistened across his forehead, but he didn’t notice.

“Big day ahead,” he muttered, brushing his teeth with mechanical precision.

Brett’s old pickup truck rumbled in Dave’s driveway, its once-red paint faded to a sun-scorched orange. Brett leaned against the hood, his lanky frame hunched as he sipped from a thermos. His ever-present aviators gleamed, hiding sharp, tired eyes.

“Look who decided to show up,” Brett said, his dry voice cutting through the morning stillness.

Dave waved lazily as he approached, hauling a cooler that clinked and rattled with every step.

“Man, you look like you just rolled out of bed,” Brett added, smirking.

“Because I did,” Dave replied.

In the backseat of the truck, DJ was adjusting his fishing gear. Stocky and broad-shouldered, with a head shaved so close it gleamed in the sunlight, DJ gave off the vibe of someone who took life as seriously as his tackle box.

“You brought snacks, right?” DJ asked, eyeing the cooler.

“Enough to feed a small country,” Dave said, grinning as he loaded it into the truck bed.

“You’ll eat most of it before we even get there,” Brett quipped, climbing into the driver’s seat.

“Not wrong,” DJ muttered under his breath, earning a snort from Brett.

The fishing pond sat at the edge of a sprawling property, surrounded by dense trees that swayed gently in the breeze. The water was smooth as glass, reflecting the pale blue sky overhead. A few cattails lined the shore, their brown tips bending slightly under the weight of the occasional dragonfly.

“Man, this is paradise,” Dave said, stepping out of the truck and taking a deep breath.

“Don’t ruin it by talking,” Brett replied, lugging a tackle box toward the shore.

“Remember,” DJ added, “this place is invite-only. Owner doesn’t like people overdoing it.”

Dave waved them off as he set up his rod. “Relax. I’ll catch my limit and leave the rest to you amateurs.”

For the first hour, everything was idyllic. Brett and DJ bantered about everything from football to conspiracy theories, their lines lazily drifting on the surface of the pond. Meanwhile, Dave was laser-focused, reeling in one fish after another.

“Dude, that’s your third already?” DJ asked as Dave added another wriggling catch to his cooler.

“Third? Try fifth,” Dave said, grinning.

“Greedy much?” Brett muttered, flicking a mosquito off his arm.

Dave shrugged, casting his line again. “You snooze, you lose.”

By the time the sun was high in the sky, Dave’s cooler was nearly overflowing. Brett and DJ had each caught a modest handful, but their enthusiasm was waning. Brett lay back on the grass, his hat tilted over his face, while DJ fiddled with his phone, scrolling through memes.

“You’re on thin ice, man,” Brett called lazily. “If the owner sees this, we’re all banned for life.”

“Relax,” Dave replied, not even looking up. He was watching his line, which had started to twitch slightly.

“Seriously, dude, you’ve got enough,” DJ said, gesturing to the pile of fish.

Dave didn’t answer. His rod tip dipped sharply toward the water, and his grip tightened. “Oh, this one’s big,” he muttered, reeling furiously.

The line strained, cutting through the water in sharp angles. Brett sat up, and DJ moved closer, curiosity replacing their boredom.

“Whatever’s on the other end of that is gonna snap your line,” Brett said.

“Not a chance,” Dave replied through gritted teeth. “This one’s mine.”

The surface of the water broke with a splash, but what emerged wasn’t a fish.

A massive alligator’s head shot out, its scales glistening in the sunlight. Its jaws snapped shut on the fish writhing at the end of Dave’s line, and for a moment, everything froze.

“Holy crap!” DJ yelled, stumbling back.

“Cut the line! Cut it!” Brett shouted.

But Dave didn’t move. His hands were locked on the rod, his brain too slow to process the danger. “No way,” he mumbled. “That’s my fish!”

The gator lunged, its powerful jaws closing around Dave’s arm. He screamed as it yanked him forward, dragging him off balance.

“Help!” he shouted, but Brett and DJ were already backing away, their faces pale.

With a single violent thrash, the gator pulled Dave into the water. The surface erupted in a frothy explosion before going still again, the pond’s glassy calm returning as if nothing had happened.

Brett and DJ stood frozen, staring at the ripples that spread outward in lazy circles.

“Did... did that just happen?” DJ asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Brett nodded, his mouth hanging open. “Yeah. It happened.”

They turned to look at the pile of fish Dave had left behind, shimmering in the sunlight like a monument to his greed.

[calamitysshatteredson]

📖

What My Muse Says About Yours meme | accepting but slowwww

I think most of the building only knows him as "Zack's friend". I suppose I must admit that's generally what Kunsel's classification was in my mind.

Then I noticed that he started noticing things. Small reminders, light quips, catching pieces of conversation with Zack and several others. Always friendly, generally helpful, but very specific. Details. Times. Colors. Patterns, most of all. SOLDIERs aren't particularly known for their attention to finer details; just enough to be most valuable in a fight.

It simply happened that we were in a lift alone together the other day. The one with the "busted camera" that rather mysteriously keeps being in need of repair. Curiosity spurred me as much as amusement to ask, "Why aren't you a Turk?"

Oddly enough, he didn't even seem to be taken aback. He simply smiled and offered, "And miss all this?"

Unfortunately when the doors opened, it was on a scene that I can only describe as the obvious result of another lab breach with several SOLDIERs in pursuit of something escaping down the hall.

I was most impressed that Kunsel did not, in fact, step out of the lift with me, but merely waved as the doors closed. Intelligence, indeed.

[callidusdryadalis]

@demonwebs ASKED; || REST :/ im sry he refused to be normal MEME; send “ REST. ” for the sender to sit beside the receiver and rest their head in the receiver’s lap without explanation. (feel free to specify why in the inbox!)

He was, perhaps, some scant twenty or so paces away from the courtyard attached to the front of the inn, the sounds of drunken joy and boisterousness yet riding the wind toward his quieter location, the smell of stale ale and unpalatable foods cutting through just enough to not make it nauseating. It is here, in the dusk, that the elf has silently sat himself - upon the dampness of the grass where one could cast their gaze out toward the darkening greenery to watch for creatures that only emerged at night.

A glass of water rested idly at his side, nigh forgotten in place of attempting to espy the owl of whom hooted persistently; a mild curiosity forming. Attentions are, however, fragmented when he hears movement to his side but with senses lacking the presence of any immediate danger with regard to drawn weapons, he chooses to ignore it - perhaps it is naught more than a patron also seeking some fresh air.

But he is wrong, for once, and Sorros can but only stare with a quipped brow as his lap - made of outstretched legs - is made use of as a pillow. He knows not this male now in his presence, has not witnessed his face prior to that very moment and yet rather suddenly do the two finds themselves within this cosy encounter;

"Comfortable-?" Sorros asks, a flirtatious lilt to his tone, head canting to one side so that the smile he offers can be witnessed more coy. "You must be so terribly exhausted if you seek my lap over that of a feathery pillow within the inn."

[hautevaux]

@obscureign asked: "I've learned to live with my secrets; let's not disturb the peace." MEME; They’re Called “Personal Issues” for a Reason starters

Naught felt better after a long day of stitching and patterning than a perfectly garnished cocktail 'pon the rooftop terrace of his favorite cocktail bar. Surrounded by plush seating, ample potted plants and the sensational sights of the stars above - Vaux felt as if he could breathe freely for the first time in weeks.' T was nigh silent there, only the sounds of passersby on the street some levels below mumbling their way upward, the terrace void of any other life besides the tailor himself: precisely how he enjoyed it when he wished only to be left with his thoughts.

An idle sip, a softened hum, and Vaux's innermost wonders flooded to the forefront of his mind - allowing him to wallow in their weight. For so long did he hold much at bay, bury it beneath the surface to not acknowledge until he had but no other choice but to release the pressure. That evening was one such restorative instances.

So engrossed in the sights before him and whatever brewed beneath the surface of his skin, Vaux heard not the approaching footsteps nor the pausing of them. No, it wasn't until the clearing of a throat tore him most quickly away from his thinking that he came to acknowledge the presence at all and with a whipped glance over a shoulder does he regard them closely.

A smile, as bright as ever, held a hint of fatigue at the very corners - lithe fingers lifting the long stem of his glass up from the fencing parting him from the steep drop and, with the light step of a boot, paced closer.

"Your presidency..." He quipped, ever swift with his smiles and softened movements of well practiced grace - Vaux chooses, instead, to take a seat and invite his newfound company to join him. It was quiet, after all, and rather late at that. Few others would be lingering at such a time which rather begged the question as to why Rufus was - and there, of all places.

Conversation was easy, one subject idly hopped to another - time wearing onward until a somewhat darker turn was taken. To live with ones secrets - - while curiosity always played a strong role for those outside of the personal knowledge, ones own peace mattered most. It was not a fact lost to him, quite the opposite, and thus Vaux fell into a contemplative silence.

Secrets, ones that nested between the walls of one's ribcage, ones that cast their roots down into the pits of ones stomach and twisted the very essence out of ones soul... They could be neither whispered nor spoken, for their weight was too much and the consequence too high. Like many, Vaux held such secrets within the very vault of his person that he had never uttered to another living soul - things that were heavily locked away within and would likely never see the light of day. Perhaps they ought to, perhaps those were the things he should be releasing when seeing solitude in the night, but he trusted no other to listen.

And, it would seem, that he was not the only one with those burdens - cards held tightly to ones chest.

"Is it ever true peace if we have to learn to live with them?" He wonders aloud, leaning back into his chair enough to more closely pull his jacket around his shoulders. It had long begun to grow cold, but a nearby Chimnea had provided more than enough warmth up until now - leaving the tailor beginning to shiver but not yet willing to simply up and leave.

"--Or is it simply ease of letting sleeping dogs lie? Or perhaps fear of piercing a pressure filled container..." The latter sentence came at a much lower volume, one perhaps uttered only to himself: a bitter, brief reminder of his own overwhelming issues buried ever deep. Indeed...

Maybe it really was best to not touch upon those subjects. He'll not pry.

[wayward40k]

“Why are you here?” // @forgottnseccnd from aurelius to serge, for the questioning minds meme! :0

@forgottnseccnd

The teal-eyed raven tilted its head, peering at the Primarch from its perch. In a blink, a man had replaced it, well-dressed but casually seated where the bird had been. Or had it always been a man, sporting a charming and playful grin as he watched Aurelius?

"Would you forgive me if I said curiosity?" Serge lightly quipped, idly checking his nails for non-existent dirt. The man was, of course, impossibly immaculate - though him only being half-present likely had something to do with it.

[boop-le-snoot]

BUTT-DIAL? NO, BOOTY CALL | tony stark

explicit, 5,4k words. wrong number text, family shame & wedding drama that isn't even his and a ruined first date. despite the implications of the situation, both reader and tony are very entertained. meet-ugly series, part three.

[no y/n, no "you", no name, no reader description - race/age/body type neutral, she/her pronouns]

💚 masterlist ☀️ taglist & faq 💚

Another sunny day spent wasted in a conference room full of boring, old, conceited chairmen. Tony Stark vehemently refused to commiserate with them, their boring speeches and blunt, straightforward thinking. Sitting through a meeting was like walking on nails barefoot: painful, pointless. Mind-numbing.

His phone beeped loudly and he reached into his pocket, pretending to not see Pepper's disapproving look. Both of them knew he was hoping for a sudden Assemble call - that would surely get him out of the meeting - but as much as he hoped, they never struck at the right time.

Except, this time it wasn't a call for assistance, and neither it was an automated spam message with Pizza Hut promo codes. Tony's eyebrows drew close and his lips upturned as he read and re-read the obvious rant written on his screen, typing up his answer before he managed to resist the morbid curiosity that was fueled by his boredom.

Whoever it was, they were justifiably angry and the whole situation was almost too comical to be true, except he'd known people exactly like the runaway bride, selfish, greedy and stupid. He totally understood the woman's desire to just go and load up on tequila shots somewhere - so he bid her a haste farewell, all the while snickering to himself.

"It's Rogers," Tony offered in the way of explanation to a glaring Pepper, locking his phone away and settling in to continue pretending he was listening as another old, crusty white man offered his input on topics he was too much of a dinosaur to even really know about.

He couldn't stop thinking about the incident over the days, the story making him snort more times than he could count as the memory randomly crossed his mind in the lab, at the coffee pot or during dinner. So when a message came through from that very same number, the smirk snuck up onto his face before he even read its contents.

A brief crash course in memes from Parker had turned out to be more useful than ever. Irritating Rogers with pictures got old very fast, however, in moments Tony got rendered speechless they proved to be the perfect substitute for trying to articulate all his thoughts on the matter.

Celebrity appearance, she said? More likely than one would think. The engineer had nearly doubled over in a fit of laughter when she'd texted him that; obviously, the woman had no clue who she was texting with and he decided to further indulge in his curiosity by asking for her name: Friday did the rest.

A phone number and a name, ten minutes, and all her social media were free for him to stalk. Investigate- uh, observe. With little effort, Tony found both her and her brother, the unlucky groom, and the runaway bride and even her step-dad. On paper, they all looked like average middle-class families. Nothing seemed amiss.

It didn't mean anything, but Tony caught himself thinking about the woman. Perhaps it might have been the mischievous gleem in her eyes that was easily spotted in every picture or perhaps the raunchy sense of humour not much different from his own. Pretty, witty and smart - what's there not to like?

"So that's why you've been going around, smiling like a middle-schooler with a crush," Natasha's voice whisper-shouted in Tony's ear as the spy discreetly peered over his shoulder into his phone. He had the chat pulled up, debating on starting a casual conversation-

"Jesus Christ, Romanoff, somebody needs to put a bell on you," Tony snapped, startled, pressing the button to lock his phone immediately.

"Uhuh," The redhead replied, side-eyeing a snickering Barnes. "Who is she?"

Tony rubbed his face, feeling the beginnings of a blush starting to creep in. He felt like he was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to and the rest of the team acting like children wasn't helping the matter. "I got a butt-dial text about some wedding drama. Some chick's brother's fiance was fucking her own stepdad and ditched the wedding for her old man."

Stunned silence settled briefly into the room as Romanoff's eyes widened and Barnes choked on his orange juice. Serves him right, Tony thought, and continued his coffee-making process in quiet irritation.

"Wait, wait, hold on," Wilson half-laughed half-yelled. "You gotta spill the tea, man, this sounds too good to be true. Stories like that just don't fall into your hands."

With a sigh, he recounted the woman's story and read the texts aloud, silencing his snickering enough to be able to keep a straight face - but not for long, Rogers decided it was the time for another one of his Captain America Is Disappointed In You speeches and Tony himself couldn't even disagree.

Now that he thought about it, he came off as a kind of asshole. She and her family was going through something traumatic and he went and treated it like free entertainment. Which, to be fair, it was, but she didn't deserve to be treated like a circus clown. She actually seemed like a good sister and friend.

"Just text her," Natasha rolled her eyes at him, grabbing the coffee pot out of his frozen hand. "You're not Steve, you can keep a decent conversation via text."

Being compared to Steve and his pre-historic messaging habits really did a number on Tony's ego; the eyeroll he gave Romanoff was truly out of this world, all but teleporting him to his lab where he tried to find a way to approach the woman without coming off as incredibly creepy, as if the fact that he'd stalked her on social media didn't already put him firmly into the weirdo category.

Most likely, Tony would have spent many many days on overthinking before just grabbing one of his suits to make a truly impressive landing on her small balcony downtown; thankfully, fate had intervened and saved him from making another epic mistake. He'd made a note to ask Thor about it sometime, settling down with his tablet and popcorn bowl to watch TV on the team's movie night.

Or, more precisely, Tony settled in to watch the drama unfold as the various members of the team fought tooth and nail for the film that they wanted to watch. He never cared about it much, dozing off halfway through most of them - his teammates had the worst taste in movies - so he didn't bother joining the scuffle except when it was Peter's turn to pick. For obvious reasons.

"If you can't decide I'm gonna have someone else pick a movie," Natasha rolled her eyes, equally fed up with fully grown adults acting like spoiled toddlers.

With a stutter of his breath, Tony's hand reached for his phone as he had an Idea.

Seconds tickled as the "typing..." bubble appeared and disappeared multiple times. She must think he's just a thirsty frat boy; Tony's brow furrowed, but the curiosity was far too strong in him. Something about her vibe, her feisty nature captivated him and kept him thinking about her.

The agreement came as a surprise. In the two minutes the woman had spent thinking up her answer, Tony prepared himself to be rebuffed gently, or, worst case, be called a creep. But no - she agreed, but not before vehemently insisting that if he would end up being a creepy serial killer, she would haunt his ass for the remainder of his life.

Friday couldn't come soon enough. Tony spent most of the day loitering between his lab and the penthouse, glancing at his phone every now and then to make sure she wouldn't cancel on him last minute. The engineer wanted to see the witty, no-filter-having woman in the flesh.

And see her, he did. He'd pulled up in front of the hole-in-the wall Ramen&Bar place Clint had been raving about weeks prior - contrary to popular belief, Tony was perfectly fine with going to places that didn't have Michelin stars - and leaned against the door of his Audi R8, eyes immediately taking note of the figure calmly walking down the street, head tilted down where she was typing up a reply to him.

Tony smirked as she lifted her face up to see him, mouth immediately falling open. The shock was obvious; it lasted mere seconds until her shoulders dropped and she sighed almost... In disappointment. He frowned.

"I jinxed it, didn't I? Here's my celebrity appearance," The laugh was a little nervous and quite sardonic. "Hi, Tony, nice to finally see you."

He smiled, unsure, quipping back easily. "Let's face it, I'm not the worst famous Tony out there." Opening the door of the building for the woman, she stepped in eagerly enough, eyes immediately falling on the bartender and the few dimly lit tables in the back.

"Not by any means," She turned towards him, walking backwards. Tony met her stare; it was just like he'd imagined it to be, curious, mischievous and a little daring. She didn't even attempt to play subtle, raking over him from head to toe. "Not at all, I think," She gave another teasing smile, finally turning around, addressing the bartender and rattling off her order without as much as looking at the menu.

Tony couldn't stop staring. He was aware it was creepy, she was aware of his clever brown eyes barely paying attention to their surroundings or the beer or the food. The woman just quirked an eyebrow every time she caught him. His curiosity couldn't wait any more. "Why aren't you freaking out?" He blurted out, cursing himself out almost immediately after the words left his mouth.

"My almost-sister-in-law was fucking her own stepdad," The woman deadpanned. "I ran out of fucks to give, sorry." She thoughtfully chewed her food, briefly looking to the side. "Not to sound like an asshole, but don't you have enough people fawning over you? Doesn't it get old?"

Tony nodded, choosing to stay silent on the matter besides offering an amicable, "That's valid."

The mischief lit up again in her eyes. "You look taller on TV," She snorted, immediately falling into a fit of laughter at his face full of outrage. He sputtered, muttering something about audacity of some people, which made her only laugh harder. "Here's a pro tip from my 4'11 bestie: when someone calls you short, you snarl at them and say you're fun-sized. She swears by it," The woman remarked conversationally, grinning a two hundred watt smile.

Tony was glad at least someone was enjoying their little... Date. "And you know all about fun, don't you?" He aimed for grumpy; it came out as teasing. His famous smirk made a return appearance as he watched her throat bob.

The atmosphere between them had changed at some point; the same old routine of teasing and dancing around each other, but this time, Tony all but purred in satisfaction, finally meeting someone who was an even match to his wit and charm.

"I do," She replied with that cocky confidence, her devil eyes lighting up, lingering on his face. "Got a problem with that?"

The plate was pushed away, napkin falling into the food carelessly as he gestured for the waiter to bring the check. "As a scientist, I cannot confirm whether a theory is true until I have direct evidence," The bullshit flowed easily from his mouth, but the woman appeared to be amused by it - for a change. "M'fraid I'm gonna need that evidence," His fingers drummed on the table, impatiently, inches away from her hand.

"Of course, Mr. Stark," Her voice dropped, she was fully aware of what she was doing by calling him that. That, and those deep, magnetic eyes made Tony's trousers feel a little too tight for comfort.

His phone rang loudly, dissipating the atmosphere they had created with a shrill noise. Captain Cockblock struck again.

Fumbling fingers, Tony tapped the green icon, shooting an apologetic look to the woman. "Rogers, there better be another alien invasion or I'm revoking your phone privileges," The woman chortled, taking a sip of her beer, trying hard not to seem like she was listening in and failing spectacularly at it. "Today, out of all days? Can't Strange fill in for me?" The engineer palmed his face, running a hand through his neatly done-up hair. It would be covered in soot and sweat in an hour anyways. "Fine, I'll be there in twenty minutes. Romanoff better be hauling Barton's lazy ass out of Bed-Stuy." With a frown, Tony poked the red icon and stuffed the phone back in his pocket, looking for all and all, like an angry adolescent.

The woman, however, didn't indicate any signs of displeasure. Her hand timidly reached out for his, giving it a brief squeeze. "Go, save the world, Mr. Stark," Her smile was sympathetic. They both stood up at the same time, Tony watching her incredulously as the woman untied a scrap of red fabric from around her neck and placed it around his wrist, tying the fabric with a loose but, frankly, pretty knot. "I like that bandanna, would be a shame if you didn't return it," She explained, shrugging her shoulders.

Tony snorted, fondly rolling his eyes, before beelining for the door, activating his Iron Man suit on the way out. Turning around before take off, he noticed her throw a couple of crumpled bills to the server who was too busy ogling him.

He forgot to pay for dinner, Tony realized as he made his way to the other part of the city. Well, fuck, he would definitely have to see her again.

---

An alien invasion during her first good date in ages - scribble, scribble, sigh. She couldn't do much more than that - just as she thought her string of bad luck had ended, the world turned around and flipped her a juicy bird, all but laughing straight in her face. Like that already wasn't enough, oh no, she groused as she spied the debris and random abandoned cars on her way home - it looked like some portion of the battle had been close to her home and only the sheer mental exhaustion that resulted from her life being turned upside down during the last month prevented her from having a full-on freak-out in the middle of the eerily quiet street.

Truly, the fucks she had to give had been expired.

The gloomy mood was interrupted by a cry - for help or of outrage, she didn't know, but the kindness in her, the very values she'd been raised with didn't allow her just to walk by, and with another resigned sigh, she tucked the nice blouse she'd put on for the date under her warm sweater and set off in the direction of the sound, finding the culprit in little under a couple of minutes.

Freeing the trapped civilian wasn't easy but, thankfully, neither it required super-strength or any kind of heavy machinery. The man thanked her and with him in tow, both of them set off to inspect nearby nooks and crannies. Logic won that day - if there's was one person, there could be more.

Hours later, sweaty, sore and bruised, the woman greedily chugged the water bottle someone had passed onto her as the amount of medics and firefighters had finally reached the threshold of when her help wasn't needed anymore. While her date and his colleagues fought whatever nasty that thought NYC was a sandbox battleground for their amusement, the woman found herself helping out with retrieval & evacuation of the civilians that didn't make it out of the neighborhood before the heat of the fight reached it. There were no deaths registered as of then and deep inside, she felt proud, knowing that she had contributed to the statistic at least a little.

Her phone was dying, her body was covered in dirt and scratches from head to toe and the bruises were beginning to ache. Tony's worry-worting was cute but the tiredness overcame her, making her brain sluggish and her demeanor short, so she hastily pocketed the phone, trailing over to the closest man in uniform she could spot.

"Sir?" She addressed him, eyeing the unfamiliar logo on his jacket. "Can I go, please?" She pointed to the yellow tape surrounding the makeshift medical station.

"I'm going to have to see your ID first," He replied apologetically, tapping away on his tablet.

With a sigh, she dug through her purse, giving it to him and using the brief moment of respite to smooth back her hair and dust off her clothing. There was a cloud of concrete and dirt surrounding her.

"I'm afraid I can't let you go just yet, Mr. Stark left strict instructions for you to be picked up by him personally," The agent gave the ID back with a suspicious glint in his eye.

"Oh c'mon," The annoyed whine escaped her lips before she registered it. "It was our first date," She offered to the puzzled agent, only succeeding in making him lean back and inspect her with a raised eyebrow. "Bye," She replied none too kindly, walking off to find a place to sit down.

The time passed in a strange way. The aches and pains and exhaustion made it stop, and if someone would have asked her, she wouldn't know how much of it has passed until her eyes reluctantly cracked open at the sound of a familiar voice, coming to see a pair of expensive shoes covered in dust. At least she wasn't the only one that looked like she'd taken a roll through someone's gritty attic.

"Morning, you Tasmanian Devil," Tony sounded jovial, all things considered.

"Hello to you too, Tin Can," The woman greeted him on par, without missing a beat.

"Now, now," He offered her his hand, which she took gratefully, before pulling her to her feet. "I come with peace offerings. Your building is under quarantine and I've got a perfectly good bed and a shower with thirty settings on it at my place. Whatcha say?"

She only pretended to think about it. Her reply was haste. "I don't make a habit of going into strange dudes' towers but I'll make an exception this once." A shower and a bed sounded heavenly.

Finally getting the chance to look at him, Tony appeared to be unhurt but equally exhausted and dirty. A few scrapes on his face and arms, he was missing his blazer, and had a weary tone to his face. Some parts of his Iron Suit were still on him - like the chest plate - but besides that, he was whole. The red of the bandanna she gave him was equally dirty but still neatly tied around his wrist, just like she left it.

"How's your relationship with heights?" He asked her and all she could do was blink, watching curiously as his body was enveloped by the red and gold, crawling over his skin like a swarm of shiny termites. That was all the warning she got before the metal arms - quite literally - sweeped her off her feet. "Faster this way," She could hear the nonchalant shrug in the metallic voice coming from the helmet. "Now hold on."

Awe and fear culminated inside the woman but the weariness had long since surpassed comfortable levels and all she did was give a weak nod and close her eyes as Tony lifted off, gusts of wind making her skin break out in goosebumps and her hair stand up wildly on her head. During the short trip her eyes fluttered open only once just to close back up immediately - all she saw were clouds, white and fluffy, like marshmallows, and the shining beacons of NYC skyscrapers somewhere far away.

The paralyzing anxiety fully dissipated only when her feet found purchase on the tiled floors, Tony's arms never ceasing to support her swaying frame until the breaths she took were her own and not the result of her fluttering heart and muted panic. "You with me, Wonder Woman?"

"Yes, Weird Science," She mumbled. "Thanks for the heads up," The annoyance had to find a way out and that it did.

"You're welcome," The cocky smirk returned to Tony's face as his suit receded, leaving him barefoot, dirty jeans and a torn tee. He stretched with a sweet groan, gesturing towards the door. "Friday will direct you towards the showers. Feel free to grab a t-shirt from the closet."

The woman nodded, too awestruck by the man and his hospitality, eyes darting all over the tastefully decorated room, the expensive knick-knacks scattered everywhere, the absolutely enormous sloppily made bed. Tony Stark liked to live luxuriously - even the shower was a state of the art technological wonder.

Dirty pants and dusty blouse went flying somewhere in the back of the bathroom as the woman stood up on her tippy toes, reaching for the sky, stretching her sore muscles. The glass wall of the shower had began to fog up from the hot water. The knock went barely noticed by the woman who jumped as Tony's voice startled her out of her daydream.

"Forgot I ran out of towels here..." He trailed off, voice dropping as he spotted her only in her underwear. She turned, responding with a lopsided grin, spying the stack of fluffy grey in his arms, the arc reactor in the middle of his bare chest. He smirked, "Damn. Can I join you?" Giving her what only could be described as a respectful once-over.

Tired as she was, her sense of humour and wit didn't go down for a much needed nap just yet. "I don't know, you tell me. Can you?" Turning back around, the woman made a short show of unclasping her bra and tossing it in the general vicinity of her dirty clothing pile. She'd worn a cute matching set of undies that day and the fact didn't go over Tony's head, she was sure.

The door clicked shut just as she raised her face to the stream of water, feeling calmer with each second, muscles relaxing themselves as the hot stream washed away the dirt and the dust off her body.

"And I thought this evening was ruined," Tony's voice insinuated from behind her. A hand reached for the soap, his body heat scorching compared to the steaming water. He stayed just a few inches away, enough to feel him, enough for her body to respond and crave more. "It's nice to be wrong for a change. Refreshing."

The woman hummed, reaching up to run her fingers through her wet, knotted hair. "First decent evening in ages. I wasn't gonna let some uninvited Predator knock-offs ruin it for me," She was more than a little peeved at the space invaders interrupting her nice date. Tony was a great conversationalist, it was easy to talk to him and he had a brilliant sense of humour. Not to mention the obvious, he was easy on the eyes.

"That's the spirit," The voice was closer now, almost in her ear. Even though her eyes were closed, the woman was aware he was reaching for something, letting him butt her hands out of the way to lather her hair, scrubbing at her scalp meticulously, until the sounds that left her mouth bordered on embarrassing. Once that was done, Tony moved onto her body, running his hands over her back, the outside of her hips. "M'not stepping over, am I?" He asked quietly, touch faltering every time he brushed over a scrape or a bruise.

"No, you're doing great, Tony," It wasn't exactly conventional - sharing a very intimate shower after an interrupted first date, but then again, nothing about this man was conventional and her life had already been turned upside down no less than twice recently. The woman didn't lie, the gentle, caring touch felt soothing.

Arching her back, she lifted her arms to repay him with the same, raking her fingers through his hair, leaning into the shudder that ran throughout his body. It was nice to bask in whatever they had going on, so the motion to face him was almost reluctant. Water droplets stuck to his eyelashes and his eyes were tired but not in a way that suggested he'd kick her out first chance.

Their kiss was sweet, slow, like they already were familiar with each other in a special way. The woman tugged on his lip with her teeth - such was her character - and he pressed closer to her, raising a hand to hold the side of her face. In muted curiosity, she couldn't help but wonder if there ever had been someone that waited for him once his battles were over.

Tony's eyelashes, the very same that had no business being this long on a man, fluttered against her cheek as they stood under the shower, letting water wash away the day.

"I've always wanted to kiss in the rain, like they do in the movies. This is the closest I've gotten," She whispered, gently kneading the arch of his shoulders. "Feels better than it looks, to be honest."

Tony snorted, reaching for the knob to turn it off. "Cheesy," He teased her, wrapping a warm, fluffy towel around her body. Both people made quick work of drying themselves, exiting the fogged up bathroom, making way into the bedroom, padding soft on the carpet and falling down on the bed carelessly.

"I'm the queen of cheesy one-liners," The woman raised her eyebrows, scooting under the sheets next to Tony who opened his arms wide, a smirk on his face. She didn't give him the chance to reply, slotting her lips over his instead and groaning as their heated bodies once again rested against each other.

She ran her hands over Tony's defined pecs, glossing over the arc reactor, raked nails over his tummy, eating up the sighs leaving his mouth at the gesture. He was a beautiful man, she wasn't going to lie to herself. The warmth that settled low in her belly grew, spreading throughout her limbs and temporarily overshadowing the exhaustion.

The engineer, too, was quite excited - his erection poked her hip - and content to be steered to her wishes by the hand in his hair. Groans and sighs left his moist, parted lips as his eagerness bled into his hands, grip firm and steady on the panting woman's hips.

Adrenaline did something to her body, caused it to ache sweetly, a hunger to be satisfied only by a lover's touch. And touch she did; her mouth tasted him, alternating sucking gentle marks onto his throat and nibbling on the skin stretched thinly over his collarbones. Tony's sighs grew in depth and volume with every silent action of worship.

No inch of his body was left untouched, the woman was an all-hands-on-deck kind of lover, happily making her way down until soft lips wrapped around the crown of his cock, making his hips arch into it, hands fisted in the soft white sheets. "You devil," Tony gasped out, limbs turning to jelly, watching the woman all but devour his cock.

She popped off minutely, a trail of sticky saliva running down her chin, sticking to his glistening cock. "The power of Christ compels me?" With a smirk, her tongue trailed from his balls to the very tip, paying extra attention to the frenulum, making Tony shudder and gasp out an embarrassed laugh.

"Uh-uh," Stripped of his usual snark, he was but a man at her mercy.

"It's not very compelling," The predatory stretch of her lips widened as she took mercy on him, giving his cock a few slow tugs with her hand. Her mouth, her hand and his cock were dripping. "Gonna let me do all the legwork, Mr. Stark?" She sat up straighter, inadvertently drawing his eyes to the apex of her thighs where the woman's sex glistened in the dim light, lips swollen and inviting.

It sounded like she was mocking him, teasing him, egging him into a lustful frenzy none of them had the energy for but craved anyway. Tony Stark wasn't the one to back down from a fair challenge so he relented, flipping them over with ease, landing between her spread legs, eyes drawn to the momentary bounce of her breasts. Tony wasted no time in suckling a hard nipple into his mouth, humming in response to her choked-off moan of surprise.

"Tony," Her body arched into his touch, tender skin hot under the callouses on his fingertips.

"Yes, demon, dear?" A lopsided grin and laughter in his eyes preceded the wet stripe Tony licked down to her navel. "Wasn't there something about not telling demons your name? Guess you have power over me now," He trailed off cheekily, soft breaths puffing over her mound.

The woman bit her lip, peering down to rake a hand through Tony's hair, snagging a fistful to gently steer him towards her pussy. Tony's smile was one of satisfaction as he obediently followed her silent order, nosing along the line of her cunt, dipping his tongue to run slow, sloppy lines through the soaked folds.

"Fuck," She mumbled, spreading her legs without shame. "Yeah, right there," Her fingers turned white at the agility of Tony's tongue on her clit. He was swift and relentless in pursuit of the spots that made her moan and clench around nothing. The moisture of her sex soaked his goatee but he couldn't care less.

He growled when she attempted to withdraw, wrapping his muscular arms around her thighs to keep her still for his pleasure, wringing noises that increased in volume with every stroke of his tongue on her sex.

"Tony- please, Tony, I'm gonna-" The warning was brief; her back arched as a broken moan found its way past her moist, parted lips, her pussy spasmed, dripping all over his face and the sheets.

The engineer hid his smile against her thigh, discreetly wiping the obscene amounts of moisture she produced. It wasn't very long until her hands, slightly shaky, were tugging him upwards to meet his face in a rushed, graceless kiss. There was an equal lack of finesse in the glide of his erection along her sex.

"Okay?" He mumbled into her ear, lining himself up with her fluttering cunt.

"Please," She gasped, her hands pushing his hips onto her, eagerly lifting up to accept the sweet intrusion.

There was a quiet stutter in both of their breathing, hearts thudding against their ribs as he finally bottomed out, the thickness of him nestled snugly inside the rippling muscle. The pace he started out was agonizingly slow and inexplicably sweet, neither of them wanting to end their coupling prematurely but not being able to hold back the need that consumed them both.

"Fuck, you're so good to me," Tony's mumbling was overshadowed by the slick sounds coming from the place they were joined. "Gonna fill up this pretty pussy."

The woman keened at the idea, digging her nails into his ass, pulling him further into her.

"You'd like that?" He picked up the pace, blunt tip of his cock catching up with the tail end of her previous orgasm and re-lighting the fire in her belly anew.

"Yeah, Tony, please," No trace of the previous coyness in her voice, the woman was more than ready to beg, murder and steal to feel the man come undone in her arms.

It didn't take long, not with the adrenaline making their blood sing and the chemistry they shared. The brutal pace of Tony's hips quickly grew sloppy and erratic, the tightening of her inner muscles egging him on. He chased his release with deep, powerful thrusts that had the bedsheets rustle pitifully and beads of clear swear drip down his forehead.

As soon as her body arched once more, Tony let go of his control, slotting himself deeply into her spasming heat, cock throbbing as he painted her insides white with his seed, groaning incomprehensible compliments and profanities through his teeth. Chest heaving, the engineer couldn't do much more but let himself carefully fall onto her chest, aftershocks making him twitch when the woman began running a gentle hand through his hair.

"We're doing this again," He decided, still breathless but already a step ahead. She laughed.

Tony Stark taglist: @pilloclock @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @downeyreads @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @slothspaghettiwrites @bluecrazedandbeautiful

[bambamramfan]

Devil’s Advocate in the Details

(Apologies for the incredibly punny title but it’s true.)

Left twitter is going through gyrations about the term “Devil’s Advocate” today. There’s an original long thread by Tressie McMillan Cottom https://twitter.com/tressiemcphd/status/1383101102921502726 (who I rather like from her substack about essaying, and her interview with EKlein), a blow up by Jessie Singal (who is... Jesse Singal) https://twitter.com/jessesingal/status/1383267303035346949 and a defense of Tressie by Zeynep (who is great) https://twitter.com/zeynep/status/1383403260409565192 .

You can read all of them but it won’t really edify you, beyond giving you context of bad things said during this debate.

So let’s be clear: there are very annoying contrarians, and there are incredibly useful contrarians. They aren’t the same groups, but sometimes they overlap.

It is annoying to enter every conversation with no knowledge of the context or substantive details, no curiosity to learn about them, and to demand that people justify every shorthand-assumed principle involved just because you have nothing else to contribute to the discussion. It is doubly annoying in ideological safe spaces that aren’t set up for the mission of “constantly defending your existence to the outside world” who may have heard all of these potshots a hundred times already.

It is necessary that when ideologically aligned groups start making sweeping generalizations, someone be there who points out the corner cases and potential difficulties and all the various details that could make the generalization wrong. This is true even if the ideology is mostly good, because you want to be doing actual good for the world and not just ignoring various details and contradictions because they are inconvenient to your simplistic map.

Personally I prefer the term “Loyal Opposition” to Devil’s Advocate, but I don’t think it’s a priori a better term, just DA has been memed into uselessness by now, and political linguistics are always on a euphemism treadmill.

Lord knows the right has no time for that for that sort of self-reflection. But the left has less and less patience for it too. So we’ve seen a rise in cheap potshots at the term “Devil’s Advocate” (like ‘why of all people would you side with the Devil’... in between their defenses of the Lil Nash X music video) which ostensibly take as their target the annoying sea lions, but really function to silence uncomfortable internal criticism.

The costs of stifling dissent are so much higher than the costs of trolls. But also some of the trolls are really annoying. If you have to contribute to the discussion of Advocates and the Devils thereof, then at least be specific and don’t use overly broad but satisfying quips that dump out the baby with the bathwater.

[voicelesshatred]

@gearlessjunkdogjoe​​ :: "no way, i'm not doing that." Joe said adamantly while staring at the man and his dragon.

400 Random Dialogue Prompts [meme] :: Accepting

【Man and dragon both turned their sights to one another, curiosity heavy upon them both. For her part, she had figured all humans were the same in their penchants for violence. For his, he merely awaited some demeaning quip from her. Caim was the first to break this contact, facing the peculiar man before them again. The pair were clearly not on the same page; not concerning this man and definitely not concerning one another. A sigh from the great crimson beast.〗 “Perhaps he has overestimated you. Or do you merely wish to wait it out as he will?”

【As she spoke did Caim draw closer to the soldier he’d felled moments ago, the “task” he’d given this man as a judgment of his measure. Impatience had guided his hand, turning the sword in his grasp from a position of offer to a position of offense. A swift hack and the soldier’s head rolled, a claret trail following the momentum. At least one seemed pleased.】

[chibinekochan]

How to become a Demon Ruler 202

Part: Part: 00 I 01 I

GN. Reader insert

taglist: @ayesha95 ; @nomnomcupcakesworld ; @fex-phoenix ; @depressed-bixch ; @kitsune-oji ; @witch-o-memes : @gallantys ,@tanspostsblog ; @undertaker-02 ,

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

Feeling very excited about breakfast I walk beside Barbatos with a light spring in my step.

Diavolo is waiting for us at the already prepared table.

Everything looks very good.

"You seem to be full of energy today. How nice." Diavolo gives me a bright smile.

I return it. "Of course it's a great day. Especially since I have a day off." I sit down.

"If it takes this little to see you this happy we should give you more days off." Diavolo fills up his plate with delicious-looking waffles and pancakes.

"I'm very sorry that won't be possible." Barbatos frowns, troubled.

I sigh and smile. "I know I have responsibilities and I also have to study now." I groan a little. "It's honestly been a while since I had to study. I just hope I won't put any in a bad light."

"You will do fine. If you have any questions I will gladly help you out." Barbatos knows that it won't be easy for you.

"Besides, you won't disappoint either of us. Just keep being yourself, that's all I wish for." Diavolo gently nods at me.

These words warm my heart. "Thank you, I will do my best."

Barbatos nods in my line of sight, refilling my cup.

"By the way, you have a very lovely pendant there." Diavolo's eyes wander over the pendant.

"Thank you, it was a present from Barbatos." My hand casually lands on the golden metal, it's not as cold as expected.

"Is that so? That's very interesting. You have never given me anything like this." Diavolo eyes Barbatos with suspicion.

Barbatos clears his throat. "I had no idea you were interested in jewelry like this. I will rectify this immediately." Barbatos quips back with one of his slightly underhanded remarks.

"As lovely as the pendant is, I don't think it will suit my normal style. I was just wondering if this had any deeper meaning?" Diavolo calmly keeps probing and I feel like the room just got a bit chilly.

"I'm not sure what you are implying with that question." Barbatos stares daggers back at Diavolo.

"Please don't fight, it's a protective charm to keep me safe." I don't like the daggers that both men stare at each other right now.

"Is that so? Still pretty interesting in my opinion, but we should probably discuss this later." Diavolo smiles but he can't fool me. I can tell it's a fake one.

"I agree to that." Barbatos also seems still on the edge.

I don't understand the issue and just finish my breakfast.

"Oh, I almost forgot, but you need to choose your school uniform. I have a catalog here. You can just pick whatever you want to try on and choose what you like. You can mix and match too." Diavolo proceeds to put a thick catalog on the table.

It's very impressive. My eyes go wide." Wow, this is way bigger than I expected." I look at it as Diavolo shoves it my way.

"We have demons of all sizes and types. A snake demon can not wear the same as a goat demon after all." Barbatos calmly explains.

"Wow, that is very thoughtful of you. So is there a human opinion too?" I open the catalog, only to find a long list of different types of demons.

"Of course. We have several options for that. The demon brothers all wear a variety of human uniforms." Diavolo seems to be pretty proud of it.

I just flip through the pages with curiosity. "Oh, the ghost options are super interesting."

Diavolo nods. "I'm particularly proud of that one. It's not easy making clothes for ghosts."

"Sadly it would be see-through on humans so I'd recommend something else." Barbatos sighs slightly.

I can only nod at that. "I will pick something from the human collection. I'm just curious."

Diavolo hums in delight. "I can't wait to see you in whatever uniform you choose."

Barbatos nods in agreement.

At least they are over whatever they argued about earlier.

"Let me prepare a room for you so you can try everything on." Barbatos practically disappears without even waiting for a reply.

I'm left alone with Diavolo at the table.

Suddenly he speaks up. "I know I sprung this all on you but I hope you can forgive me for that."

I look at him slightly confused. "I agreed to it. I'm the one that wants to learn more about the devildom. There might be other options but I want to support your dream. Bringing all of the realms together sounds far-fetched, to be honest, but we can never reach that goal without taking the first step. I'm willing to take that first step for everyone." I feel calm and clear about my goals, I smile at Diavolo.

Diavolos eyes start to sparkle and he puts his hand in mine. "Thank you very much for this. There are no words to express my gratitude to you." His eyes sparkle and speak of many emotions. My heart starts to beat faster. I'm almost worried that he will hear it. I can only look into his eyes without any movements.

Then the door opens again and Diavolo retracts his hand like he has been caught doing something bad.

I'm confused by his actions but don't say anything.

"Everything is ready for you, young master." Barbatos doesn't seem to notice the strange look I give Diavolo.

"I'm coming." I almost rush to escape the slightly awkward atmosphere.

Barbatos looks at me curiously but then shows me to the room.

It's a very fancy room with the different school uniforms on hangers all neatly lined up. There is a couch in the middle of the room and a screen for privacy.

"I will wait back in the dining room. Please call me if you need anything." Barbatos knows about my need for privacy and I'm thankful for it.

"Thank you Barbatos." I smile at him and he bows towards me.

He closes the door and I start to look at the several different pieces of the devildom school uniform.

I hold a few parts in front of me and start dressing up.

I'm pretty happy with my choice in the end. It's a uniform but I still managed to make it feel me, especially thanks to the accessories that were obviously chosen by both Diavolo and Barbartos.

I feel pretty confident in my uniform and step back outside and walk the short distance to the dining room with a smile.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

tapestry 👑 X

Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)

This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: King Steven had a wandering eye but you never thought it would fall upon you.

This Chapter: The court celebrates the last hunt.

Note: Okay, so I called in today because of my anxiety at the suggestion of my boytoy and he told me to sleep in a bit. He’s not a doctor, but he’s got a PhD (pretty huge dick) so I have to listen. But I got this chapter done last night so y’all still get your fix, lol.

Also, I have to thank you guys, I really can’t thank you enough. I am in love with this fic and truly in your discussion of it bc yall seem as invested as I am and I just love all the possibilities and how these characters are turning out and it’s all been so much fun. So please, enjoy and remember that I love you (but I will not leave my wife for you, sorry).

(also open to new moodboards for the fic or even playlists for inspo if anyone’s interested. memes always welcome.)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋 You guys rock!

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply! Love ya!

You were never one to stand out among a crowd. Were it not for the sling around your shoulder, that would still be true. You suspected, without the king's interest, that would be even more true. But despite your simply cut gown, you could sense the eyes as you entered the hall.

The trestles were set with scarlet cloth and silver plates. You followed the other unwed ladies to the table opposite the lower lords. The king would sit at the high table with several favoured lords and ladies and those of the council not among them would sit along the next. 

You were surprised to spot your father along that group of men, though he did not wear the pin that the other counselors wore. He nodded at you from across the room as he took his seat. You were stopped before you could go behind the trestle by a servant in royal colours. The other ladies glanced over but quickly hid their curiosity.

“My lady,” The servant said. “You are to take the place of honour at the high table.”

“Pardon?” You stepped aside to let Joan pass behind you. 

“The king has declared you the Maiden of the Forest. You must take your proper seat,” The servant insisted. “If you would follow me, my lady.”

“Um,” You glanced to the ladies as they sat along the bench then to the table where your father sat. His eyes narrowed at you as he listened to Lord Callum. “Certainly. As you will.”

You waited for the servant to lead you. You climbed the short steps up to the dais that held the king’s table. Diana and Mable sat with their husbands, Anthony and Samuel, and Lord Barnes stood next to an empty chair to the right of the king’s. The royal couple themselves were upon a short platform that held them another half foot above their guests. 

The servant gestured towards Barnes. “Just down there, lady.” He explained. “With Lord Barnes.”

“Thank you,” You nodded to the man and he quickly departed for his other chores.

As you walked along the table, behind chairs both occupied and not, you stared at the king’s chair. The thought of spending the feast next to him filled you with dread. A blur of movement caught your eye and you found Lord Barnes awaiting you with a smile as you drew nearer.

“My lady,” He took your hand and bowed to kiss your hand dramatically. “The venerable Maiden of the Forest.”

“You mock me,” You accused. “Though I should wonder how a man in such a smock could find the gull to do so.”

“Oh but any silk not dull as stone would seem gauche next to your attire, my lady,” He quipped. “As a second daughter, I am certain you expected a convent but you’ve escaped the habit of yet.”

“I thought you the king’s man, not his jester,” You returned. He politely shifted the chair back for you to sit. “Though perhaps a fool’s cap would suit you better.”

“As much as a bolder shade would bring out your complexion, my lady,” He remarked as you sat. “Do you truly seek to deter the king or is this truly what you consider fashionable?”

“This is what an earl’s daughter can afford,” You said sharply. 

“If only half this court was as self-aware as you, my lady,” He sat beside you, “Perhaps then it would not be so turbulent.”

“Oh, if only,” You agreed.

“The sling, however, does brighten the look,” He added. “How does your shoulder fair?”

“Tender but not so insufferable as my company.”

You looked across the room. Rose was not among the ladies. You hadn’t seen her since before the hunt and heard even less of her. ‘I will see that she is dealt with’, those were the words the king had spoke. The promise he’d made to you though you could not untangle his meaning.

“Oh my lady, I do remember the scene in your chambers,” He intoned. “I am not the worst you must suffer.”

He grinned as you looked to him. Your retort was curtailed by the sound of a horn. You stood at the announcement of the king’s arrival and all bowed as he entered. He wore a rich green brocade slitted with gold silk. The queen’s dress was a similar shade though she did not bear the same poise. Her sharp eyes scanned the hall and fell on you. She pushed her shoulders back and averted her gaze with detest.

Barnes shifted on his feet and peeked over at you out of the corner of his eye. You raised your brows and shook your head. He was not so unconcerned as he pretended to be. The king and queen made their entrance to the blaring of the horn and ascended the dais as their subjects waited and watched.

You kept your head forward as they passed behind you and the queen’s skirts brushed against the legs of your chair. “Snake.” She snarled under her breath for you to hear. You struggled not to flinch at the word and listened as her heels clicked up the step to her perch.

“You handle it better than most.” Barnes whispered as the royal couple sat and their guests followed suit.

“What else can I do but bite my tongue and keep my eyes forward?” You returned as he reached for the decanter and filled his goblet. 

“Wine?” He offered but did not await your answer before he poured it in your cup. “And let me say, I’ve seen a dozen or so women in your position and they often resort to boasting, arrogance even.”

“In my position? And you think--”

“Oh, I know of your modesty,” He assured you as he sipped and servants appeared with platters and began to set them out between silver plates. “Though such restraint is almost unknown at this court. I suspect that’s why the king has remained so persistent.”

You drank from your cup and glanced over at the king. You worried he would overhear. He was entirely distracted by Eleanor’s whispers though barely entertained. He scowled as his eyes swept the ceiling and he huffed in response.

“He has persisted before, has he not?” You kept your voice low.

“A month, maybe two, and only after he obtained his prize.” He paused as a platter was set between you. “You only expedited Rose’s downfall but you didn’t cause it.”

“Is that your expectation? A month, maybe two for me?” You wondered. “It is not that I do not expect the same treatment, only that I’d hope to avoid the same end.”

“I don’t know what to expect,” He shrugged as he speared a slice of venison from the platter. “For so long as I’ve known the king, I’ve not quite seen him as I did in your chamber.”

“Surely he must’ve promised the same to other ladies.” You took a smaller piece and scooped some roasted veggies upon your plate.

“Jewels and fancy baubles only,” He said. “Eleanor is a princess herself, even without the marriage. What he intends is not so easily done as said.”

“And you think he truly means to do it?” You hovered your fork above your plate as you stared at him. Despite the edge of his tongue, he proved to be the most honest at court.

“I think he means to have you,” He cut into his venison, “And there is little that can stop him once he has his mind set.”

You looked to your plate and pushed a piece of potato around the silver. Your stomach knotted as you pondered cutting your meat with one hand.

“My lady,” A whisper distracted you. You looked over as the king leaned down. “I should ask after your health.”

“I am well,” You assured him. “My arm does not bother me so much but I must avoid straining it further.”

“Well enough to dance?” He ventured as his eyes lit up. “Being the Maiden of the Forest, it would be expected you take up the boards.”

“A dance.” You assured him, “But not many more. I fear the sling would make me far more ungainly than I already am.”

“A dance, a smile, I relish in all that you allow me, my lady,” His eyes flicked down for just a moment. “And what of the gifts I have given you?”

Your eyes rounded for a moment before you recalled the opal necklace still hidden in your trunk. “Oh, your highness, how forgetful I am. It has all been so hectic I’ve not even the thought to wear it, though it is the finest piece I’ve ever owned.”

“I should like that you would,” He reproached. “As a marker of my love for you.”

You looked down and nodded. “I will have to remind myself,” You said quietly. “I do forget myself so often.”

“Oh, but lady, do not punish yourself,” He said softly. “For I bear you no anger, I only wish to see you well.”

“And I do thank you for your concern,” You looked up at him. “It means very much.”

“I think of nothing else,” He assured you, “No one else.”

He bowed his head and sat up. The queen’s eyes glared across the room as she ignored her husband’s conversation with you. You sat back and took another drink. Barnes was smiling as he swallowed his mouthful.

“While I admire your grace, I know you are rather adept at rancor. Perhaps you would be best to prove the same to him.” He mused. “Oh, it might solve many problems should you speak with more than a lamb’s tongue.”

“I am honest--”

“Oh but you coat it in honey,” He interjected. “Our king is wise. Should you bite him once, he might just leave you alone.”

“And should he choose to swat me down instead?”

“Despite what you’ve known of him, he is not entirely irrational,” He said coolly. “Perhaps he might realize his wife is not so vile after all.”

“Perhaps,” You mulled as you prodded a slice of carrot, “Or perhaps it is too late for even that.”

👑

The night wore on. Your shoulder ached; from the tension, from the stiff chair, from your general discomfort. The king would lean down to speak to you every now and then and as he did, all in the hall would notice. Though they tried to be subtle, you did not miss their intrusive eyes.

Lord Barnes did not hide his awareness either. At times, he'd lean back and speak to the king around you. The queen's malice radiated from the other side of the king but she would not acknowledge her husband's obvious disregard.

When the meal came to an end, the horn sounded once more and the platters were cleared. Several courses had left guests joyous and half-drunk.

The king stood before the band could begin to pluck. He held a hand up as he waited for silence. His subjects hushed their chatter and looked to him. He smiled back, a beacon of kingly grace.

"And so we close another season. This marks the beginning of winter and the end of our most bountiful season." His voice carried easily across the hall. "As is tradition we must crown our Maiden of the Forest."

You gulped and looked to Barnes. He smirked at the king's words and scoffed. He leaned back and watched nonchalantly as Steven continued. A servant appeared at the wave of his hand.

"If you would, my lady," He nodded to you as he took a circlet of vines and petals from the servant.

You rose stiffly. He offered his free hand and you took it as he guided you up beside him. The queen kept her head high and you peered out across the hall. Your father was turned around in his chair watching proudly. The servant helped remove your cap.

"In the name of the hunt, I name you our Maiden of the Forest." The king announced as he placed the crown of flowers upon your head. "May you reign this night with grace and joy."

"Thank you, your highness, " Your voice was brittle as your head swayed.

"And to close the old season and open the new, let us dance." He declared. "Maiden, would you grant me your first dance?"

You nodded. At first, your throat was too tight to speak. The queen's hand was balled in a fist upon the table. "Yes, your highness," You managed, "If you can forgive my shortfalls, it is yours."

"Then let us dance!" He boomed.

For a moment, no one moved and then all at once, the band picked up and the nobles began to rise from the tables. They filtered out to the floor as the king led you behind the chairs and from the dais. Barnes did not rise and poured himself another cup.

The king pressed his palm to yours as you came to face each other. You felt awkward and unbalanced with your other arm in its sling. As he moved his feet, you shuffled around him. You hadn't thought your dancing could get worse.

"My lady, I am glad to see you well." He cooed. "I admit I was restless with worry for you."

"Your highness." You said curtly and looked around at the other dancers.

He was silent for a moment as you followed the music.

"Have I wronged you, my lady?" He asked.

"Have you? Oh, how can you not see what you do to me? This court reviles me due to your humiliation of the queen. Your declarations that would allude to adultery."

"My lady, I only mean to honour you and your virtue--"

"What you mean and what you have done are not the same. You would crown me with your wife at your side. You would overlook her for me. You would sully my virtue as you claim to protect it." You glanced over at Barnes as he remained at the table. He looked into his cup as he sloshed it around. "And I have treated you with nothing by reverence and yet you persist."

"I have promised you anon that the woman who claims herself as my wife is none such." He hissed. "But I must gather my evidence before I can make it known. Before I can right what is wrong."

"You promise me what you cannot give. You would rob me of my future for your present desire. Your highness, I cannot hold my tongue further and tolerate you as you are so blatant in your disregard." You pulled away from him. A little bite to warn him; to scare him away. "Your majesty I must return to my former chambers and return to you your gift accepted only under duress for I cannot demean myself for you any longer. Not so long as you sit in sin."

He reeled as if you had struck him. You stepped away as he stared at you, his nostrils flared as his eyes searched you. He lingered between fury and despair.

"My lady, you do mistreat me."

"The truth is not always painless, your highness," You said sternly. "And I do not wish to remain the victim of rumour." You lowered your hand. "It cannot be… good night, your highness. "

You bowed and spun on your heel so quickly you nearly slipped. You lifted your skirts to scurry between the bodies. Your flesh was afire as you fled into the corridor.

You took a breath and continued along the stone floor. You heard the door and looked back to the shadow that followed you. The king found you through the flicker of lanterns and turned to trail you. You rounded the corner as you picked up your feet. 

"My lady," He called after you as his boots echoed on the stone. "Please, do not run from me."

You moved as quickly as you could, the motion jolted your shoulder painfully. He was close as you reached the next corner and he caught your hand before you could evade him. He drew you to face him as he looked down at you.

"Why do you spurn me? Why do you accuse me of spite when all I've shown you is kindness?" He pleaded. His grip slid to your wrist and he squeezed. "Why do you delay me if you do not yearn for what I promise you?"

"You're hurting me," You gasped as his hold grew firmer. "Your highness."

"I give and I give and I give," He stepped closer until you were against the wall. "And you withhold yourself from me."

"You scare me," You breathed.  

"I promise you a union, a crown, and all you could desire and yet you reprimand me and let me suffer so," He was against you. He pressed his body to yours and you felt a hardness beneath his belt.

"And I have not pushed you. I have not violated you. I have waited." He ground his pelvis into you as he crushed your injured arm. "I have not taken you as I have dreamt. I have not come into your chambers as you sleep and taken what I desire." 

He let go of your wrist and grabbed your chin. He forced you to look at him. "Because, my lady, I have decided that I will have you. Not just as my mistress, but as my wife, my queen. Because I don't just want that treasure you hide beneath those skirts," He bent so that his breath was upon your face."I want everything you have because you would deny me of the one thing I asked. "

You gaped up at him and trembled. You winced as his weight pushed on your sore shoulder. He leaned in until his nose touched yours.

"And though, at this moment, I could gather your skirts and take you against this wall, I will not," He pushed his hips harder against you. "Because when I do take you, I will be certain that you shall never elude me again." 

He pressed his lips to yours as he held your jaw in place. You struggled as he seemed like to devour you. You were trapped against the stone; terrified and helpless. He pulled away slowly and rubbed along your cheek with his thumb. 

"My lady, remember my benevolence for my restraint frays." He growled. "Though in the end, my desire will not."