#they kept everything except the location secret

[mariasont]

Okay okay, so this doesn't have to be smutty if you don't want but enemies to lovers Spencer, they banter and fight at work they just can't get along * cough sexual tension cough* she is like really short, 5 foot nothing. And one day during an argument she goes "I'll climb you like a tree!" Trying to be intimidating but it comes off as something entirely 😂

Climb You Like A Tree

A/N: ahhhh thank you so much for the request--loved, loved, loveddd writing this! <3 xoxo

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: suggestive flirting, enemies to lovers

wc: 1.1k

From the moment you joined the BAU, you were immediately drawn to Dr. Spencer Reid, resident boy genius and pretty boy. You were hooked on his random facts, and his rare snarky comments--essentially everything about him.

But that admiration swiftly turned into exasperation after just a week of working alongside him. What began as quirky charm quickly soured; his random facts, once amusing, now felt like thinly veiled jabs, and his 'occasional' snark became a relentless critique targeting you. You were at a loss, unable to pinpoint the exact misstep that had seemingly placed you on the receiving end of his pointed barbs, but it was clear you had inadvertently crossed some invisible line.

You couldn't shake the feeling that you were an unwelcome replacement for Alex in his eyes. But surely, he couldn't blame you for that, could he? You tried to overlook his subtle digs, to treat them as mere background noise, but god he made it hard.

Month after month, you kept your head down, refusing the grant him the reaction he so desperately wanted. You were new and hesitant about your place on the team, so you bore the blunt of his jabs with a diplomatic smile.

By the fourth month, you'd reached your breaking point, and you unleashed your own brand of sharp-tongued retorts. You were known for your smart mouth in your old department--a skill that had made you both a standout and a frequent flyer in the disciplinary office. You could sense the team's growing frustration at your constant bickering. Yet, there was an unspoken acknowledgement of the singular abilities you both contributed, a balance that tipped in the favor of necessity.

Today had been particularly challenging, your most recent case had ended in the death of seven victims before the unsub ultimately killed himself, taking the locations of the victims with him. So, when you landed and were greeted not by a moment's rest but by a mocking monolith of paperwork, you were at your wits end.

"Could you click that pen any louder?" you grumbled, your eyes blazing with irritation as they met Spencer's, causing for a momentary pause in your flurry of activity.

"Technically, yes. The Doppler Effect dictates that the perceived volume changes with distance, so if I were to move closer to you, the clicking would indeed sound louder to you," Spencer retorted with a sardonic edge, inching closer across the desk, his pen's clicks swelling in volume as if to underscore the scientific principle he so carefully threw upon you.

"Come any closer and I swear I'll shove that pen where the sun doesn't shine."

"Yeah, you'd like that wouldn't you?"

You bit back the words that sat on the tip of your tongue, acutely aware of Hotch's scrutinizing stare. If was reprimand was on the horizon, you were determined not to be the recipient, despite Spencer's knack for bushing your buttons. The worst part of it all was how undeniably attractive you found Spencer to be--you liked his nerdy comments, the way you had to break your neck to look at him, and even that stupid smirk of his.

It was like a twisted game of fuck, marry, kill--except Spencer was your choice for all three, a secret you'd never admit to anyone. God knows that his ego was already overinflated.

"You know, while acai berries themselves are rich in antioxidants, the bowls are often misleadingly marketed as superfoods. In reality, the excessive amounts of granola, sweetened fruits, and added sugars make it the equivalent of dressing up a dessert as a fruit salad."

Your spoon paused mid-air suspended in the stillness of the break room, as your gaze drifted upwards to lock with Spencer's. A smirk unfurled across your lips, and with deliberate slowness, you savored a slow, exaggerated mouthful, the spoon exiting your mouth with a prolonged, tantalizing pull. A contented moan escaped you. "Mmm, nothing beats a bowl of disguised indulgence. Thanks for the insight, but this 'fruit salad' just became a tad sweeter."

You observed him as he stood, mouth slightly open, eyes glued to your lips with an intensity that bordered on reverence. Anticipating his usual quick-witted comeback, you were met with silence. "Aww, what's the matter, wonder boy? Cat got your tongue?"

"Not at all, but it wouldn't hurt for the cat to catch yours for a change," he replied, stepping forward, his stare cutting through the space between you. 

"Look who's talking. When you finally decide to censor your own commentary, that's when I'll consider silence," you pronounced, your acai bowl abandoned on the counter as a wave of irritation surged within you, propelling you forward.

"Censor my commentary? Trust me, If I didn't, we'd be having a very different conversation right now," he murmured, his frame inching so close you could feel the warmth of his breath.

"You must love the sound of my voice to be this close. Remind me again about the Doppler Effect?" you snapped, attempting to sound unaffected, but your body betrayed you--a rush of warmth blooming over your face. "Or is it just my personal bubble that's too tempting?"

"Are you always this flustered when someone invades your space, or am I the exception?" he teased, stepping in even closer, nearly pressing against you. Your gazes locked in a silent challenge as you tilted you head up defiantly, your heart doing somersaults in your chest.

"Flustered? Hardly. I'm just sizing up the tree before I climb," you declare, your gaze sharpening to fine points. "And you're not as tall as you think."

A sudden burst of laughter spilled from Spencer, a rich sound that echoed through the minimal space between you. He didn't step back, your chests touching. The sound jolted you, and as the weight of your own words hit you, a fierce blush flared across your cheeks, your embarrassment impossible to hide.

"Wait, that's not--ugh!" you stammer, but Spencer is already retreating towards the bullpen, his laughter trailing behind him, taunting you. Your voice echoes down the hallway as you hurry after his figure. "Spencer!"

At the bullpen's entrance, Spencer halts, turning to address the team with a grin. "Guess who just said she's planning to climb me like a tree?" he announces, your words now on display for the entire team. Heat creeps into your cheeks as you wish the ground would swallow you whole.

"Called it!" Penelope's voice rang up, her hands waving like she was directing a parade. "Profiler? Please, I didn't need a badge to see this coming. Doubters, eat your hearts out. Get it, girl!"

"I said 'like a tree' in a metaphorical sense, guys. You know, like overcoming obstacles...not literally climbing Spencer!" you mumble, your face hidden behind your hands, the embarrassment radiating from your cheeks.

With a lean that closed the gap between you, Spencer's voice was low and teasing, "Keep telling yourself that."

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon fingering you under the table during a night out at the bar with the Taskforce.

The feeling of rough fingers grazing against your clothed thigh is not uncommon, not when seated next to Lt. Riley. His precious plaything, his best kept secret, he is always trying to steal little moments any chance he can get and tonight’s no exception, even if it is risky. Fuck, that heightens the need for him to prove he isn’t afraid to jeopardize everything just to make sure he keeps his pretty little thing at his mercy.

The bar is busy, crowded with loud, inebriated people there to drink and have fun. You find yourself sitting around a group of tables that have been pushed together to fit everyone in the taskforce from Captain Price to the newest recruits around. Everyone is in a good mood even being squashed in tight together, all going about laughing and drinking away as they enjoy a well-deserved night of freedom, none the wiser as to what is beginning to happen right under their noses just below the tabletop. 

And neither do you, not yet.

Simon keeps his hand firmly on you, letting it rest there possessively on your thigh as he lifts his mask from time to time to take sips off his glass of bourbon, massaging the muscle for a while as he listens at the edge of the conversations going on around that you are also barely paying attention to. Round two and then three happen the same as before until there is a shift in that burly military man’s demeanor.

Those fingers that had been content to lay on your lap start to wander, fueled by the liquor flowing through his veins, making rational thought fly away, and soon you can feel his hand moving upward and inching itself closer to the waistband of your pants. There is a sudden warmth at the side of your head as you take another swig from your drink, letting the liquid spirits run down the back of your throat like fire as you keep your eyes forward. 

“Open your legs,” the gravelly, heavily accented voice at your elbow growls in a hushed whisper into your ear through the smoke of his cigarette perched between his fingers. Simon reaches the top of your pants with the opposite hand and slips his fingers between the fabric and your balmy skin. 

He has to be ever so slow or risk the movement of his arm giving him away to anyone who happens to pay enough attention in that moment as he carefully undoes the button of your jeans and slowly lowers the zipper all the way down until it stops. Risking a glance up into his face, you are met with a devilish smirk that makes your heart skip a beat and instantly lets you know you are in deep fucking shit now; he’s in the mood to play. 

“Really?” you whisper back as you hold your drink to your lips to keep up the act, cheeks flushing fiery hot and not from the alcohol. Discreetly you try squeezing your legs together slightly, having just a bit of sense left to know that he should stop, you could get caught red handed, but at the same time not really wanting him to. “Not here. Wait till later; we’ll have fun when we get back.”

“Yes, here. Open. Your. Legs.” he repeats more firmly this second time as his hand slips inside the opening he’s created and right down between your thighs to pry them apart with the width of his hand. “Need ta feel ya, pretty girl.”

The alcohol heightens that feeling of giddy excitement, the rush and euphoria of doing something so insanely risky, and as you look around at the distracted faces at the table you can’t resist, not when his hand is already inside your pants. You move in your seat so that you can open your legs as wide as you can without it looking strange.  

Even with the imminent threat of detection growing by the second, there is no stopping him as Simon’s tough, calloused fingers search around until they locate the crotch of your panties and lace themselves through the seam, pulling them to the side until your pussy is exposed to his hand. There is a subtle heat that hits his fingertips, inviting him in further now that there is nothing to block it and he can feel his cock throb as it hits his hand. You swallow hard, breathing heavily out of your nose to help calm yourself as you clamp your lips shut to stop from audibly moaning at that first contact.

Another calm drag off his cig and he side-eyes you as he parts through your petals to slip a finger inside near the source of the heat against your clit and begins to stroke that sensitive bundle of nerves in slow, concise circles. So soft, so warm, nothing has ever felt more amazing. His head is buzzing and grows more hazy with each flick of his finger through the gathering dampness between your legs. All that delicious frictions at the tips of his fingers, fuck was he in it now.

You aren’t fairing much better, that fog rolling through your head, the minutes ticking away as that ecstasy gathers in the pit of your stomach. Soon you can barely see straight and you crave to do more. Setting your glass down, you let one of your arms rest on top of the table to create more shadow over your lap, but the other hand wants to get in on the action too. 

You lower it below the table and reach out towards him, wanting to rub him over his jeans, feel his cock pulse against the palm, but he stops you before you can even get over the bulk of his wide thigh. His cigarette dangles from his lips as his hand shoots down and grips tightly around your wrist to keep you from going further, his finger on your clit stopping and resting there a moment.  

“Keep those greedy hands to yourself,” he breathes near your ear as he pretends to look over his shoulder at something on the other side of the bar. “Ya don’t want me to stop, do ya sweetheart? Cause if ya can’t fuckin’ behave I’m gonna have to. Can’t have anyone gettin’ suspicious and endin’ my fun early.”

“No,” you snap back quickly, breathing in and out to calm the thudding in your chest, desperately needing him to continue. “Keep going. Please.”

He releases your hand back to you and you keep it on the tabletop next to the other to hinder yourself from trying to touch him again; you need him to keep going. Satisfied, the rubbing along your clit picks back up to that steady rhythm that it was before. Little beads of sweat speckle across your forehead as your body heats from the inside out the more his finger draws around that sensitive bundle; so depraved, yet absolutely perfect. 

Through puffs of smoke, brown eyes constantly sneak hungry glances as he enjoys every single fucking second of watching you simultaneously fall apart and try to keep it all together all at once. You pick up your drink a few times, pretending to take sips from it, but the way your mouth hangs open as you pant behind the glass he knows it’s all for show.

His jeans are growing tighter as his cock strains against the zipper, throbbing with each beat of his pulse as it races. Your thighs keep squeezing together to trap him against your now swollen clit; the ache is so bad you can hardly stand it. No one has ever looked better a complete and utter mess and Simon is determined to keep you in a constant state of euphoria, especially if he gets to appreciate all that beauty. 

“Move back, wanna get deeper,” he orders.

Subtly you adjust yourself in your seat, leaning back ever so slightly, and spreading your thighs open just enough that that large hand can fit further between them. Your eyes clock those around the table without you moving your head, but everyone still seems to not notice. His fingers move back from your clit towards your entrance and without warning two thick, bulky fingers spread you open as he shoves them up inside your wet cunt. Your body takes them in perfectly, gripping around the digits just as he hoped to suck him in.

You clear your throat to mask the moan desperately trying to escape at the feeling of those warm fingers of his filling you up. “Breathe sweetheart, don’t want ya to pass out,” Simon chuckles under his breath as he curls in fingers inside you. “That’s a good girl. Christ, ya feel good tonight, baby. I can feel you taking in my fingers like it’s nothing.” 

Fuck do you want to grind your hips into his hand, but there’s no way in hell you can hide something like that, not with everyone sitting so close. You’re nearly vibrating in your seat trying to keep still as the sensation of his fingers stretching out your already overstimulated body consumes your every thought. Simon uses his wrist to help snap his fingers up into you faster and faster without causing him to move his arm.

“Goddamit,” you groan in a breathy whisper as he pounds up into you.

Shivers run up and down your spine as he begins to rhythmically work at your G spot with rough and intense movements. The blaring rock music blasting over the speakers keeps the time with the pulsing of your walls the harder he works. At one point you shove your pelvis down into his hand to make as much contact with him as possible, body feverish to the touch. You need more, you need it all, you need him to make you come.

“Please, please,” you whimper almost silently, begging for something that is already being given to you. There is no way he is going to stop; he needs you to come for him now as much as you need him to do it.

“Look at ya takin’ it so fuckin’ well, cheeks all flushed,” he murmurs with a smirk. “Don’t even fuckin’ care ‘bout anything other than keepin’ me happy.” 

Minute after minute, his full attention is focused solely on you, each stroke drawing you increasingly nearer to that razor’s edge and threatening to violently throw you off. Your toes are curling against the soles inside your shoes as you push your feet into the flooring. Goddammit, he is insatiable, but when it comes to you there is nothing else he can be.

The dampness is now covering his fingers and dripping down onto the back of his hand and sticking to the inside of your thighs. Your walls are fluttering something fierce around his fingers, swelling and engorged. He knows you’re close and his pulse races to feel it, that moment you come. No single sensation ever gives him more pleasure than making you fall apart completely. 

Simon compromises giving this little ruse away by leaning in against your ear; he needs you to hear this fucking well. “Come on, pretty thing, finish for me. Come on my fingers.”

This is the point of no return. Those fucking words are all you need to let go.

Suddenly, like a wave washing over you, that warmth gathering in the pit of your stomach reaches its peak and shoots through you as you fall over the edge. You clamp your mouth shut hard, biting your tongue until you taste copper to stop from crying out, but it's not enough. You mewl in your throat and it is loud enough that even Simon reacts to the sound. 

“Shh, shhh,” he coaxes gently as his fingers slow down until they finally come to a stop. “Ya did so well for me sweetheart. Just breathe. I gotcha.”

Quickly you bring your drink back up to your lips and fake a cough to try and cover the noise as you steady your body that wants nothing more than to writhe as you ride out your ecstasy. Unfortunately, the sound catches a few eyes, though they quickly turn back away after only a second, all except one. It is the Scottish sergeant sitting directly across the table from you both that speaks up about it.

“Ya alright there lass?” Johnny asks with a raised eyebrow as he turns his attention to you curiously.

You clear your throat, pretending to accidentally choke on your drink. “Yeah, fine, just went down wrong,” you stammer out in your calmest tone, hoping he buys the lie long enough to go back to what he is doing. Your face is on fire, cheeks flushed warm as Simon’s fingers still rest inside your pussy, your walls still pulsing against them. Maybe you can pass the heat in your face off as a product of the liquor, but something in the sergeant's skeptical lingering gaze makes you not so certain if he’s buying it at all.

“Ya sure there?” he questions again.

You nod, trying not to fully meet his eyes as you come up with your next lie when a pretty thing from across the bar who has been eyeing the sergeant all night walks up out of nowhere and taps him on the shoulder, pulling him directly from this conversation before it gets any more awkward and you feel like you can relax fully again.

Licking your lips, you turned your attention back to Simon who is eating up every last second of you almost being caught with his hand in your pants. Those auburn eyes are giving you sideways glances as he raises his glass to finish off the last of his drink, removing his fingers achingly slow, wiping them against the crotch of your panties to remove your juices, all with a subtle smirk that dances at the corner of his mouth. You wait till he’s done and sits back fully in his seat with the glass back on the table before you dig your fingers into the bulk of his thigh. 

“Restroom.” you demand and immediately get yourself in order so that you can get up from the table. “Now.”

He knows what you want and he’s ready to accept the consequences of his actions. There is no way you are waiting until later to continue this. Simon wanted to start this here, it’s going to have to be finished here. He gives you a headstart before following right behind, slipping through the crowd as quickly as he can without being detected; there is a tenting at the crotch of his pants that is hard to hide properly.

You are waiting for him just on the other side of the restroom door so that before he can fully get in you are already on him, ripping his mask up and off his head with greedy hands so that your hot, aching lips can desperately meet for the first time tonight. A tangled mess of limbs intertwined and bodies molded into one another he pulls you into the nearest stall and slams the door shut, locking it without ever removing his mouth from your own. God, if these walls could talk they’d have so many salacious stories to tell about you two sneaking away here to screw each other. 

Feverish hands are ripping off clothing at breakneck speeds as flesh begs to connect with flesh. It’s like striking a match in a room filled with gasoline; the moment you two get started, it’s hard to stop without at least parts of you getting naked.

His cock-hungry slag, your pussy-ravenous superior; it is a match made in erotic heaven.

“Finish what you started, you bastard,” you plead agitatedly.

His lips upturn against your mouth. “Ya don’t even have to fuckin’ ask, sweetheart,” he replies as he shoves your jeans off your hips while taking your soaked panties with them, pushing them onto the floor before picking you up so you have to wrap you legs around his waist, followed by a bang from your back hitting the stall wall.

[yelenaslyubov]

A New Frontier: Part 1

a new frontier // part 1 // part 2

main masterlist || yelena belova || requests

a/n: welcome to the first part of my first series! like i said in my announcement, i’m not sure how many parts this series will have, but as i see it now, definitely over 6 so get excited about that!! this first part is definitely a build up to everything will be contained going further, so there’s not much adventuring in this one. i hope you enjoy!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ pairing: yelena belova x reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ warnings: language

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ description: you’re granted the opportunity to join the avengers on your first top secret mission together. not only are you navigating your newfound status as an avenger, but you’re also trying to hide your affection for another avenger, yelena. you travel to your location in stealth and soon find out what kind of mess you’ve really gotten into.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ word count: 3.2k

Your eyes jolted open when you realized you had fallen asleep accidentally.

“…and we need to act fast in order to make sure we do our part in this mess. And remember, none of you jackasses better make a peep about this, I mean it.”

Shit.

You had fallen asleep during the majority of Tony’s mission announcement. This was the first stakeout call that you had been invited on since you had been recruited. Most jobs were simple and thorough—fighting and taking down a villain and so on. Everything was usually the same, except this time and you missed it.

“Alright, that’s all I got. Be ready and down to the pad in an hour.” Tony dismissed everyone from the room when they all dispersed and you were left disoriented from the meeting.

“AH, I’m so excited!” you heard Kamala squeal. You assumed she had been asked out on the mission as well, making this her first too. “I’ve never seen a horse in person before!”

Now you were even more confused as to what was happening. You decided to be surprised rather than ask too many questions, especially since you were new. You couldn’t be caught slacking on the job already.

You went up to your room to pack whatever you could with the little information you had. You remembered something being said in between your slumber about it being dry and hot, so you kept that in mind.

You packed all the toiletries you had since you did not know when you would return. You didn’t have a permanent suit currently, as it was still being worked on and you didn’t know when it was going to be done. You hoped you could finally break into it on this trip so you wouldn’t have to use one of the hand-me-downs.

You jumped as you heard a knock at your door. “Can I come in?” Kate shouted through the door. Even before you could speak Kate had opened the door and was on a mission.

“Do you have deodorant or a hairbrush? I-I must have lost mine or run out because I don’t know where they went.”

Kate was the first friend you had made since you had been recruited. You both hit it off immediately and she made the transition from normal life to super life much easier.

“How does one not know when they run out of deodorant?” you chuckled.

“I honestly don’t know. I think I kinda just slap it on without looking while I’m halfway out the door,” she stammered.

“Well in that case, yes, I have both deodorant and a hairbrush so you lucked out today.”

“Ugh, thank you, you’re a lifesaver,” Kate sighed. “Oh, by the way! If you’re all good with it I think Kamala was going to bunk with me and it’s three to a room so you wanna join?”

“Uhm, that sounds good,” you responded. You were nervous to be in such close proximity to so many new people, but you were excited to be involved in something this secretive.

“Awesome! Well, I’ll see you down there then.” Kate smiled and then ran out of the room in the same manner she came. It was then you realized you missed your chance to ask her what exactly you all were doing and what you should bring. It added even more mystery.

You had filled your duffel bag to the brim with anything you could think of—a couple books, clothes for all weather conditions, a swimsuit, a coat, etc. You had said goodbye to your room for the time being when you ran into another Avenger in the hallway.

“Oh, uhm hey.” You were face to face with a green-eyed woman looking slightly up at you. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“It’s good,” the woman smiled and shrugged. She walked off without saying a word and you felt an uncomfortable aura blooming.

The butterflies in your stomach slowed their flutter the farther away the woman went. You had learned in your first few days as an Avenger that her name was Yelena. She had short blonde hair and the most captivating eyes you had ever seen. She was nothing short of intimidating so you had exchanged little words between the two of you. This was most inconvenient for you because you were tired of her staring at you as if you were a bit helpless.

You hoped this trip proved otherwise.

You were still awkwardly standing in the hallway after your encounter with Yelena when Kamala came out of her room with what looked like all her belongings balances in her arms. You could make out her eyes peeking between different objects that looked like a fan and a small table.

“I hope I packed enough,” she said through muffled words. “I don’t know how long we’ll be gone.”

“I don’t think you’ll have any problem with that,” you laughed. You watched her carefully walk down the stairs with the rest of her things.

Based on everyone’s timely exit, you assumed that you should probably make your way down to load up. When you made your way down to the pad where everyone else was waiting. Everyone’s packs varied in size so you had no idea how your packing job compared to anyone else’s.

Wanda and Nat had a decent sized suitcase for the both of them to share and others had small duffel bags. You giggled a little to yourself when you saw Peter’s only bag which appeared to be his school bag.

“How did you manage to fit everything in there, Pete?” you asked him.

“Oh uhm all I really need is a few clothes, but the rest is homework.”

“You’re bringing homework on an Avenger’s top secret mission?”

“Uh… yes?”

“That sounds like a sad life, Peter Parker.” You looked to your right where Yelena was standing. “Do you do anything for your own pleasure… like ever?”

You, Yelena, and Peter all stood together staring at one another, waiting for someone to say anything.

“Alright!” Tony yelled. “It’s time to load up.”

Everyone made their way onto their biggest quinjet they had and found their seats. You sat towards the back of the jet as you filed in behind Yelena. Conveniently, you sat directly behind her so you had the perfect view for the duration of the flight. Kamala sat down next to you with her stuffed giraffe in hand.

You heard the echo of the seat buckles clanking together as everyone took their place. You then watched as Yelena twisted her hair up high and put it in a bun. You were mesmerized by the way her blonde highlights caught the glimmer of light shining through the small windows.

Kate looked back at you at the wrong moment because she caught you staring at Yelena. She smirked and winked, signaling that she planned on keeping your secret. Your face was flush with embarrassment. You had not planned to let anyone in on your little crush but there was no going back now. All you had to do was prevent Yelena from finding out.

Tony hopped on last and shut the large door behind him. “As much as I wish I was joining you on this part of the excursion, I’m going to be residing on a small base right outside of the airport we’ll be flying into. I’m working on tracking air transportation as well as focusing on the technical aspects of the issue. I will be checking in regularly.

“As much as I would love to fly everywhere, we have to be more careful.” You looked around at the others to see if they had any clue to what he was talking about. “Once we arrive at the airport, you’ll be assigned vehicles that you must transport in. Using jets gets too risky with the high volume of dust and dirt. You would be noticed too easily that way, so it’s much easier to fit in with the rest of the crowd. Another form of transformation will be provided… promptly.”

Tony sat down in the controller seat without another word, leaving only you at a loss of what could be coming.

You stared at the back of Yelena once again before falling asleep to the sound of her voice and buttons pushing from inside the jet

.

.

.

You jolted awake at the sound of the large compartment door opening. It was abnormally bright and dust seemed to be swarming into the jet. You looked to your right to see Kamala passed out as well.

You stood up to stretch and grab your things, but you were distracted by the look on Yelena’s face as she stared at Kamala. She then turned to you and you were not sure what to do. Yelena looked as if she was trying not to laugh.

“You’ve got something about there…” Yelena gestured around the side of your mouth where you found dried drool from your peaceful sleep.

You frantically wiped it off the best you could and tried to shake the feeling of embarrassment that washed over you. “Oh, I’m sorry, thank you,” you nervously responded.

You proceeded to wipe everything off your face shamefully. You gave Kamala a small tap on the side of her arms in hopes to wake her up. She jolted awake as if she had been screamed at.

“What happened?” she said, groggily.

“You fell asleep…and it looks like we’re here,” you responded. You gathered your things and joined everyone at the front of the quinjet.

“Listen up!” Tony yelled. “This is where I leave you. You’ll be self-escorted from here to the designated vehicles that are waiting outside. I have implemented state of the art trackers and GPS in each of the vehicles. Try to use these vehicles as much as possible. When the time comes, by all means, do whatever is necessary to complete said task, but please, for the love of God, stay hidden. We do not need to be compromised and if I hear about any of you messing around…I will personally handle the situation, and you don’t want that.”

You looked back and forth from Kate to Kamala. You could tell Tony was being serious, which meant this mission was a whole lot harder than you led on in your mind.

As you all unloaded off of the jet the sun pierced through the door making you cover your eyes. Once your eyes adjusted to the brightness, you were met with the vast ground of red clay and trees in the distance. There was not a house or town in sight meaning you were far away from civilization.

“This is my worst nightmare,” Yelena whispered to Natasha.

“No kidding. I can already feel my skin sweltering,” she responded.

Your face recoiled when you saw the rides that were provided to each of you. “They’re joking right?”

“I wish,” Bucky said as he walked by you.

“Ain’t she a beaut, Cap?” Sam said while rubbing his hand back and forth down the side of the truck.

Before you were four rusty, beat-up pickup trucks that were supposed to be your rides for the time being. You weren’t even sure how long they were going to last. They were most definitely older than you.

“Are we sure these are safe to drive…or ride in?” Yelena questioned.

“They’re top of the line, I assure you,” Steve said.

“Maybe when you were born,” she mumbled.

You laughed at her comment and Yelena turned around to look at you and she smirked. Your face couldn’t help but turn a deep shade of pink, but you hoped the heat would disguise your blushing.

“Alright, let’s hit the road. We’re burning daylight here and it’s a two hour drive,” Steve informed everyone which earned a groan from each of them.

Steve, Sam, Bucky, Clint, and Peter took one of the trucks and planned on leading the way to the house. The rest of you assumed you could fit in one truck but there were two left and needed to utilize them both. One truck could seat five and the other could seat three; there were six of you left and you each knew you couldn’t leave someone behind by themselves.

“Race ya!” Kamala yelled. Nat, Wanda, Kate, and Kamala began to run to the five seater truck, while you and Yelena stayed behind. I guess you both assumed that it wasn’t worth fighting over.

You were hesitant to say anything at first but you were curious. “Why didn’t you go with them?”

Yelena shrugged. “My sister and Wanda can get gross when they’re together so I would rather be 100 feet away. But I hope you know I’m driving.”

You nodded in agreement, not wanting to go against her wishes. How could you say no?

You and Yelena put your belongings in the trunk of the car and shut it nice and tight so there was no way it could fly out and escape. Yelena climbed in the driver's seat while you sat next to her in the passenger's seat. The truck started with a sputter and music started blasting through the radio. Tony Keith’s voice rang out, causing you to plug your eyes.

“If this is what the trip has in store,” you gestured to the nature outside and then to the radio, “it’s going to be a long trip.”

“I think my ears are bleeding,” Yelena groaned.

“How about I do this.” You made the executive decision to turn the music completely off. “Better?”

“Much.” Yelena was satisfied with your choice. She followed the kicked up dust trail that led to the truck in front of them. They were farther ahead but you both hoped you hadn’t lost them.

In the meantime, you decided to look around the truck to see what all treasures were held inside. Just by looking at it, it didn’t seem to be anything special. The dash was covered in dirt and dust and old, empty bullet shells rested on top. There were no cup holders for drinks, only a bench seat that could fit another person. You found yourself wondering what would happen if you scooted just a bit closer. You brushed off the thought and continued your scavenger hunt.

There was no backseat, only a small gap that could fit a slender bag. There was a tacklebox that slipped under your seat, so you decided to dig through it. You gasped as you opened it to reveal a pistol made out of vibranium. You could spot it from anywhere.

“Woah!” you admired it. You shifted the small pistol in your hand, observing the craftsmanship.

“Oh shit,” Yelena said. Her eyebrows were raised, telling you she was just as impressed.

“They really did the most.” You took another look at it before you put it back where it belonged and slid it back under the seat. “What we’re to happen if we were stopped somehow and we had that in the car? Wouldn’t they do the math?”

“Look at this thing,” Yelena said plainly.

You looked around at the crusted steering wheel, the patchy seats, and the dirty covered floor. “I suppose you’re right.”

Yelena sighed and continued driving.

You watched the world go by as the clay mesa crowded your vision. It was beautiful in its own way and it was nothing like you had ever seen. The plateau of rock and the arches that presented themselves high off the ground. You may even learn to love it.

You then turned your attention to the driver. Yelena did not go anywhere in public without dressing her best. She was wearing wide cut jeans, a cropped shirt, and high leather boots. The dedication impressed you, especially in this weather. Your eyes wandered from her clothes to her skin and how her olive tone was tanned from the sun. Her eyes twinkled with the reflection of the endless blue sky and you found yourself drowning. Of course until Yelena looked over at you because you had been in a daze for too long.

You turned your attention back out the window with the hope that she wasn’t paying attention to your admiration. The more you stared out the window, the heavier your eyelids were. Eventually, you found yourself drifting to sleep once again with dreams of twinkling green eyes.

.

.

.

You felt a push on your left shoulder but you didn’t move.

There was another push this time, but much harder, causing you to sit all the way up. To your surprise, it was night. You rubbed your eyes and looked to your left to find that Yelena was staring at you.

“Did you know that you snore?” she said outright. Yelena unbuckled and got out of the truck, leaving you stunned all alone.You decided that it would be better not to respond because you wish you could forget it ever happened.

As you slid out of the truck, you looked up at the stars. You had never seen the sky so clear in your life. It was like lightning bugs had hung themselves way up high for everyone to see. You were so distracted by the sky that you didn’t notice where you were.

When you snapped yourself out of your trance you looked around. You were now surrounded by some species of pine tree you couldn’t recall with scarce grass. You were most certainly still in the desert but had traveled farther in the new direction.

In addition, you seemed to be up on a cliff. You looked around once more and there was no sign of a house, let alone anyone else.

“Uh, Yelena,” you questioned. “Where are we?”

Yelena was crouched down ahead of you looking down from the earth when she shushed you. You tried not to take too much offense. You walked to where she was in hopes of figuring out what was going on.

“Yelena, I said, where are-” Yelena covered your mouth quickly. You wanted to resist but all you could do was yell silently into the palm of her hand.

“Be quiet,” Yelena whispered, then held up a finger to her lips as she uncovered her hand from your mouth.

You huffed. “I just want to know what we’re doing out here? Where is everyone?”

“I took a little detour,” she admitted. “I just wanted to scope out the competition and Tony had already wired the GPS with significant locations so I knew where to go.”

“He should’ve known better,” you shook your head. You were already in this mess with her so you might as well finish it.

You focused your eyes to where she was looking to find a small sized building. It was nothing like you pictured it would be in your head. There was a flagpole outside the fence gates with an American flag on it accompanied by another flag that you could not make out. You squinted harder to see what picture was made out on the fabric.

“Is that…” You could spot the unique design of a skull with its six arms recoiled under.

It was Hydra.

//

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[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 20

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: +18! (Minors DNI), smut!, Soldier Boy having ejaculation problem, language, disagreements

Word Count: 6343

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

You kept Ben and others in the dark about the fact that you weren't healing like a supe as the days went by in peace and quiet. You weren't sure why precisely, but you decided that it would be best to wait to discuss the situation in detail with the doctor or learn what had happened from Mindstorm.

Except for the moments you were with Ben, you'd always wished you weren't a supe and could simply live like a regular person in the past. When you two were together, you were cool with being a Supe. You handled his strength whenever he touched you, battled by his side when he needed you, and didn't really care what you were as long as you didn't age like him.

But inevitably things were different. You have to remain a supe in order to defend yourself from everything and everyone. You were aware of it. That's what you wanted. If you weren't a super, you really didn't know how to live a normal life. You couldn't even recall the last time you experienced physical weakness. Neither were you accustomed to seeing bruises on your skin. You sighed with annoyance as your thoughts raced at the possibility of you stopping becoming a Supe at any moment. What happens if your body suddenly loses all of its strength? Even though you still had your powers, you still needed to exercise caution.

In fact, you weren't sure whether that was simply an excuse about that you needed to be a supe. Perhaps all you wanted was to stay alive. You had no idea what your own heart was actually craving. You didn't want to find out, though. 

Butcher had informed Ben and you earlier in the morning that he had located the doctor in charge of Supe Studies for Vought. Ben had given you a strange look, as if he had sensed something, since your heart was beating so quickly. You needed to be prepared for whatever was ahead. It was something you had to embrace. 

“Tonight, we're going to the doctor. It is not very helpful that he is residing at Vought Tower. Although he is well protected, we can still cope with it while we have the strongest supes, right?” With a cunning grin, Butcher said, emphasizing the phrase ‘most powerful’ as though he intended to hurt you. 

You remained silent. You could still tear him in two without even trying your hardest. Of course you wouldn't. Butcher and how to beat him till he bled were among the numerous improper thoughts that sprung from your wounded pride. Ben would undoubtedly die from intense pleasure if he could see your thoughts. 

“Homelander will be there,” you said, tracing your fingers over the table and the page you were doodling on in front of you. Ben was deep in thought as he sat next to you, examining the bizarre things you were sketching randomly. 

“Yeah,” Butcher said unsurely. “Unless his attention is drawn on something different.”

Cutting off Butcher's ambiguous remarks, “What do you mean?” Ben asked. It was evident that he was impatient. 

You knew Butcher was ready to come up with something risky since he was staring at both of you and Ben. His expressions were now easily interpreted. 

“If you use your nuclear chest and explode somewhere, he will come to you. Since everyone will be concentrating on you, Annie and Y/N will be able to sneak into the cave, speak with the doctor, and also obtain more Temp-V.”

“You seem that you thought about this too much,” Ben interrupted; his tone remained cautious, and he showed little interest in Butcher's bold proposal. It was sufficient, in your opinion, nevertheless. 

Ben and you both gave Butcher a startled look. You were now curious about his real intentions. Ben's tensing up was palpable as soon as he learned about the member of the team who had betrayed him. It was impossible to ignore the heat radiating from Ben's chest. You watched him abruptly get up and go toward Butcher in a way that was almost menacing, but you did nothing to soothe him. 

With perplexity, you glanced at Ben. It was risky for the two of you, but you had agreed to take the chance and trust that Butcher would be able to divert Homelander's focus. You had to know the truth. You got frustrated with Ben's attitude now, remembering how he promised you weeks earlier. You could always count on him to let you down. What's happened is that it stopped being surprising.

“How about if I say that I found Mindstorm?”

Ben questioned, “When?” 

“Why do you care? But he's concealing rather well, I have to admit. He must be scared as fuck since you appeared,” Butcher said, but Ben did not care about this fact. All people who betrayed him better be scared. 

Ben said, “Fine,” in a controlled tone that surprised you and Butcher alike. You weren't prepared for him to give up so quickly. “Y/N is not going to Vought Tower, which means I'm not going to blow up anywhere." She will accompany me to Mindstorm. We don't need the doctor.”

“What?” you said, puzzled. He would never gladly embrace Butcher's idea, of course. Watching Ben was determined to go after his own plan, not giving a damn about your thoughts nor contemplating, you shot him a furious glare. “You are not in a position to determine this. It's all about me.”

“I know,” Ben strongly stated. He turned to face you and froze for a second when he noticed how you were staring at him. “But it's too risky for you. This is not what we're doing. Discussion is over.”

You firmly responded, “No,” and furiously dropped the pencil on the table. “We are exactly doing this.”

Butcher sighed with irritation as he observed that you and Ben were prepared for another argument, and he considered his next move. “How about me and Y/N go after Mindstorm and Soldier Boy meeting the doctor himself?” he finally suggested. 

Neither Ben nor you said anything, but Butcher's suggestion didn't seem right. Ben was clearly considering his options attentively while you watched him. You couldn't tell what his real intentions were or whether he truly intended to keep his word. You were discouraged.

Ben firmly stated, “She's not going to Vought Tower without me.” He was determined not to do anything Butcher asked of him and willing to listen to you neither.

“If you think you can kill Homelander and the others there in a very short moment, why not?” Butcher provoked him.

You stated serenely, hoping Ben would understand. “If something goes wrong, I'll be blamed by the public and Vought once more.” You thought he would understand that you were not interested in joining him in his war. All you needed were answers. “You're not going to come with me, and you'll bring Mindstorm. You said you would help me, Ben.”

Ben stared at you for a long time, confused by your cool, composed statements. You knew it was difficult for him to accept the obvious, yet you wanted him to think carefully and not ruin this. 

When he turned back to face you, you were startled watching him think about every possibility. After all, he didn't enjoy following instructions since, in his mind, he was a strong, alpha leader. He was clearly making an effort to maintain his composure in the face of your provocative tone, and you have to agree, it was entertaining to see him struggle.

Ben didn't want to give in and accept Butcher's foolish and dangerous idea, but he was becoming powerless as he saw you almost beg him with your eyes to keep his word. Ben had no idea as to why you would be willing to pay a visit to Vought Tower without taking into account the events that had occurred decades prior. It seems like yesterday when you were deceived and put in a box. Given your physical conditions lately, he might sense your anxiety even at that distance. He would never let someone hurt you ever again. No fucking way. 

Ben added, “And you know I'll keep my promise,” not wanting to say anything more or let you go there by yourself. “But not in that way.”

You sat in your chair and waited for Ben as he approached you. It took you a whole minute to blink before he walked your side. Ben's desire to touch you was overwhelming him, driving him insane and causing him to think filthy stuff, but all he managed to do was touch your chin to get your attention. “Together, we will go to Vought Tower. We can catch Mindstorm another day.”

“I think he's always on the move.” Ben's hands slipped to your chair and caressed your hair from the back when Butcher interrupted. You found it amusing that he had been playing with your hair when his voice abruptly became harsh. Ben had a strange way of being both gentle and tough at the same time.

“How do I know that you're not trying to separate us or trick her?” Ben exclaimed. His explanation of the situation was significantly different from yours. You wouldn't deny that you were grateful that he was careful for you this time and didn't trust Butcher or anyone else.

Ben continued, “I would kill you,” even before Butcher spoke a word. You could tell he despised everything because of the way he spat out the words. You knew that he would murder Butcher. 

Your heart flooded with relief, and you forced yourself to keep yourself from soothing him—his body temperature was changing minute by minute—in an attempt to provide him some peace. It was another problem that needed to be resolved quickly. You made a self-promise to support Ben in this matter as well, not knowing if he would suddenly explode again. Of course, it was after you discovered the truth about yourself. 

“Look, I'm offering you an opportunity to talk to Mindstorm and her to see the doctor, but you are accusing me of something I never ever considered once. Aren't you an ungrateful baby boy?” Butcher remarked, making Ben even more tense.

“Yet,” Ben went on. “I won't allow her to go to the Tower. Fuck Mindstorm. If he attempts to flee again, you'll locate him.”

You firmly said, “Stop it, Ben,” as you stood up and moved away from his gaze. He didn't say anything about that. He needed to keep the promise that he had made. This was something he owed you. You took a long look around the room and considered all of the options and risks. “I'll go to Vought Tower with Annie and Kimiko, and you'll blow somewhere up and then bring Mindstorm.”

“Don't give me orders, sweetie,” he eventually muttered. His look had somewhat changed, and he made an effort to seem as gentle as possible, but it was obvious he was struggling to hold his shit together. Good. “We'll do it in my way.” 

You sighed, “Your ways hurt me enough,” interrupting him before he could say anything more. You had to find a way to stop him arguing, not because you wanted to bring up past events while you were discussing the plan. 

Ben stiffened at what you said, unsure of how to protest anymore, even though he knew that was what you wanted and that it would be difficult to change your mind given how anxious you were about learning the truth about your condition. Even though Ben didn't want to do it at all, he did his best to remain composed and gave you a nod before you left without saying anything more and went upstairs, leaving him alone there with Butcher. 

Butcher was filled with joy as he watched Ben battle to avoid exploding the whole house. His jaw clenched while his heart filled with regret and watched you leave the room without even looking back. You possessed a unique kind of power over him, which he didn't even complain about anymore.

“She knows how to shut your mouth, huh?” Butcher made a quick remark to irritate Ben even more. It would be preferable to toy with Soldier Boy's fury going forward if the idea wouldn't make him blow up anytime and get him killed. 

“Your blowjob-addicted mouth is going to be your undone one day,” Ben said. He waited and pondered you and everything for a while after taking a sip from the half-filled bottle of wine. If something went wrong, he would murder anyone. He wouldn't blink.

“Okay,” Butcher said, not wanting to die today at the very least. “I'm going to pick Kimiko and Frenchie up. You two be prepared in thirty minutes.” 

You were almost finished putting on your supe suit when Ben pushed open the door and entered. When you sensed Ben's pulse pounding with passion and excitement, you couldn't help but feel the same way.

Ben pushed the door open and entered just as you were about to finish donning your super suit. His lips parted with astonishment as his lips curled with a smile. You were tempted to do the same as you sensed Ben's pulse pounding with passion and excitement. It had been so long since you put on your suit that you could not even recall when you did so. With all the iron on your breast and the small iron details on your skirt, you looked like a warrior, and so you'd never really liked it.

Even though you didn't feel like a danger on the inside, you chose to wear your suit to show that you were one, even though it would have been ideal if you had simply worn your regular everyday clothing.

Ben's amazed gaze made you take a long breath, and you glanced at him for a moment before realizing it had been a while since he had put on his own suit as well. You were too preoccupied with living your life like any other human being, devoid of conflicts or battles for reasons.

Ben said, “I didn't think you'd put on your suit ever again,” before shutting the door. You were relieved that this time he had not given you a speech about your opened door.

You answered, honestly, “Me neither.”

“Why?” Ben queried. “I thought you didn't want to be seen as a threat. You don't want to deal with Vought ever again, right?”

Glancing down at your naked legs and the cleavage-revealing breasts, he thought you looked like a goddess. He's always thought highly of you, but right now he was also becoming aroused at every step you took and every breath you took, wanting to touch you and pull you onto the bed behind you. His hardened cock was already straining and pleading to be freed from his pants, but all he could manage was to come nearer to you. His heart beat with passion, recalling how you let him cum within you days before. It wasn't a proper sex, but it felt better than any other sex.

You answered, “Yeah,” and Ben moved forward to stand in front of you. You didn't notice Ben avoiding contact with you for so long when you were in your suit and alone in a room with him; therefore, your body was betraying you with expectations and intense need.

“But I want them to know that they will pay for what they have done to me,” you softly said. “I want them to know that I am a threat to them if so.” Your own voice had taken you by surprise. When you did speak, it was quite quietly, but you were very serious. This was something Ben knew.

You just wanted to live in peace and quiet moving forward; no plans to exact revenge or anything like that. But there was no way you could be alright with it if they'd done you anything unforgivable.

Ben's lips curled up proudly and gladly at your reply. He was almost enjoying this small war because he was prepared to murder anyone who betrayed him, placed him in a fucking box, and indicated to destroy him. He was prepared to tear down Vought in every way. But the thing that most thrilled him was that you were prepared to do this with him as well, just like in the old days, as if you were still in a relationship. To Ben, it never altered.

Ben realized, as he glanced at your suit, how fond he was of the way you looked. Whatever was going on with you didn't matter now; you looked just as strong as him.

“And they will pay for it, I promise.” Ben said, “But I still don't want you to go there alone,” he added before you could say anything more. You were conscious of the risks. “If you are exposed to that damned gas again...” Ben went on and then inhaled deeply. Your body stiffened at the mention of the gas; you would never forget or be able to forgive all the torment you had to endure.

You said, “Would you save me again?” That was a surprising thing to ask, but you had to know. “If something goes wrong.”

Ben said straight away, “Of course I would,” in an authoritative and clear manner. “I'd blow up the entire fucking tower up on their dead bodies in a second.”

You eagerly questioned, “Do you swear?” not knowing if you would believe him or not, but wanted to hear it from him none the less.

“I fucking swear,” said Ben. His fingers were now hovering near your thigh. It was difficult for you to ignore his pooking hardness, but you tried, at least though your pussy had other ideas. You couldn't even identify the precise moment when the two of you grew close.

It was difficult to keep your hands apart as you let him touch your back and run his gloved fingers over your outfit. Because of the extreme stress, your body began craving things that it hadn't desired months before. There was simply too much tension that needed to be eased.

“Do you regret it?” Ben asked abruptly, leaving you perplexed.

“From wha-”you murmured, but you knew what he meant by the way he stared at you. “I never do anything that I might later regret, Ben. I mean, generally.”

Following the events in the automobile a few days prior, you had never spoken. In actuality, you were relieved that Ben never brought up the subject of your sexual interaction with him. He seemed to be understanding or patient, you could tell. In your own ways, you were both experiencing internal conflicts. You still didn't understand why, one night, he came in much too much and didn't become erect when you touched him. Your life is full of many issues that needed to be resolved at first.

He said, “Understandable,” in a calm voice. “All I have to tell you is that I will always be wanting you. You never think otherwise.”

You were briefly left speechless by it. He didn't wait for a response, and you had nothing to say.

Ben's lips drew closer to yours, his hands tighter around your abdomen as he gauged your response. Your hands grabbed his neck and drew him closer as his lips captured yours with lust and need. Your heart was racing as his gloved hands pressed your body onto his firm cock. With your tongues meeting as though you had been waiting for this moment for a very long time, you parted your lips to let him in.

Like his body, yours required release and some level of relaxation. It was just too stressful. For you both.

You moved yourself closer to Ben as he continued his desperate kisses, pushing him to go all the way and take control. As soon as he got the message, he quickly had you lie on the bed behind you while lifting your body up and continuing the kiss. Your legs were completely visible to him since the skirt of your suit was already too short.

After giving you a few gentle bites, Ben eventually pulled back to savor the moment. His hands gripped your ass cheeks and gave them a firm squeeze, causing you to moan with bliss.

He used to treat you really harshly because he knew you wouldn't break or whatever, but today, even though he wasn't holding back on his strength, he seemed strangely gentler. You got used to his aggressive and rough demeanor, so you were irritated to see him acting a little more cautiously now and wondered if it was only because you were not as strong as you had been.

You tried to express your wish for him to be rougher with you by tightening your legs around his hips and giving him more forceful kisses in return, even if you didn't say so.

Ben was growling and pressing his hardness between your legs; his hands were gripping your underwear beneath your skirt, lowering it already, which was proof of his impatience.

When your clothing prevented him from reaching your tits, he tried to give them a firm squeeze without breaking the iron chest plate on them, and he made a dissatisfied moan. It was evident that he was struggling not to rip it off. He knew you enjoyed a lot when he played with your tits, but you didn't have much time to take it off.

You took a deep breath as Ben kissed every inch of your body where his lips could reach. You wanted to do it and get rid of all the worry and negative ideas in your body, even if you weren't entirely sure if it was the right thing to do at that particular time. For a little period, you wished to clear your mind. Ben must have had the same thought.

He indicated to you that he intended to suck you there before entering you by lowering your panties and then moving down lower on your body. But you stopped him.

You exclaimed, “No time for this,” and grabbed onto him with quivering hands in order to stop him.

He grumbled, “We have eno-“ and then attempted to convince you. Once more, you stopped him.

You snapped, “No,” and put your fingers on his trousers, beginning to unzip him.

“Impatient?” Ben murmured as he saw that you were eager about freeing his hard cock while you worked nervously on his pants.

His lips once again captured yours, preventing you from speaking, and he helped you. Ben made another move to remove his chest plate so he could be more comfortable and intimate with you as he lowered his pants just enough to free his cock. But you stopped him once more. After all, that wasn't necessary.

It wasn't that throughout previous sexual interactions, you were always naked. On the contrary, Ben rarely ever takes off his suit when he takes you since you always want to avoid getting caught. He was usually tough and quick in these situations.

You gasped when he took off his erection and felt its weight on your clit. Knowing what was coming up next had both of your hearts pounding like crazy.

With little time, you had to move quickly. You lifted your hips to indicate to Ben that you were ready, but he only gave you a short glance before giving you a gentler kiss that you weren't particularly fond of at the moment.

He began stroking his cock, stopped kissing you, and tried to swallow his own groans. Touching the star sign on his suit with your shaky hands, you placed them on his back while you waited under him. Ben checked your facial expressions very carefully to make sure you were completely okay with this, and he saw no hesitancy, which gave him a sense of ease. You simply waited under him, eager and needy.

“Ready?” he muttered. He parted your legs a little wider and pressed your body against the bed a little further. He did not take off your panties, even if they were a little of an obstacle. He was quite okay with taking you like this while you were still wearing it.

You merely nodded to him and said, “Yes.” It seemed like you were already leaking there. Already, you were clutching your walls like a cat in heat.

Ben stroked himself once more and muttered, “Look at me,” pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance. That's when you realized that you were holding your breath.

It felt as though you two were going to experience your first-ever sex, like you were two virgins. Wondering whether Ben thought the same thing.

With eagerness, your lips parted as you obeyed. Your hands traveled to his large arms and biceps, wanting to feel a little flesh too. You were shamefully wetter knowing that you could still bear his strength at the highest level, and the sensation of his strength beneath you was making you feel even more excited.

You nailed his arms through the cloth and couldn't contain your groan as he shoved the tip of his cock within you. Ben's tightened jaw showed that he was trying to contain himself from making a loud sound.

Ben could not help but breathe heavily this time as he continued to press in your tight hole, feeling as though you were dripping there.Your shaking legs weren't helping either.

Ben groaned and said, “Relax a little, baby,” but you were unable to stop clenching around his big cock and lost control over your pussy. You could feel his lips on yours.

You groaned, trying not to clench around him. “I'm trying.”

Ben could not wait any longer and, unable to contain himself, shoved his cock inside of you with one single push that you both moaned in your mouths. His mouth found your neck and began to give it bites there.

This time, stunned by your tightness, he couldn't help but groan when he pushed his all. Ben wasn't sure if he could control himself because of how tightly you clutched him. After all, he hadn't properly fucked you in the past fucking forty years.

Sighing into your neck, “Fuck, I missed your tightness; I missed this so fucking much,” he waited inside of you to feel every part of you and enjoy the moment. But you were moaning underneath him to continue. You needed that release so much it was killing you.

“Don't stop,” you said, impatient for him to get moving. Your heart was on the verge of bursting.

Ben's hands tightened around your hips, his head buried in your neck. Just the way you wanted, he drew his cock back and gave it a really hard shove inside again. He groaned, and you moaned loudly at that action. You were so desperate to feel some flesh that you lowered the cloth around his neck and gave him the same hard bites and licks that caused you to tremble in ecstasy as your hands stroked his arms and shoulders through the fabric.

Ben waited, feeling your wonderful, soaked tightness around him. It was difficult to resist shoving his cock quickly and roughly inside of you. He wanted to relish this moment, look into your face, and observe every expression you made to remind himself how much he missed you in every way—after all, it had been decades. But he'd do everything you asked, and you were being desperate. Nor did you have any fucking time.

Ben repeatedly thrust his cock in you with strong motions as you pushed him to act quicker. His hands squeezed hard on your hips, listening to your little groans and watching as you bit your lips in joy. He started to fuck you harder and quicker.

It was not an excellent sign when he felt himself coming closer because of the incredible and tight way you clasped around him.

“Ben!” you cried out, sensing that you were almost there. Your hands were trembling with pleasure and excitement as they rested on his shoulders. All you needed was a little bit more. All you needed was for him to give you a few more hard strokes while fucking you.

Ben forced himself not to come first until he made sure you came first as he fucked you hard and deep, causing the bed to shake beneath you. He could feel you tighten around him. It was fortunate that he could hear you become more loud since no one else was in the home.

Yet it wasn't helping at all. The little sounds you were making, the way you held him close, and the way your cheeks flushed with pleasure... He was getting too close.

Ben was doing his hardest not to cry out, but he was unable to control himself when you begged him, “Ben, please,” like a whimper, and your fingers tugged his hair a little too hard.

Your eyes opened wide in shock as he gave you one last stroke, and he thrust all of his length into your pussy, filling you up with his thick white ropes between swearing and a loud growl. You waited for him to empty his balls in your pussy as your hands loosened over his biceps.

He was filling you before he had even completed ten strokes. The way his body was shaking on top of you as he spilled himself in you made your eyes wide in shock.

Ben was breathing heavily on your skin and grumbling softly on your neck. Your hands found his back and caressed the star emblem on his suit, and all you could do was wait for him to finish.

To your amazement, he moaned, “Fuck, sorry,” into your neck as he kept filling you up. His voice was shaking. You were perplexed by his response since it sounded regretful. The closer he got, the more tightly he gripped your hips as though you may break free at any second.

He had previously refused to allow you to finish. You didn't know why it was important right now.

You simply said, “It's okay,” not sure how you should respond. It felt awkward when you realized it was over already. You waited for Ben to finish since it was unclear what to do at this point and the air was thick.

Ben didn't feel any better coming inside you so quickly; he had just fucking entered you. Wearing the suit he's always admired, you were there, underneath him, ready for him to take what he'd needed and wanted and yearned for weeks, but he felt awful, and his pride had been broken again. Fuck, he thought to himself. He didn't know what was going on with him these days. His cock must have missed you way too much; he could even know it seemed.

For the first time in his life, he looked for anything to say—anything to at least soften the situation and cover up his wounded pride—but he had no idea how. Not being able to get hard was not as bad as it was. He may have failed because he didn't jerk off earlier. He didn't know a single fucking thing right now.

He only needed to make you come around his cock, but he had failed once more. In spite of your pleas, all he did was leave you feeling unsatisfied. He was unable to contain himself for even five minutes. Ben's constant confidence began to fade from him.

Ben was still breathing heavily on your neck, and he tried to speak, but nothing came out. He never liked to feel powerless, but as you were waiting for him to draw his softening cock back, he did feel powerless. Although he felt physically satisfied, this didn't make him feel any better; instead, it made him feel even more annoyed, stressed, and unsatisfied.

You finally had the guts to make the first move, and your hands left his back. You put one hand to your underwear and attempted to lift it, giving him a message to pull back so that you could break the tension and be ready to go. As you waited for Ben to realize what was going on and withdraw his cock from your pussy, your face started to flush.

Ben took a big breath and cautiously and gently removed his cock from you when he got the cue. You wanted that release badly, but there was nothing you could do. Your walls tightened with expectation once more. Perhaps at a later day.

Ben was staring at your chest as you adjusted your underwear, and he tucked himself back into his pants, trying to get your attention away from his intense stare. Ben was looking between your legs, where his thick come was dripping, before you pulled your panties back. He should have put his hot cum back in your pussy. His erection was screaming for him to be put back in you, so he could fuck you some more, but there was absolutely no time.

Ben said in a rough voice, nervous, “I couldn't hold it back,” and he zipped himself back, waiting on top of you and refusing to let go. Seeing your dissatisfied, confused, and reddened face was an unbearable source of pain. “I didn't do it...on purpose.”

You whispered, “It's okay,” in a trembling voice. Ben was still between your legs, and you wanted to straighten your skirt too. It was time to make the air softer. “It's not the first time.”

It looks like it didn't help any better, Ben stated, “No, it's not,” a firm voice said. You had no idea what he really meant. “I will fix this as soon as we get the job done.”

You wondered how much time you had left if you offered a second time. You had a total of thirty minutes, and now you must have around twenty minutes remaining. But you weren't sure if it was appropriate to offer it. Ben didn't seem to be interested in going inside you again tonight, so you waited for him to initiate it.

You licked your dry lips, whispered gently, “Okay,” and watched him eventually retreat.

Ben surprised you with a strong and soft kiss before helping you to stand up. He withdrew without allowing you to kiss him back. For a brief time, your gaze met. Whatever had occurred was unimportant because, let's face it, you weren't teenagers and it was simply sex. A quick one. You had done it right more than a hundred times with Ben. Actually, only with Ben.

You felt awkward knowing that Ben's seed was still inside of you, but you were too busy to take a quick shower. Ben finished fixing his own suit and hair and remarked, “Remember to be quick there and don't take any attention. You are a Supe after all, to frighten him well and make sure he shits in his trousers so he will share all he knows.”

It relieved you to see him bring up a different subject.

You complained, sounding irritated, saying, “I know what to do,” since Ben was giving you advice. “I wasn’t born yesterday.”

His, “Good girl,” were accompanied by a wink.

His gaze was now and then resting on your suit and again on your skirt. The look on his face hardened. “I didn't know that skirt was that short.”

“It has to be because of the washing machine.”

“I can see your lovely ass cheeks from here,” he scowled, making you turn a little around yourself.

You said, adjusting the skirt slightly, “Stop exaggerating.” You saw Ben was carefully glancing at your legs and skirt, so you changed the topic and asked, “What happens if Homelander doesn't come to you?” He wasn't pleased with how much skin you showed.

“He will. I'll make sure to explode good and nice.” He attempted to make a dirty joke, but he didn't smile at all. Instead, he caressed your arms to comfort you.

“But make sure you don't hurt anyone, Ben,” you firmly stated, placing your palm where the star emblem was on his belt. “I'm serious.”

“Of course not,” he said instantly, as if you had just uttered something ridiculous. He sounded puzzled.

Even though you knew he should exercise caution as well, you remained silent. Perhaps you just didn't want him to believe that you were also worried about him. Actually, all that worried you about his chest was the enormous and potentially lethal power it held. After all, he was still unable to find a means to control it.

“Do you think you can handle Homelander there?”

It seemed better to question him about his strength in order to provoke him.

“Are you really questioning my strength, sweetie?” He asked amused, trying to disguise the fact that your suspicious tone had hurt his pride. “I will tear that lab product apart, and you'll be watching on the TV.”

“If you say so,” you said, giving him a little smile.

Ben continued, “By the way,” clearing his throat and carefully placing his gun in your palm after removing it from his suit. “You take this. Since you are not carrying a pistol, it may be useful.”

You mumbled, “I'm a supe, Ben,” but you refused to return the gun to him. “Every part of my body is a gun itself.”

“Oh, yeah?” Ben chuckled and bit his lips sexily, “Don't even tell me.” You've tried to hide your embarrassment, so just roll your eyes at him.

“But thanks anyway,” you said as you tucked the firearm in your suit.

You both heard Butcher returning just as he was about to speak, so you knew it was time. You left the room before Ben got his shield from the corner. All you wanted was for today to be over already.

⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆

A/N: Comments and reblogs are very appreciated. Let me know what you think please <33

Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @xmariakx @spnfamily-j2 @suspicious-stain-in-spain @atomicsoulcollecto @yvonneeeeeeee @starryperson @mfnqueen1 @chaand-sitara @boywivlove @stilinskisthings @brynanna @delaynew @yoyoanaria @n-o-p-e-never @ghostslillady @deans-spinster-witch @demodemo909 @stoneyggirl2 @cheynovak @libby99hb @moneyburner @purplerosequartz @simpin4pixels @deebris @spideybv28 @mystic-mara @tranquilty @winchesterwild78 @jennifer0305 @ultraviolencexs @thecutestaaakawaii @justtnat @babythe67chevy @ashy-kit @ninii-winchester @anna6307 @startingstar @fallout-girl219

@certifiedhaters @hey-there0-0 @darkqueen1995 @jenn-777q @shadowghoul2525 @multifandomdiva

[jeonginsleftcheek]

The sun to me

Chapter I. The Seed. Part II.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x afab!reader

word count: 1.2k

chapter summary: a glimpse into the world of y/n, the florist and the dreamer.

warnings: tw for brief description of terminal illness and death of reader's mother

~ Masterlist for the series

~ next part

💐 Daffodil - rebirth and new beginnings.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Your alarm sounds off and you grunt, hand searching blindly for your phone to turn off the shrill sound.

"Shut up."- you mutter as it rings annoyingly and loudly next to your head before you crack one eye open and finally locate the culprit.

You manage to turn off the alarm, blinking a few times before your eyes travel to your window. Warm sunlight barely peeks through your curtains, casting a glow on your face, reflecting the sparkle in your eyes.

You turn your head away, it's too early to stare into so much light and you stretch your limbs, letting out a little noise of satisfaction.

It's going to be a slow morning at your flower shop, you know it because no one has birthdays, weddings, funerals or anniversaries today.

You know Barbara will probably arrive at 9:00 am sharp to buy a new bouquet for her cats even though they could care less but it makes her happy, and making people happy is what makes you happy.

You've always loved flowers, ever since you were a little child, your mother was always in her garden, her gentle hands careful with the stems, careful with the seed, always dirtied with the precious soil.

Always on her knees, working and working away around her flowers, that most of the time you were sure she loved them more than she loved you.

She taught you everything, the symbolism of every flower was etched in your mind, as you would lay your head on your pillow, she'd sit next to you and tell you stories about flowers before you'd drift off into dreamland.

You kept a little flower diary, complete with dried flowers from the garden and the ones you'd find outside, their symbolism written next to them with the most beautiful calligraphy your little hands could come up with.

As you grew taller, the collection of dried flowers grew bigger, your mother grew older and fell sick, too weak to spend time working her life away in her garden.

The flowers withered and so did she, there was nothing you could do as you watched her being lowered into the soil she loved so much, a flower bed made just for her frail body to decompose under.

You didn't cry that day, not even the next day or that week.

You cried when you stepped into the garden, seeing half of the flowers she so carefully nurtured withering away. You were mad, mad at her for leaving you, mad at the universe taking her away from you.

You were mad at the stupid flowers for getting so much of her attention and love.

But you knew nothing else except them, wanting to honor your mother's existence, you got on your knees and worked away in your garden, your hands gentle with the stems, careful with the seed, dirtied with the precious soil stained with your tears.

You opened up a flower shop on the island, the first and only one, making it also a great investement as it became your livelihood.

The flowers were all you knew, but in a way, you felt like they knew you too. Like they spoke to you with some intricate secret language that only you understood.

The bell on the door chimes just as you were spraying your yellow roses with water, humming along to the music playing lightly in the background, lost in thought.

"Good morning, y/n!"- Barbara chirps happily as she walked into your flower shop, 9 am sharp as she always does.

She smiles brightly, her red dress flowing around her chubby frame, patterned with sunflowers, the symbolism of happiness.

That's what she always was to you and everyone else, at least on the outside. Always smiling, her eyes big and sparkly as she talked about all seven of her cats.

Today, it's Muffin's turn, cat number five, he made a mess in her kitchen today, knocking over one of Barbara's potted plants. She even had pictures to show you as proof. You chuckle along as she shows the video of said cat, staring at her like there was nothing wrong, after completely messing up her marble counter.

She asks for a new bouquet, this time it's orange and purple zinnias, of course on your recommendation since you took the time to always do research, even when it comes to flowers that might be poisonous to pets.

Your hands are careful and gentle as you arrange the zinnias together, as Barbara keeps talking your ear off.

"Oh, did you hear?"- the tone of her voice shifts suddenly, becoming eager and suggestive.

Here comes the gossip part, Barbara knows everyone's business on this island, and she butts into it but no one holds it against her, knowing that for a 50 year old woman with seven cats, she's probably just a lonely soul.

"Hear what?"- you ask absentmindedly, grabbing some orange paper to wrap the flowers with it.

"Apparently some celebrity is coming to stay on the island."- she says as if that's somehow gonna save her from her loneliness.

"Oh yeah?"- you feign interest, celebrity culture was not something you cared about, you always thought all of that bling and flashes of the camera were a fake world, set up by soul-sucking people who only exist to make money.

In the eye of the public, celebrities were just puppets on strings, but any other time they were just normal human beings like everyone else.

"Yes, I don't know who it is yet, but oh, I hope it's some handsome actor!"- Barbara swoons and you chuckle, reaching the polished bouquet to her.

"I'm sure you'll find out soon."- you say as she gives you a 10, a special discount for her since she's a regular, but she always adds a few more coins.

"Oh, I'll let you know when I do."- she winks, thanking you before she leaves the shop.

You could care less about some stuck up celebrity.

Right now what needs your attention is your yellow roses so you concentrate on that, tossing out thoughts of Barbara, her cats and the mysterious celebrity.

The wind. It can be a gentle breeze, caressing your skin like a tender lover that brings comfort to your soul, it can be refreshing as it cools you down on a hot summer night, bringing some air into your parched lungs or it can be cold, cold as ice that prickles on your skin, like frostbite, chilling you deep to your very bones.

But in this case, the wind blowing through Hyunjin's hair, as he leans his hands on the railing of the ship, feels like pure and unaldulterated freedom.

The smell of the salty sea fills up his nostrils, the sunlight kisses his cheeks, he listens to the sound of the waves crashing against the hull of the ship like a passionate lover and Hyunjin wants to laugh like a maniac.

No Charlie anywhere in sight, no crooked faces, no baggies of white, no green dollar bills, no beautiful models, no emptiness.

It feels like a new beginning, a rebirth for him.

He has no plans, no deadlines, no itineraries, no maps, nothing but one suitcase and his will to recover.

Recover from the ugly cycle he threw himself in, from all the things that poison his brain, his body and his heart.

As he finally sets foot on land, dragging his suitcase behind him, he no longer feels like Hwang Hyunjin, the artist. Hwang Hyunjin, the celebrity. Hwang Hyunjin, the empty shell of a person.

He feels like someone else, someone he can't wait to discover.

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @laughatdanger @lixies-favorite-cookie @linavc @quokkacidal @thisaintredwine @m00gyu @yaorzu-blog @skzfelixlove @tajannah-price1 @puccaaak @aft2rsexs @xxkissesforchanniexx @aprilmaejune77 @lilmeowneow @stayjinnie @astrobebba @danihwang882 @kaysungshine @nchhuhi @1810cl @chartrucewhore @babigriin @jisuperboard @alisonyus

[blooodsuckkr]

can't run forever

summary: Ghost chases you through the forest. that's it.

tags: Smut, dom!ghost, use of pet names; love, darling, bunny. outdoors sex, unprotected sex, reader gets spanked like once, gn!reader. (i think that's everything!)

word count: 1.3k (it felt like sm more)

a.n: i felt so giddy writing this, this is only partially proofread

Your lungs burned and your legs ached, threatening to collapse under you at any given moment. yet the adrenaline kept you going. He was hot on your trail, the sound of his footsteps hitting the floor behind you was a taunt, a reminder of his speed and power.

he was trained for this, made for it even.

but so were you.

every second filled you with more determination, his earlier words serving as a motivation, for what? you weren't quite sure.

"you run... and if i catch you? well, you'll just have to find out, love."

You knew by his voice, by the whole situation what being caught would entail. The anticipation rested heavy in your stomach. Part of you wanted to get caught. The other part? Desperate to make him work for it.

or maybe just to prove you were better.

It's no secret you both had a competitive streak, silent, yet very much there. During training there was always a tension, who could get more shots? who could go the longest with out tapping out?

Silly little competitions that served as a motivation. fuelling the determination that ran through both of you. That's why you refused to let him win so easily now.

Yet you both knew he would win in the end. There wasn't a single doubt about it, his voice rang past the trees, you weren't able to determine an exact direction due to your constant running. somewhere south-west of you, you presume.

"c'mon darling. we both know you can't run forever." His voice trailed into a chuckle at the end. He was right, you knew it wouldn't be long now from the way your legs shook on each long stride.

each rustle of leaves and snapped twig under your feet always letting him know your location. Earlier it was the same for him, except now you were the only one making sound.

That was more intimidating than the heavy footsteps you swore you could hear just moments ago.

"shit-" You gasp, trying to turn your head to glance behind you, your eyes darting everywhere for even a sign of his whereabouts.

big mistake.

See, if you had just kept looking forward.. you would have seen him slip behind that tree. you would have been able to change directions and bolt away from him. You just had to look away, didn't you?

Just as you assume you've made some distance you feel the unmistakable sensation of his arm wrapping around the front of you, pulling you into his chest and flipping you both so your front is pressed against the tree.

He chuckles darkly, it's over. Theres no way to escape him as he presses up further behind you. Your squirming and desperate attempts to get away only making him push you harder into the rough surface of the tree.

"awe, my little bunny got caught?" He laughs again, the sound of him panting directly next to your ear. You're panting too, much more than he is. A reminder of his stamina, he could have kept going for hours if he needed. You on the other hand were basically at your limit.

"Ghost-" You try to speak but he shushes you, a hand in between your shoulder blades pushing your chest and face further, leaving you minimal room for movement.

"told ya'. You can't run forever, darling." He clicks his tongue, lips pressed against the shell of your ear. one of his feet push in between your legs, widening your stance.

With one hand still holding you firmly in place by the back of your neck, his other lifts his mask above his nose. Then it runs down your side to your hip, grabbing at the flesh firmly and tugging your hips back onto his erection. A groan reverberating in the back of his throat.

"now look what you've got yourself into..." He teases, his voice hoarse and filled with desire. His head dipping to nip at the skin of your neck, earning a whimper from you.

You can feel him smirk against your skin, he can practically smell your desperation, you push your hips back into him only to be met with a sharp slap to your ass.

"That's not how this works, bunny." He practically growls, his hand snaking round to your lower stomach, pressing down momentarily before dipping beneath your waistband.

"Look at you, makin' a mess already. v'not even touched you" He bites down on your neck, his hand working you up expertly, making you writhe and moan as he's done so many times before.

He works you up to the edge just to pull his hand away when you begin pleading, your hips buck for the friction that was so cruelly taken from you.

"not yet, love."

"not until i've had my fun"

He pushes your trousers down, leaving you bare to the cold air surrounding you. The sound of his belt and zipper seem to echo, the hand on the back of your neck pulling your head back.

He brings his other hand in front of your face, "Spit." His tone sends a shiver down your spine as you comply. Letting him use your saliva to lube his cock. His hand pushing your chest back into the tree,

you instinctively push your hips back, always so ready and eager for him. He fills you up in one sharp thrust, his grunt drowning out your moan.

He sets a ruthless pace, bullying his cock into your hole over and over, even as your legs shake and begin to buckle, his arm wraps around your stomach, holding you up at the angle he knows drives you both wild.

As you clench around him and your moans grow louder he chuckles again, shaking his head as he stops thrusting all together. snatching your release away from you again

you whine his name, he growls yours back.

"Not yet." His voice is low, filled with a dominance that always has you whimpering in response to.

"you don't cum until i tell you, got it?" He punctuates his words with a deep thrust, making you nod desperately. He hums approvingly. returning to his rough pace, the tip of his cock hitting the right spot repetitively, making your head spin.

His hand moves from your stomach down to your sex, providing you with more stimulation that has you begging for him to go easy, knowing you can hold back your orgasm much longer.

He only growls in return, biting down on your shoulder as a warning. The way he's fucking you could be described as purely self-serving. but his hand working you up proves otherwise.

as he chases his own climax he still gives you no permission for your own, but you just can't hold on any longer.

You whimper out his name as you cum, clenching down on him as your body tenses. He doesn't take much longer after that, pushing his cock as deep inside you as he can, filling you up.

You're both still panting heavily, his hand easing up on the back of your neck. He takes a minute to pull out of you, using his fingers to push his spend back inside of you.

He lifts his fingers to your mouth, which you welcome happily, licking the mix of your juices off with a moan.

He takes care pulling your trousers back up, the gently actions almost making him seem like a completely different person to just moments ago.

he spins you around, crashing his lips to yours for the first time since you started running. Biting your bottom lip as he pulls away.

"Don't think you're getting away with disobeying orders. I'll teach you your lesson later"

[mirrrorballs]

stars around my scars.

pairing / peter parker!spiderman!josh hutcherson x gn!reader

genre / hurt/comfort, fluff! slight angst (?) established relationship <3 heavily inspired by a scene from tasm!

warnings / mentions of injuries, mentions of physical brawls/fights, slightly flirty/suggestive peter, i think that's it..

synopsis / after a long and exhausting day that left your head pounding, all you wanted to do was rest. however, stress and agitation ensues when a certain spider boy shows up at your window in the middle of the night with cuts and bruises on his face paired with his blood stained suit.

author's note / josh hutcherson is like stuck in my mind 80% of the time lately and i freaked when i saw his audition for the amazing spiderman! thought this would be a cute thing to write after my friend and i gushed over it hehe. obviously written with josh's (somewhere in the multiverse) peter/spidey in mind, but can be read with any other peter in mind as well. oh, and this is very heavily inspired by andrew's spiderman (if you know, you know!).

You were exhausted.

Actually, exhausted was probably an understatement.

Your day started off extra early due to the construction going on next to your house leaving you absolutely restless.

Your brain was buzzing and filled to the brim with everything and anything. School, Peter, your internship, tests and exams, Peter, the news spreading around about villains terrorizing Queens, your errands for the day, your secret-keeping boyfriend.

As if you didn't have enough things to worry about, Peter Parker just had to be added to that list.

You knew the boy well. Well enough to know when he was keeping secrets.

There was something to him, lately. Something different. He looked pretty agitated from time to time, like his surroundings were being heightened by his senses or whatever. There was more, but for the most part, he kept his distance from you.

Needless to say, after the tiring and busy day you had, all you needed was his comfort, his sweet nothings, his touch. But that boy just seemed to go out of his way to avoid you. Your gaze, your close proximity, your everything.

With everything that racked your thoughts and with everything that you needed to do and accomplish, all you wanted to do was rest.

However, just as you were about to doze off, you heard a loud thump by the iron stairs next to your window.

You immediately jolted awake, turning your lamp on and taking pepper spray (from Peter, for your apparent safety) with you as you cautiously approached the window, silently wishing it was just something that fell rather than a burglar.

As you pushed the curtains away from your windows rather quickly, a confused look etched your features when you saw that spider-man from the news about to knock on your window.

His head immediately perked up when he saw you.

"Can I come in?" his voice was muffled through his mask and the glass window.

"Excuse me?" you asked, the unsaid I don't even know you evident and loud from your tone.

He quickly looked around as if to see if anyone was watching, and when the coast seemed to be clear, he took off his mask.

You immediately recognized the boy in front of you to be your boyfriend. Except his face was littered with cuts, bruises, and blood stains that seemed to blend in with his suit almost perfectly. Your face fell at the sight of this and you immediately opened the window.

He climbed in swiftly with one hand clutching onto what seemed to be an injury located in his torso. A look of worry covered your face as you gently motioned for him to sit on your bed before shutting the windows and pulling the curtains together.

You gripped onto the curtains of a moment longer to take a deep breath before turning around to face Peter, who had the nerve to stretch a smile on his face at you.

You sighed before opening a drawer for a first aid kit before making your way towards him.

Much to his dismay, you stopped a few steps away from him. His smile faltering slightly.

"What is- You're- You're that spider guy from the news." you said while waving your hand around as if to clearly address him before crossing your arms over your chest.

He straightened his posture before taking in a sharp breath.

"Yep," he said, popping the 'p' sound while looking down. He looked up and saw the look on your face that told him to go on. "I was bitten by this radioactive spider, during the trip to the laboratory. All this- well- this kind of just happened afterwards."

You slightly frowned. "That long ago, huh" you said with a scoff disguised as a laugh as you opened the first aid kit in search of a disinfectant.

Peter sighed. "I wanted to tell you. So bad. But I was processing what had happened- and then the villains started appearing, I really didn't want them to target you to get to m-" you cut his rambling off by placing a finger over his mouth. "Pete, it's fine, don't worry. I get your situation now." you said with a small smile before you began to clean the wounds on his face.

He could tell by the look on your face that that wasn't all. Guilt overtook him when he recalled all the times he was told that you were searching for him at school, the missed phone calls, or when he would see you with a stressed look on your face as you roamed the halls while he couldn't find the guts to walk over to you and hold you in his arms.

But you were here now. Faces inches away from his as you tended to his injuries. He couldn't help but lean into your touch when you cupped his face to keep his head in place.

Now that you were here, he felt the guilt slip away. Gosh, was he selfish for you. He hadn't realized how badly he missed you.

You started to place bandaids over the cuts. "Who even did this to you?" you asked, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

"Just this group of robbers. Didn't seem like too much of a threat until they brought out these bats." he replied with a small wince.

You nodded in acknowledgement before moving a hand to the side of the torso he seemed to be clutching onto earlier. "Are you hurt here?" you said, same worried tone and expression still evident as you moved.

"No worries, no cut or anything there. Just a pretty large bruise, I think." he reassured, eyes chasing yours as you still eyed that area.

He smirked. "If you wanted my upper body exposed so bad, you could've just said so." he said as you rolled your eyes and pushed his chest jokingly to conceal the blush forming on your cheeks, the smile on your face a dead giveaway.

He pulled you flush to him with that stupid smile on his face until you were standing in between his legs and your chest close to his.

You admired his face for a while, pushing strands of his hair to the side as you combed your hand through the rest of his hair in the process.

When your eyes finally met his, Peter simply couldn't help himself anymore.

He pulled you closer into him by the back of your neck and gently placed his lips onto yours into a soft kiss. Your heart was beating erratically. You missed this so much. You missed him so much.

When you pulled away Peter immediately spoke up.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you away, I shouldn't have kept things from you. I just didn't want to risk losing you." your heart was acting funny again.

"Pete, it's okay, really. You're here now, your reason is valid. I'm just happy I have you back." you said genuinely.

He smiled, and a comfortable silence engulfed you both.

He could see your eyes droop ever-so-lightly. Shoot, he thought. You were probably about to sleep when he got there. Guilt overcame him again.

"If you're tired and need to sleep I can go." he immediately stood up and took a step back towards the window. Though, he really didn't want to leave.

You held onto his arm and shook your head. "Stay. You still have extra clothes here from the last time you slept over." you said with a lazy smile.

How could he say no to you?

And just like that, the string that pulled you two together tugged stronger. Weaving your paths and lives together in the process.

julia speaks. i got totally carried away and this got pretty long... i hope you liked it though! josh hutcherson holds my heart in his hands right now, I couldn't resist the urge to write him hehe. and as spider-man too! we were robbed of his spidey for real.

[oletus-writer]

Pyramid Head NSFW Alphabet

Warnings: nsfw

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

If he doesn’t straight up disappear, then you’re one of the lucky ones. After explaining the concept to him and why it is necessary, you might be graced with a few cuddles. The most consistent thing he would do is to cover you up with his smock if you fall asleep.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

Aside from the fact that he finds it rather foolish to have favourite parts of yourself, he rather likes his hands, how large and strong they are, how they can so easily kill and give pleasure to you. He likes your face, more specifically your eyes, as they hold the world to him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

His cum is thick and sticky, and he likes to cum either inside you (he doesn’t care about the clean-up, nor participates in it) or on your face, and see how your face scrunches up and how you wipe it off.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

While at first, he wanted to tear you from limb to limb and do all sorts of unspeakable things to your ravished body, he does not want to do so anymore. Not something to be kept a secret, but mind you, he has never experienced such thing.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

It’s hard to say, as he has had sex before, but has not had much experience in the ways that sex could give one pleasure. So, while he knows all the anatomy and is able to fuck for his own pleasure, you’ll have to teach him how to give you yours.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

He doesn’t really understand the more complex positions, and just prefers positions where he has good access to your hole, such as missionary, mating press, doggy style, etc. If he’s on the receiving end, he prefers any position where his helmet won’t get in the way.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

As he does not have the necessary parts to form functional sentences, he is unable to make jokes, although he doesn’t want to. He would not find any attempt to do so humorous. They’re more confusing to him.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes?)

There are no drapes to speak of, and he has very little hair, that he doesn’t groom at all. After all, why should he?

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? are they romantic?)

He does not know of intimate love, and does not understand why it is incorporated during sex. So no, he is not intimate nor romantic.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcannon)

There is a thin line between sexual pleasure and pleasure derived from inflicting pain, and Pyramid Head doesn’t care to tell the difference. When he’s horny, he might go and kill people, when he’s lusting for blood, he might go and jack off.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Into heavy sadomasochism, as well as having a blood kink, weapon kink, power play, etc. He’s into some kinky shit, and, while he won’t tell you, one could probably guess. Make sure to stand firm with your boundaries.

L = Location (favourite places to have sex)

He does not understand much of privacy, nor about the intimate act of sex and that it should be kept from prying eyes. The halls of Silent Hill do just fine, and so does anywhere else.

M = Motivation (what turns them on?)

A lot of things turn him on (as he embodies the more primitive part of the brain that contains sexual desires, among others), ranging from simple gestures such as adjusting clothing to absolutely nothing at all. He’ll be going on with his day and be suddenly hit with a wave of lust.

N = No (what turns them off?)

Everything is intriguing for him, except sharing. While he’s not the most possessive, as he knows you’re his, but he won’t condone sharing, even if it’s for sex.

O = Oral (do they prefer giving or receiving? how skilled are they?)

As this video so eloquently put it, Pyramid Head is more of an ideal than anything, a personification of id, and therefore, in my humble opinion, does not have a head. So, safe to say he cannot give proper oral, but will attempt it with whatever mouthparts he has. Still, he prefers to receive oral.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

He’s fast and rough, as he didn’t know sex could be a holy thing. Perhaps teach him the gentler side by fucking him and whispering praises, kissing his scars and telling him how much you love him, and he’ll get it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies)

Sure, he’ll do quickies, but most of the time they become full-blown sessions, as he doesn’t care if you’re late for something or if the two of you really shouldn’t be fucking right now.

R = Risk (are they experimental? do they take risks?)

He didn’t know if many different ways to enjoy sex, and is up to try anything, even if you’re hesitant. He takes risks, but it’s more because he doesn’t know it’s bad for you, or of the consequences.

S = Stamina (how long do they last?)

He can go on and on, and doesn’t really get sick of having sex too quickly. He’ll play with you for about two days straight and then get bored, and move on with his duties.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them?)

He does not own toys - he does not know what they are - but he would be lying if he said he never used another object to penetrate himself.

U = Unfair (how much do they like to tease?)

He enjoys teasing, prolonging your suffering for his own pleasure. He might forget to reward you for your patience, or get lost in your torture to even bother. If you tease him, he’ll be a whiny mess, so expect payback.

V = Volume (how loud are they?)

As he does not have a head, he too does not have complex vocal cords to speak - no dirty talk, just dirty thoughts. He will be somewhat vocal, with grunts and other strange noises, and they’re rather loud, but not too often.

W = Wild card (a random headcannon for the character)

He generally doesn’t understand concepts such as sexuality and gender, so you’ll have to explain to him if you want to hide the relationship for whatever reason. He’s not as possessive as one might think, as he knows you’re his, and is perfectly capable to punish you if you ever are unfaithful.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

Huge cock for a huge man. He’s both a grower and a shower, with his penis being 11.6 inches (29.5 cm) when flaccid, and 12.1 inches (30.7 cm) when erect.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s pretty high, being as he embodies those parts of human nature. He’ll sometimes deal with it himself, but usually finds someone to do such favour for him, whether that be you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Roaming the halls of Silent Hill, he did not need sleep, and he does not now, no matter the intensity of the session.

[vrmxlho]

hii kira !! do u have any hcs for sae abt how he would be as a bf?

SAE ITOSHI 糸師冴

if sae were a love trope he would 100% be belated love epiphany

"i never realised how much i loved them until they were gone." type beat yk

like pride and prejudice, except he's elizabeth and you're darcy ??

where you confess first and he rejects you but once you're not near him he realises that he really did love you

or when he saw how loaded you were, you be the judge (kidding)

y'all already know i think he's a good cook. like he was in spain for ages you bet he picked a few things up. cuz idk about spanish men but ik most italian men know how to cook and well.

he pours all his love into everything he makes, probably his love language honestly.

but he'd never let you know he's cooking for you because he cares

"you look like a ghost have you been eating properly?" "oh, no. unfortunately, i haven't found much time to cook lately..." "how bothersome. am i gonna have to take you all the way to the hospital when you faint from anemia?" "but i'm not even anemic..." "you will be if you don't eat your spinach." "..." "you know what. since you're so incapable i'll just cook for you." "excuse me??"

forgive him, he's just a bit of a cunt, but he loves you i promise

(also if you didn't know fun fact: preparing a homemade meal for someone is akin to confessing your feelings to them)

he's not much for PDA in fact in public he has his same, stupid, emotionless, deadpan face that is so punchable (affectionately?)

but when you're at home he'll find any excuse to lean his whole bodyweight on you

he also loves leaning in to kiss you and then reaching behind you to grab something or whatever, just to leave you flushed and stressed the fuck out

annoying asshole

he also gets very touchy when tired, if you're sleeping next to each other he tends to end up hugging you close to his heart by the time you wake up

he may not seem it but he would genuinely do anything for you

he tends to ignore most messages/texts/emails unless they're super important but he'd reply to you the second you text him

or even if it's a silly tweet

@you: there are 2 many ppl at this café 😞 @officialsaeitoshi: send me your location i got you your usual @you: ayo, how did you have it prepared n everything 😭 @officialsaeitoshi: spidey senses

he also has the most deadpan, sarcastic humour known to man

he's horrible (just my type)

nothing that comes out of his mouth is to be trusted

beware!!!

he is the no.1 gossiper alive, he knows everything about everyone's business even if he looks like the type of person who'd never think of anyone other than himself

somehow he's both at the same time

he could go hours talking about this random guy in his club who's actually the secret son of a drug lord and who ran away from home to save himself from imminent death...

what???? how does he know this?

i'm pretty sure he doesn't know either, anyway

he loves his lil self care night routines

you both sitting on the sofa talking about life (actually it's just him talking and you listening but whatever)

sae itoshi was an evening person. not because he felt most productive then. and not because he enjoyed the peace and quiet of the city. but because he enjoyed his night routines with you right next to him every second. you'd sit on the sink sill as he gently passed a finger with clay on it over your face as you kept talking about your day. "and then when i went to get coffee there were just so many people at the café it was such a hassle. this guy–" "shush. do you want clay in your mouth?" he kept swiping the remaining clay mask on your now stationary chin. once done he lifted you and walked to the sofa. this was no new routine. this was the only way he was able to unwind. with you next to him, just talking about the little, almost meaningless things. "i read somewhere that your coach is having an affair is that true?" you didn't know why you kept instigating him. it was late and you knew if he began talking now he'd only finish once the sun rose or your wake up alarm rang. but seeing him so animated was a rarity so you had to take advantage anytime you could.

now for how he confessed

at first when you confessed he rejected you and didn't think much of it at all

until he started noticing the little things about you, he started obsessing with every bit of you

how you looked, how you dress, how you style your hair

but also how your under eyes crease when you smile

how you're very picky with your food, especially dessert, but you'd eat anything if someone handmade it for you

how you're so patient when you tutor even if the person is being a dumbfuck

after obsessing over everything you did for about a day or two he was sick of the weird, nauseating feeling in his stomach

it had been about three days since the confession. being rejected right on the spot, especially in that cold manner was painful to say the least. but you were sure you had gotten over it. and you hoped with all your heart that he too had forgotten. he had just stood there as you finished telling him how he made you feel and how you had liked him for a while now. he had a horrible scowl on his face, arms crossed and an uninterested posture. you already knew what the answer was when you were done but it hurt so much more when he finally confirmed it all. so it was surprising when you saw sae march up to you as you ate your lunch with your friends. he had the same horrible scowl on his face from before. and you could feel your stomach drop as he pulled your wrist in a gruff manner. careless. he didn't care for you. "itoshi what are you–" he finally stopped once you were in a quiet corner behind the main building, away from curious eyes. "we need to talk." "about what?" "i couldn't sleep." "ok..?" "i couldn't stop thinking about you." "oh. i'm sorry if my confession made you uncomfortable. i didn't mean for it to bother you so much." "yes. it's so bothersome. now every time i see you with anyone but me, it hurts. i can't stand hearing about anyone but me, from you. i don't want you to think of anyone but me."

and then you were just like 😧🫣😏🤩

if you think rin's dramatic just WAIT until you talk to sae he's insane

THE BIGGEST drama queen (i hate him)

although i do think he is secure about himself and knows you wouldn't ever hurt him

i feel like he does have abandonment issues (a bit)

like imagine going through your teen years without family in a foreign country, you'd feel isolated no matter how many friends you made or how nice your host family was

he tries not giving any external reaction so you barely notice at first but every time he sees you with someone, looking a bit too friendly, he always feels his heart tighten

he's very gentle when kissing you

it's not like he's super strong or anything (mans is tiny)

and it's not that he's scared to hurt you, he just doesn't wanna appear too possessive or anything

favourite places to kiss you: why do i wanna say your waist, also knuckles

no idea why i just feel like if he weren't allowed to kiss your lips for any reason he would kiss there

but he definitely needed you to initiate the physical contact when you first started dating

speaking of which

dates with sae

100% movie nights, or just staying at home in general

mans hates going out if it's unnecessary

although, if you want anything he'd do it for you in an instant

or when he's feeling extra energetic

he'll take you dancing; this can either be ballroom dancing (which makes you cringe a bit but it's fun), salsa or literally just clubbing

i think he secretly loves clubbing at techno clubs (is that what they're called?) he hates commercial music cuz it just gets so repetitive

ideal vacation destination: somewhere isolated

like a random island in greece

or some forest in south america

idk man

he absolutely hates tourist destinations, tourists are his no.1 worst enemy

that's why you always end up going on holiday at random times of the year

"hey love, take a few days off next week. we're going to bora–bora." "it's the middle of march..." "not in bora–bora." "that's not how it works..." "i've already bought the tickets and spoken to your boss so you really just have to start packing."

now about pet names

he generally doesn't like them and thinks they're cringe and annoying

which they can be if used excessively ig

he tends to call you by a nickname or just your name

he only uses pet names when he wants something or has something to tell you that he knows you'll be angry/annoyed about

like the fact he planned a whole trip to bora–bora in middle of march and didn't tell you a thing 😞

however, if you're open about how much you hate him doing things without involving you he will change his ways

he's a quick learner after all ❤️‍🔥

[fanfic-recs-01]

Daminette Fic Recs

So it looks like my posts are getting too big for Tumblr lol

I'll now be separating them a bit more and will have to make multiple parts for each post.

Link to Part 2

Updated 11/2/24

Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Damian Wayne

She’s Sunshine, She’s Grace, She’ll Punch You in the Face by Brinxiethebear *Finished*

~Marinette struggles to stay happy nowadays but what better way to change your mood than with a change of location? Adrien gave up his miraculous so he could start fresh. After all, his dad was in prison for being the super villain Hawkmoth and his other caretaker Nathalie died from over use of a broken Miraculous. So now Marinette is the guardian of the miraculous. ~

for us to collide by LadyLiterature *Finished*

~The story of Marinette stumbling upon the illustrious Wayne family over and over again, as well as the more infamous Bats, over the course of her many visits to Gotham. She, of course, charms the whole lot of them and finds that the same is true in the reverse.~

A Robin and His Lady by ProudGeek4Ever *Finished*

~Marinette lost her friends to Lila, Adrien was long forgotten and Chat Noir kept getting more irresponsible. Being a teenage superhero was stressfull, but Marinette's life takes a turn for the better when a chance meeting in Gotham changes everything. Damian changes everything.~

No, Mr. Wayne, You Can't Adopt Me! by ggomoz (ggomo_springtime) *Finished*

~Bruce's personal assistant is scarily competent---she seems to know the best decision at each time, predict emergencies, and is an expert at handling all of his children. But what if there's more to her than meets the eye?~

More Than One Secret by Tyshian  *Finished*

~Marinette Dupain-Cheng has Secrets. Damian Wayne has Secrets. The pair together have Secrets.~

Reunions are... interesting if you’re a Todd by crazyjc *Finished*

~Alright, this is based on laraceleste's Tell Me More where Jason Todd is Marinette’s big brother with one exception—Marinette didn’t know where Jason was after she was adopted until after he died when she was ten. They were apart for three years here, as GCPD got her at 7.~

It's Just Indifference by dontyoublink *Finished*

~Marinette thought she would just get some inspiration for her designs when she headed to the park. As luck would have it, she also meets four (interesting? unique? slightly insane?) Americans. Frisbee, ice cream, and much-needed conversations ensue.~

World's Greatest Detectives, My Ass by Appleberry84 *Finished*

~Marinette figures out the Batfam's identities and decides to torture them.~

Leave it Behind by ShannonEsmerelda *Finished*

~Marinette Dupain-Cheng has grown tired of Paris, and the miracle box was no longer safe there. It'd been active in the country for too long, seen too much damage. She needed to find a place for both her and the kwami's to heal, while still having the ability to be a hero. So, why not Gotham? The city had enough crime for both her and the bat family without getting in each others way, right? Right?~

Report to HR by SimplyAnotherWriter  *Finished*

~Look; Bruce liked Marinette. If the girl hadn’t already had loving and adoring parents that had spotless records and nothing incriminating about them whatsoever(Bruce had checked long and hard), he probably would have adopted the girl just like he had the others.

However, things wouldn't remain this perfect if Damian continued to try and mess it up by SCARING the poor girl!~

The Sun Who Lit Up The Night Sky by FandomQueen10325, leaping_lizard_babe *Finished*

~4 months after the defeat of Hawkmoth, the akuma class wins a trip to Gotham. While they are there, Marinette keeps attracting bad luck, and can never seem to stay out of trouble. The Batfam is very interested when they learn about what had happened in Paris, so they question ladybug.~

Travels of Passion by StarShine583 *Finished*

~When people as famous as the Waynes come to visit your city, the most you'd expect to get from them is a quick little smile. A hand shake if you're in the right place at the right time and extremely lucky. Marinette didn't really expect to get either, and she certainly didn't expect to get what she actually got.~

Of Birds and Bugs (revising and rewriting) by orphan_account *Finished*

~Marinette was a busy girl. Between her idol work as NeTi, and her duty as Ladybug, it was hard to do everything else, like being a good class president. Still, she was able to pull through.

Somehow, the class get's a trip to Gotham, sponsored by Bruce Wayne himself, and it looked like Marinette would be able to take a break for once.~

Dinner at Wayne Manor by littlefleetinglight *Finished*

~In the front hall standing in a line was Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim and Damien; in that orders, with Alfred standing in front of them like an officer in front of his troops.

“Now, when Ms.Marinette arrives there will be no inappropriate language, no crude gestures or noises, and there will be no interrogation. Do you gentlemen understand?”~

#SunshineOfGotham by sixtyeightdays *Finished*

~All of Gotham knows Marinette, the Sunshine who's made her way into everyone's hearts. But so what if all of Gotham knows Marinette? Does her class know that they know Marinette? Of course not, why would they! But, well, let's see how they find out.~

Rockin’ the House by littlefleetinglight *Finished*

~It was another charity gala held by the Wayne Family; this one was raising funds for art programs across the world, and because it was for art there were artists of all types from all over, including the famous Rock’n’Roll artist Jagged Stone…and his guest.~

To marry an Assassin by PL_Panda *Finished*

~Marinette wakes up in a cell and later is forced to marry a member of the League of Shadows, who is also less than willing. Exactly what she was pulled in? And of course there is magic involved, so no cancellation. And apparently in Tibet ancient orders can marry minors off just like that. This was definitely not Damian's day. Or Week. Or month. He got married with a random girl...~

Who Needs Words? by AKP31E *Finished*

~After the defeat of Hawkmoth and the retirement of Suhan, Marinette’s life is just getting crazier. She doesn’t know how a soulmate could ever fit into her life, and sometimes she thinks the two letters on her wrist are just the universe’s joke to her, but she knows better than to bank on it. Her soul mark isn’t even a word. Who is going to say “Tt” to her?~

History Repeats by DesertSnowQueen  *Finished*

~When Kitty Noire makes an appearance in Gotham, she finds herself drawn to a certain little bird whose brothers are far too entertained by this turn of events~

Magical Girl by Judysupremus

~Marinette accidentally portals into the batcave.~

The Power of Luck by FridayFirefly

~The Ladybug Miraculous had quite a few side effects, none more powerful and unpredictable than the power of Miraculous Luck. When Marinette's family relocates to Gotham, Marinette finds her Miraculous Luck leading her down a path she never would have expected, a path that leads straight to Damian Wayne.~

The events on a Saturday Morning by orphan_account *Finished*

~Marinette and Damian have been in a long distance relationship for over a year with (most) of the Batfamily not knowing at all until a young girl stumbles through a portal on a Saturday morning.~

Friendly Sunshine In Gotham by M1dn1ght_Star *Finished*

~Marinette is happy to be back in Gotham after a visit with Jagged several years ago. This might just end up being the perfect way to expose Lila once and for all, as a nice bonus to seeing her honorary family and boyfriend again.~

Daminette Soulmate AU by keeptellingyourselfthat *Finished*

~Tradition says that your soulmate will have another tattoo, something that relates to you. When they meet you, it is said that the tattoos start glowing a bright gold.~

Calling for Help by Dramatic_Squirrel  *Finished*

~It's been a month since the Battle of Miracle Queen and Marinette has been struggling alone under the pressure of being the new guardian. With her training yet to have been completed, Marinette makes her first official decision as the new guardian, to ask the Justice League for help.~

serendipity by keeptellingyourselfthat *Finished*

~The last time Damian AL-Ghul saw Marinette was when they were twelve. He didn't think he would see her again. So, it's a huge surprise when he stumbles upon her in WE while exposing the liar of the class from France.~

In The Wrong Bed? by San_fics  *Finished*

~“Like I said,” Jason yawned. “Eventually everyone in this family goes crazy.”

“I'm not crazy!” Damian protested. “She was here!”

“Maybe you just had a very realistic dream?” Dick suggested.

“I’m perfectly capable of distinguishing dreams from reality, thank you very much!” Snapped Damian. “She was real and she was in my bed!”~

Cat Cursed by TheStarfishAlien *Finished*

~The Cheng family carries a curse. Every other generation carries a second form, that of a cat. Their dual nature makes it difficult for those with the curse to fit in with society. Some flee permanently into the form of the cat, while others try their hardest to pretend that their cat form does not exist. Very few find a balance in the middle.~

Secrets, Masks and Family Gatherings by ggomoz (ggomo_springtime) *Finished*

~After nearly a year of being together, Damian finally decides to introduce Marinette to his family.~

living among the regular people of the world trying to blend in by another_cancer *Finished*

~Marinette was an assassin named ladybug that was supposed to kill Damian, but she didn't and now they meet again years later.~

New but True by yannowhatigiveup *Finished*

~Damian and Marinette are kidnapped from their lives to be betrothed to one another. Unfortunately, they were separated and missed the other greatly. Once realising that Marinette is in Gotham for a school trip, Jon, being the good friend he is, reunites them.~

Eons & Eternities by Utopian_angel *Finished*

~After dedicating many life cycles to an endless conflict between chaos and order, Ra's Al Ghul decides to use his last chance to form a union.

A union between their respective heirs that will last for eons & eternities.~

Use Your Brain by Judysupremus *Finished*

~Marinette and her class go to Gotham. What happens when she has to rescue Chat Noir from Batman?

The is silly, potentially crack.~

An Awkward Reveal by Miraculous_786 *Finished*

~Who can blame Edward Nygma for being protective over his adopted daughter?

The very daughter who was dating Damian Wayne right under his nose.~

The Bride that can Break Bones by LovesWifi *Finished*

~Marinette and Damian are betrothed and that's all you need to know.~

Senses by Alexiessan *Finished*

~Marinette never thought that she would be among the 0.1% of the population to have a soulmate, and yet, here she was.

She wasn't ready for her life to change drastically because of it.~

A Welcoming Change by Brinxiethebear *Finished*

~Damian Wayne always saw himself in a certain light. He was calculating and cold and he always took his work seriously. He was what others would call the Ice Prince. He was a loner and by choice. The only people he ever really tolerated talking to was his family and his only friend, Jon. Mainly he just spent time with his pets.~

Never alone by Alexiessan *Finished*

~For a moment, ever since Lila came into her life, Marinette thought she would lose everyone dear to her. Turns out, if she keeps trying, she can do anything and make everything turn out for the better.

Contrary to her belief, Marinette was never alone.~

#8024 by SimplyAnotherWriter *Finished*

~“Inmate #8024 of Gotham Asylum Institution. State your name.”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

How had she come to this, you might wonder? Well... It wasn't as long of a story as you would think.~

Summer in Gotham is a time for the Akuma Class to relax and oh wait are those assassins? by baby_blue24680 *Finished*

~After hearing a brief description of the class dynamic of the Akuma Class, Mayor Bourgeois all but blackmails Bruce Wayne into sponsoring a trip to Gotham for the summer semester, believing that it will lead to fewer akumas. Word travels to Talia al Ghul, who decides to give an old friend a visit and literally and figuratively throws an engagement at Marinette.~

Four times the Ladybug magic teleported Marinette to where she would be safest, and the one time she was already there by EditorOfEverything *Finished*

~This is part one in a five part series. I have never actually completed a fic before, so this is kind of my NaNoWriMo goal for myself, I guess... So, without further ado, here is four times the Ladybug magic teleported Marinette to where she would be safest, and the one time she was already there~

The Bug, the Bird and the Bats by whoscountinganyway *Finished*

~Everyone knows that Damian Wayne doesn't have any friends; he pushes away anyone who wants to get close to him, denies those close to him the knowledge that he cares, vehemently refuses to be in the presence of wanna-be suitors. He simply isn’t social.~

The Eyes are the Window to the Soul by Brinxiethebear *Finished*

~Have you heard the saying that the eyes are the window to the soul? In a world where soulmates are common, one might think that soulmate marks dealing with the eyes would mean something tremendous, and they would be right.~

In Which Damian Needs a Tutor and Marinette Needs a Job by kceedraws *Finished*

~It starts with an offhand comment on Tim’s birthday.

Damian blinks. “It looked like what?”

“Lit,” Richard repeats. “Isn’t that what you kids call it, with the music and dancing…?”

“I don’t follow. The video had rather dim lighting, if you asked me.”~

Freezing Fate by boldlyanxious *Finished*

~Like everyone, Marinette received her soulmate journal when she was ten. She was excited about all the possibilities it offered, but she never expected her soulmate to show up a few weeks later to take the journal away from her.~

Gotham For Two by multifandomscribette *Unfinished*

~Marinette Dupain-Cheng organized a spring field trip for her class but of course things didn't go as planned and she is still shunned by her class. Cut off from her formed support system and almost completely alone in the most crime ridden city in the world, Marinette meets Damian Wayne via his dog, Titus and she might not be so alone anymore.~

Lost And Found by FridayFirefly *Unfinished*

~The thing Marinette wants most in the world is a Soulmate. But no matter how much she tries to convince herself that her perfect match is out there, she still has her doubts. In a world where your Soulmate finds the things you lose, Marinette only ever seems to lose things. In eleven years, she's never found a single thing her Soulmate lost.

Until the day she does. That's when it all begins.~

The Paris Problem by newdog14 *Unfinished*

~Damian Wayne, one time assassin, present-day vigilante, and entirely uninterested in getting the normal teenage experience. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, part time superhero, full time guardian, and very much wishing for the days of being a normal girl again. They’ve been brought together by circumstance and common enemies, and they’ll never be ordinary, but together they might just find a new normal as they work together to solve The Paris Problem.~

Damian Wayne by deathsong *Finished*

~ the class goes on an exchange program to Gotham, and Lila decides to say she's dating the billionaire's son, Damian Wayne. Who is sitting like three seats away from her.~

[key201303]

Kim Woosung NSFW A-Z

Warnings: NSFW content, smut, +18 content.

A/N. I'm so in love with these four men 🥹

A - AFTERCARE.

Woosung can be the sweetest human being at the same time he can be the sassiest. I believe he would take the aftercare really seriously like any other interaction you have with each other because he believes in quality relationships more than anything else. Soft touches and butterfly kisses are something in his list of to do’s when it comes to an aftercare. And if he was a bit too rough he would definitely take good care of you afterwards while teasing you.

B - BODY PART.

This boy is so confident he literally loves everything about himself. Not like he was born that way, it was a lot of self work and your work of praising him which led to that but you really loved seeing him being confident about his body.

In you he just loved every single inch of your body. He always said he didn’t have the right to give an opinion about anybody’s body, even less if it was you who we talked about. You were just beautiful in his sight and that was more than enough.

C - CUM.

You could never know. He’s so random and loves to experience new stuff so he would just ask you if he can try a new spot every time you had sex so he could choose his favorite. But for now I believe his favorite place is either your chest or your stomach.

D - DIRTY SECRET.

He fantasizes a lot about you waking him up with a good morning sex session. It is just so hot to think about it and such a great way to start a day. He tried to let you know but even though he might look pretty brave and open to talk about this kind of stuff, he became quite shy about asking you to wake him up with a soft massage to his cock.

E - EXPERIENCE.

I believe that Woosung is the type of person who would only have sex with someone if he really had a connection with that someone. Like he wouldn’t just fuck whoever comes in his way. So according to this I believe he doesn’t have had many sexual partners but I do believe he has had plenty of quality sex sessions with them.

F - FAVORITE POSITION.

Any in which he can lay back and look at you do all the work (lazy king). I believe he would also love any position involving you both facing a mirror so you could perfectly see each other’s and your own pleasure expressions.

G - GOOFY.

I don’t see him as someone who would be very goofy during sex. I see him as a person who takes sex really seriously and wouldn’t really be into being goofy while doing it with you. But he would definitely tease you a damn lot.

H - HAIR.

Don’t ask me why but I believe he has it all clean down there. No reason at all.

I - INTIMACY.

He absolutely LOVES being intimate with you doesn’t matter when and where. As I mentioned before, he is really into having deep and meaningful relationships with people and you weren’t an exception. Everytime he has the chance to be intimate with you, he will always be.

J - JERK OFF.

Quite a lot when he’s on tour, the lack of your presence makes him even more needy. He would not do it alone tho. He would always call you or text you so you could help him a bit, especially when he felt stressed out about something.

K - KINKS.

Mirror sex: as I said, he would def love the image of you two being intimate getting reflected on a mirror. It’s just another level of pleasure that he gets when he can have access to seeing not only your facial reactions to what he does to you but also his own reactions whenever you touch him.

Orgasm denial: He’s the biggest teaser between the members of the band and also the most possessive so he would love to be in control of your orgasm and it would give him a boost of energy deciding when you can come undone for him or not.

Cigarettes after sex: Not sure if this is considered a kink but he would definitely love to light up a cigarette and share it with you as you both came down from your highs and kept kissing each other from time to time.

L - LOCATION.

Any place where he can lay down is a perfect spot to have sex with you.

M - MOTIVATION (TURN ON).

He would turn on just by feeling your touch or with a bit of dirty talk coming from you. It wasn’t something you usually did so he really enjoyed it when you did so or tried to tease him before he would start his own tease show.

N - NO NO (TURN OFF).

Definitely he wouldn’t like it if you suggested to have a threesome. He wants you for him and only him and only for him, sharing not being a possible option in a relationship with him.

O - ORAL.

He loves going down on you but when you go down on him oh the boy gets hella excited. Would love taking your hair out of your face so he can perfectly see your face as you suck him off and he would love it even more if you made eye contact with him from time to time.

P - PACE.

Slow. He loves thrusting into you slowly so you can feel every single inch of him. Also so you had to beg him to go faster and he could tease you a bit more.

Q - QUICKIES.

His favorites. It would just give him a boost of energy, especially if they were right before practice or a concert.

R - RISK.

Love the risk and would love to experience it with you. Doesn’t care about trying out some risky semi-public sex when the members are next door or something like that. He thinks it gives a thrilling and funny feeling to the situation.

S - STAMINA.

A damn lot. He could spend hours and hours having sex with you if that meant being home naked and laying down.

T - TOYS.

As I said before, he enjoys trying new stuff so he wouldn’t mind using some toys if that meant your sexual life would get better.

U - UNFAIR.

His passion and hobby is teasing you so yeah, he’s probably the most unfair member.

V - VOCAL.

Not a big fan of having conversations while sex but he really is into listening to your moans and praising so he can know if you’re enjoying what he’s doing or not.

W - WILD CARD.

Sex after tour. It’s the first time you two meet after months of being apart because of a tour. As soon as he sees you, he wouldn’t waste a second to smash his lips with yours and start a heated make out session that will always end up in something else if you know what I mean 😏

X - X-RAY.

I think he’s average but definitely knows how to give his length a good use.

Y - YEARNING.

Every time he spends more than 2 days without seeing you. He’s so fond of you and so addicted to your touch that he cannot be without you for more than 24h.

Z - ZZZ.

The boy is lazy so he wouldn’t take long to fall asleep after he finishes making sure he did everything he has on his imaginary to do list of aftercare.

[justrainandcoffee]

“Come on, baby, light my fire” (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc) Part 1

Story masterlist - Alfie x Rose masterlist

Summary: The first time he saw her was on TV in middle of a riot caused after the assumption of the new Prime Minister. Then, as if the fate was determined to force them to meet Alfie and Rose crossed paths more than once.

Warning: None. But if you support police, this fic isn't for you. ||Alternate universe. Fireman!AU || I'm perfectly aware that it's not THAT easy to set a kitchen on fire, but welcome to fiction. ||

Words: 2.3k

Try now we can only lose and our love become a funeral pyre, come on baby, light my fire come on baby, light my fire.

The Doors.

People think that the policy of "not romantic relationship between employees" that some workplaces have, can be considered medieval, old fashioned and oppressive. Because what can be better than work with the person you chose to love? Stolen glances, smiles across the room. Secret kisses behind the door. Perfect, until the couple breaks up. Then the harmonic paradise becomes in hell.

Quite accurate, thought Alfie looking at Thomas Shelby passing by in front of him. Tommy was still wearing the gear, except the helmet, after the last call they received. He avoided his gaze and kept walking. They still talked, they had to because it was necessary to communicate to operate effectively, but they didn't talk about what happened between them.

Alfie let out a grunt when he removed his heavy boots and also his jacket. There, with only his pants, socks and a white t-shirt, he leaned against the bench and let his back rest.

His dog approached him and rested his big head on his knees. Alfie caressed him behind the ears.

"How are you, buddy?"

Cyril was a puppy that someone, for some reason, abandoned in front of the headquarters two years and since then, two years later, he was the official pet of this fire department located in Camden Town. Although Cyril was never trained to be a rescue dog, he was an honorary member of the team.

The animal looked at him with his deep brown eyes and Alfie chuckled "come on, I'm going to give you a treat." His back wasn't happy to move again, but he was hungry too, so he needed to eat as well.

Some of his men were also there, resting and chatting. He cared about them, despite his reputation of being a grumpy man. Captain Solomons inspired fear in some of them, especially the younger ones and he was aware of it. He needed to keep the discipline and if being grumpy was the best way to do it, then fine. But not so deep down, he was a good man and his men trusted him.

Cyril was finally eating from his bowl and Alfie already microwaved his own food, something that he didn't like, but there in the headquarters the options were limited.

The TV was on, although almost none of them were paying attention to the news. Riots. Nothing new. Since the new Prime Minister assumed, those against the Tories went out to protest as it was usual.

Alfie kept looking at the TV screen. A group of rioters was painting the walls around 10 Dowing Street, while others were throwing rocks and everything they had in their hands to the police. Something similar was happening near the Parliament where a bigger group was setting on fire a mannequin representing the PM. He couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

A brown haired girl with a megaphone was congratulating the multitude that went there and asked to those watching or hearing from their houses, to join them and protest against 'the bleached fucker and the pigs.'

"Another one who thinks that can end with a government by causing disturbance" Alfie moved his head towards the voice in front of him.

"Well, Tommy, she's doing more for something she believes than you complaining here, chewing a mint gum."

"Just wait until we have to go there to extinguish the fire started by them."

"Your friends, the fucking cops, will take care of them, as usual, Tom. So don't worry. It's called repression."

"It's called keeping the order. And they're not my friends."

"They're more friends to you than they're to me. Policemen, they cannot be trusted."

.

Alfie was right. Police arrested several of them for disturbance in public spaces. They were going to release soon and the only consequence of their actions for now, was a legal folder containing their arrest records.

Some of them got their freedom after few questions or right after the police got their fingerprints. Others, were still there. The girl who had the megaphone among them.

"If there's not female officers, then, don't you fucking dare to put your dirty, bloody hands on me, motherfucker. You're going to regret it when I put your fucking name in every social media: Gregory Williams, first officer, touched an unarmed woman. Do you want a legion of feminists in front your police department? Because I can do that."

The man pushed her against chair "just waited there, Coldwell! It's always a pleasure to host you here. Your cell is waiting for you."

"S.M.P"

"I don't know what that means, but I'm assuming that you are sending regards to my mother."

"Your mother is not the one to blame, she's not guilty of what you are. S.M.P, means suck my pussy. I'm already under arrest, the least I can do now is let out the hatred in my heart."

It was good that one of her younger brothers was a lawyer. Instead of spending a whole day there, they let her out before midnight, even when Williams was willing to leave her there for two weeks.

"I'll be back, fucker."

"Rose, shut up," his brother Samuel, the lawyer, grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of the police department. "One day, it will cost you more than a bail."

"I did nothing, Samuel. Prisons are overpopulated with criminals, killers, rapists and the worst of all, according to them: innocent people. So, I don't fit in any category therefore, I'm fine. But thanks again, Sam."

"Don't mention it. Are you going to your apartment?"

"Yes. I need to walk. I call you when I'm there."

"Ok. Take care, Rosie."

Rose put her hands in her pockets and began to walk. The streetlights, the shop signs and the cars illuminated her way. Was it worth? Yes, definitely. No one in humanity got anything by saying please and thank you. Humans were born to fight. In wars or in daily life, but everything was a battle with few moments of peace.

Rose always felt inside her, probably in another life, she did something similar too. Maybe worse. Fighting for people's rights was something that she was born with. But she didn't know why.

She stopped by a coffee shop to buy a latte. It was late, but who were going to stop her? Besides, she was hungry and last time she ate something was that morning when had her breakfast.

.

Alfie ended his shift gladly to return home without any major accidents that day. A sandwich was what he wanted. Around the corner was a coffee shop opened 24 hours and had the most delicious cheese sandwich that he knew. His stomach growled in anticipation of the feast.

The place was almost empty except for two men holding hands at a table and the girl in front of him waiting for her coffee. He looked at the couple and couldn't help but think about him and Tommy. It was long time ago to be considered ancient history and yet, it was yesterday at the same time.

He turned his gaze towards the list of coffees there and thought that maybe he could order one like the girl in front of him did.

The girl.

Alfie paid attention to the woman there and he recognised her from the news he saw earlier that day. So, she was fine, after all. The news also showed later how police apprehended the rioters and take them to the station.

Alfie cleared his throat making her to look at him for the first time.

"Good night," he said.

"Good night."

"I know you."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

"Really? Because I don't know you." Rose, looked at him. Really looked at him. A tall, bearded and, in her eyes, a good-looking man. Yet, she knew very well that creepy men where everywhere and some were handsome. So her mind was in alert. Just in case.

"I saw you today in the news. Megaphone in hand."

"Oh, I didn't know I was in the news."

"Problematic people tend to be famous."

"Excuse me, are you calling me problematic?"

The barista had the cup of coffee in his hands to give it to her, but he was also interested in the current conversation. Nights used to be way boring.

"Someone inciting violence in the streets isn't an angel."

"What are you? A cop?"

"Fucking ridiculous! I prefer to be dead before being a cop. I'm just saying, sweetheart."

She frowned "well, congratulations then, anonymous man. You get it very well who I am."

Rose finally grabbed the coffee that the barista prepared, thanked at the boy and went out.

"If i were your age, man, I'd ask her, her telephone number," the barista said preparing the sandwich that Alfie ordered.

"What do you mean my age? I'm just 30!"

"I'm just saying, sir."

Insolent kid. Alfie chose not to order the coffee and also left the place after paying for it.

The young woman wasn't near to be seen anymore.

.

Her head hurt the next morning. She slept very bad and the sound of workers on the other side of the street didn't help at all. Next to her in bed, her English bulldog called CPU, was snoring.

"Lucky lady," Rose thought looking at her.

She let her dog sleep, although CPU probably will be demanding food soon.

It was an ordinary breakfast what started everything. The same she prepared to her day after day. Although in fact, it wasn't the breakfast per se what caused the incident but a series of unfortunate events.

The kitchen cloth was in the counter and the burner was on. Maybe, a part of the cloth was touching the fire.

Kitchen is a dangerous place if you're not careful. And she Rose hadn't been careful. Not with the migraine accentuating her bad mood and tired as she was. Maybe, if CPU had been awake asking her to be fed then Rose could have noticed the first flames, but she wasn't. After drinking her tea and taking an aspirin she went back to bed. She didn't check the burner at all.

The cooking oil was also in the counter and the fire began to melt the plastic bottle, causing the oil started to spread over the floor and the flames followed the path.

CPU started to bark, but Rose was too tired to understand what was happening.

Until the smoke started to fill the whole apartment. Grey and thick like the things you saw in movie.

"Fucking God!" Rose jumped out of the bed, only to see her place covered by it. Coughing, she dragged her dog out of there. Her phone, remained inside.

It was a neighbour who called the fire department. The smell of smoke was reaching his own apartment. They arrived pretty quickly.

.

"New day, new problem," Alfie said driving the truck trough the street with the sirens on.

He saw the smoke as soon as he turned the corner. People outside were looking at the place where the fire started.

"Get the ladder!" One of the fireman yelled.

"Anyone inside the house?" Alfie asked to one of the neighbours.

"No. That girl and her dog live there, but she went out just in time. Both of them" and old lady replied.

While his men were climbing, he turned around to see the owner of the apartment.

You're kidding me.

"So, the problematic girl is causing problems as expected."

Rose, still hugging CPU, raised her eyes to see the man in front of her. The distinctive gear: turnout pants and jacket, helmet and boots gave him the appearance of someone bigger. Yet, despite the helmet, she recognised him. Of course she did.

"Are you a fireman?"

"Unless you guess I'm a freak wearing this thing that is heavy as fuck, then I'm a fireman, sweetheart. The Captain, in fact."

"Good."

"You need to tell me what happened. Do you need medical assistance?"

"No, I don't. I'm fine. She's fine too," Rose said refering to her dog. "But I guess my fucking apartment is not. I don't know what happened, but probably I left the burner on. I don't remember. I woke up feeling really bad so I made tea, took an aspirin and went back to bed. When my dog started to bark much later I saw the smoke. That's all."

"Ok, fine. Don't worry, accidents happen all the time. My men will take care of it and will determine what happened. Sadly until you can hire people to fix this mess you can't live here."

"Yes, I know. I'll be back to my mother's place."

"It's a good choice."

She nodded. It was the only place she knew, on the other hand. The firemen were still working behind his Captain while he was filling out a form that after few minutes he handled to her.

"Routine paperwork just to demonstrate that we worked here," he said as she started to fill her personal data there. She gave the papers back to him, who smiled.

"Well, Rose Elizabeth Coldwell, also known as problematic girl. I'm Captain Solomons, but you can call me Alfie."

And he winked at her.

[darth-mortem]

This is a fourth chapter of my COD fic "At the Crossroads of the Worlds" translated by @g8se.

Task force "141" was sent to clean up a secret laboratory, the research of which was financed by states recognized as sponsors of terrorism. The soldiers broke into a bunker located in the Caucasus Mountains on the Russian-Georgian border. At first, everything went according to plan, but after the fighters split up, Ghost came across a strange room, the door of which locked automatically the moment he was inside. Without knowing it, Simon Riley had set off an experiment that had been brewing here for years, and now he would have to be very strong to finally return home.

First chapter | Second chapter | Third chapter

Chapter 4 of 6. 3157 words.

Past character death, angst, action, secret lab, experiment, parallel worlds, 18+

August 17, 2016. Temporary base of TF 141. Iran. Zagros Range. Coordinates classified. Experiment status: Forty-five hours after successful equipment launch. Vital signs of the subject: Noted spikes in breathing and heart rate; reasons undetermined. Reality LW414/2016.

Ghost stood, leaning against the wall of one of the abandoned buildings of the former terrorist base, smoking a bitter cigarette from local supplies. He had run out of his own earlier this morning, so Soap had shown him where they kept several boxes of cigarettes left from the former owners of this place. There, they found not only Iranian but also Russian cigarettes, which didn't surprise Riley at all.

The orange sun was setting behind the mountains. Over Ghost's head, the sky was already dark, revealing the first stars, yet on the horizon, light still glimmered. The building housing the soldiers of the 141 stood at the farthest end of the base, so the captain didn't hear any sounds except for distant gunfire. It was Lieutenant Riley had taken ammunition from the storage this morning and ventured beyond the territory to test his new rifle. Ghost wanted to go with him, but Johnny called him to help bandage Rouch, and when they were done, Simon was already gone.

“Dinnae worry, he knows this area better than a’ o’ us,” MacTavish said. “Come on, let's gi’ it a go, throw a few punches. A strapping lad like yersel’ likely knows how tae scuffle, aye?”

And Ghost agreed. All he had been doing with this 141 what he hadn't done with his own for seven years - communicating, training, participating in solving everyday problems, and so on. With this 141 he engaged in the activities he couldn’t do with his own team for seven years – communicating, training, tackling everyday issues, and the like. Lieutenant Riley, on the other hand, was absent throughout the day, even skipping lunch altogether. However, Price mentioned that he had brought snacks along, putting Captain Riley's concerns at ease. In the end, his younger double behaved the same way as he did in his own world.

Ghost felt strange. Defining feelings was never his strong suit, whether his own or others’. Nevertheless, he recognized a distinct sense of unreality in the unfolding events. Riley understood that the wall he was leaning on was tangible, that the cigarette was indeed bitter, that if he got hit by a bullet, he would be truly injured or even killed. The captain also had no doubts that all these people around him were no less real than he was. They were simultaneously similar and different to their counterparts in Ghost's world. Having talked to them, he noticed both identical events and completely different ones. But he didn't think too deeply about all this because he was a soldier, not a scientist, and he probably wouldn't be able to draw the right conclusions from the experiment, in which he became an involuntary participant.

“Hey, Ghost!” Simon heard Soap's cheerful voice and involuntarily shuddered at the strong sense of déjà vu that washed over him. “Ah, blast it! I’ve been searching the whole base for ye! Ye doin’ alright?”

MacTavish approached and probably noticed something in Ghost's posture or the exposed lower part of his face because the last sentence was spoken quieter and more anxiously than cheerfully.

“Yeah, I'm okay,” Captain Riley replied and sighed heavily. “I just feel really weird. All of you, your Ghost... I don't know what to make of it. I clearly wasn't ready for this experiment. But enough about me. Did you want something?”

“Aye,” MacTavish rubbed his temple, collecting his thoughts. "I wanted tae thank ye, ken? For savin' Simon. An' Gary, o' course. But ye... dinnae fix yer gaze on me. Is it hard for ye, considerin' in yer world, I met me end?"

“No,” Ghost sighed and forced himself to turn back to Soap. “Well, maybe a little.”

MacTavish nodded and looked in towards the mountains where the sun had completely hidden behind the peaks. Riley was silent, but Johnny wasn't surprised. Both Ghosts were similar in character, but this older one was even more melancholic, though calmer and more self-assured. Maybe his age could account for this, or perhaps it was due to the trials in his life being less daunting than those faced by Lieutenant Riley, or even by the fact that he had already lost everything he loved, leaving him unafraid and devoid of emotions.

“Listen,” Johnny cleared his throat and shifted from foot to foot, “our Simon would never let me dae whit I'm aboot tae dae, but the twa o' ye arenae completely identical, so...”

Soap approached closer and hugged Ghost tightly. At first he stood still in astonishment for a few moments, but then gently placed his hands on the waist of this strange, and yet so similar Johnny. Riley bowed his head, resting it on MacTavish's shoulder, and closed his eyes, imagining that it was his Soap. That he survived; that they fought and grew older side by side; that there was no bullet; that Johnny wasn't lying on the cold floor of the underground, bleeding out; that Ghost didn't watch as his living and shining eyes glazed over and became empty, frightening, dead.

“You,” Riley coughed, as he felt his voice becoming hoarse and slightly trembling, “you should try.”

“Try wha’?” Johnny felt Ghost's fingers in his hair and gently stroked his back.

“To do this with Simon,” Riley slowly raised his head, stepped back, and lowered the edge of his mask, covering his face completely. “I think he wouldn’t mind it.”

“Well,” a smile appeared on Johnny's face, "maybe I will. Now, let's go, it's time fer supper. Simon likely has made his way back by now."

Ghost listened and realized that he no longer heard gunfire. Nodding, he slapped Soap on the shoulder and headed towards the building that 141 had arranged as their safe place.

During dinner, Captain Riley was silent. He barely participated in the conversations, just discreetly observed his younger double and Captain MacTavish. Then he volunteered to wash the dishes, and after that, he went straight to the room he shared with Lieutenant Riley. Ghost wanted to be alone, but his younger double was already there, sitting at the table and cleaning the MX25.

“So, how is it?” Captain Riley asked, closing the door, and approaching, then sitting on the bunk.

“Very cool!” The lieutenant responded with enthusiasm, not stopping his work; he had just finished cleaning and started assembling the rifle. “Thank you, Simon.”

“You're welcome,” Ghost smiled under his mask, and from his pockets, he pulled out his phone and then cigarettes.

The mobile phone was working, but there was no signal. However, it could be because he was in a remote area where there is no signal at all. In his world in 2030, there were few such zones left, but in 2016, everything was different, and Ghost remembered those times well.

“Do you have any photos there?” Lieutenant Riley asked.

The captain looked up at him and saw that Simon had already assembled the rifle and cleared the table, and his cigarette had burned down, and the ash had scattered on the floor.

“Damn,” Ghost sighed and threw the stub into a canned jar serving as an ashtray, “do you have any kind of broom here?”

His younger double somehow looked gloomier, and Riley, looking at the ash again, swept it under the bed with his foot.

“Of course,” he answered the previous question, and Simon's gaze brightened. “Do you want to see my 141? Sit down; I'll show you.”

Older Ghost opened the gallery and began showing his younger double numerous pictures. Captain Riley didn't spend much time with the soldiers, but he liked to secretly take photos of them, usually so they wouldn't notice.

Simon enjoyed looking at these photos. He asked about the surroundings, marvelled that Roach was so old, and that Gaz in the older Ghost's world had a completely different skin colour. Lieutenant has never met Kyle Garrick in person, but Captain MacTavish's, who had been friends with him, had his photos in his collection.

Captain Riley relaxed, continuing to flip through the photos, and on the screen of his phone appeared a picture of himself, next to the cheerful and forever young Sergeant MacTavish with his unchanged funny mohawk, radiant smile, and amazing blue eyes.

“This is his last photo,” Ghost said and touched Johnny's face on the screen with his fingers. “The next day, on November 21, 2023, he died.”

“They are so similar,” Simon quietly spoke, looking at his older double, and then reached out cautiously and uncertainly, putting his arm around his shoulders.

Ghost sighed, put away the phone, and huddled, lowering his head. He lost Johnny seven years ago, but the pain did not weaken even a bit. The only difference was that over all this time, Riley had learned to live with it, so in a minute, he managed to compose himself and even smile under his mask.

“Simon,” the lieutenant spoke quietly, “I want to give you something. Wait a second, I...”

He jumped up, went to the lockers, and began to rummage through them until he pulled out a rectangular photo. In the picture was the entire 141: Captain MacTavish, Captain Price, Sergeant Sanderson, and Lieutenant Riley in his already iconic skull balaclavas. In the upper left corner was the date - October 8, 2013.

“Thank you, Simon,” Ghost said, looking at the photo, then stood up and put it in one of the pockets of his vest. “I don't know when I'll be back and how my life will turn out, but I will never forget you guys.”

“We won't forget you either,” younger Ghost smiled, and his eyes narrowed in the slit his the balaclava.

For a few minutes, both were silent, sitting side by side on the bunk, and then Captain Riley glanced at the lieutenant and asked:

“What about your Johnny?”

“Nothing,” the lieutenant answered and lowered his eyes. “I like him, but it's not mutual, so...”

“Nonsense,” Ghost interrupted. “Haven't you noticed how he looks at you? He likes you too.”

“Even if that's true,” Simon sighed heavily, “I'm not the one he needs. A lot of the shit that’s happened to me, it destroyed me, broke me. I'll never be the same as before, never be normal again. And the way I look now... No. It won't be good for him to be with me.”

“You're wrong,” Captain Riley spoke quietly. “I think we had similar fates, you and I. You were in Mexico too, right? Roba's destroyed you, your family, and then you came back and got your revenge. But all that doesn't make you worse than others.”

Simon was silent, staring at his older double with eyes wide-open, while Ghost spoke, no longer having the strength to stop.

“I saw that some of your scars are identical to mine,” he continued. “Here, and here.”

He reached out and lightly ran his fingers over the fabric of his younger double's balaclava, outlining the scars that cut through his lips and cheek. Then he touched his temple, forehead, and moved to Simon; slid his fingers lower and circled his neck. When his fingers began to trace a large letter Y on the lieutenant's chest, he flinched, grabbed Ghost's hand, and squeezed it with his own, finally looking into Captain Riley's eyes.

“It doesn't mean anything,” Ghost shook his head. “Not for Johnny.”

“What should I do then?” Simon asked quietly, not letting go of his older counterpart's hand.

“Talk to him,” Ghost replied, “confess your feelings. I know it's scary. You know, I was afraid too, so I didn't say and do a lot of what I wanted. I thought I would have more time, but... So don't repeat my mistakes. We can't know how much time we're given. Our job is dangerous, and death is always nearby. So if you have something to tell Johnny, do it now before it's too late. Otherwise, you'll be punishing yourself for not doing so for the rest of your life.”

“I'll try,” the lieutenant spoke. “But I'm not like you. You're confident, brave, and strong, and I... Well, I can only dream of becoming like you when I grow up.”

“We are the same, Simon,” the captain nodded. “You're strong and brave too, and as for confidence... Show me your face?”

“And you?” younger Ghost responded with a question.

Older Ghost thought for just a second before pulling off his mask. The lieutenant looked at him, reached out, hesitantly touching the scar on his cheek with the tips of his fingers, and then slowly took off his balaclava.

Captain Riley saw that his double was still very young. He had dark, short hair, blue eyes, and thin lips, chapped, dry lips because the lieutenant was clearly nervous. The scars looked fresher but were indeed arranged in the same way as Ghost's.

“Well,” the captain spoke gently, “now I see that I was not mistaken. You truly are handsome.”

The lieutenant, though timid and having a light blush covering his cheeks, didn't pull away when Ghost touched his face again, now unhindered by the dense fabric of the balaclava. Simon closed his eyes and rubbed his cheek against his older double's large hand, feeling surprisingly calm and even comfortable with an exposed face, something that hadn't happened to him in quite a while. Ghost smiled sincerely and warmly, something he hadn't done in seven years, then lowered his head and gently touched Simon's lips with his own. The lieutenant froze for a moment, then closed his eyes, and leaned forward, pressing against the broad chest of his older double.

“This is so strange,” the lieutenant exhaled, slipping his hand under Ghost's hoodie and feeling the scars on his back with his fingertips.

“But it's not bad, is it?” Ghost slowly unzipped the grey fleece on Simon.

“No,” he immediately pulled his hands away to take off his own shirt and pressed against Ghost again, “no, not bad at all, quite the opposite - very good.”

They kissed again, this time more boldly, confidently, and passionately. Younger Ghost pressed against the older one, and the latter eagerly caressed his back, sliding his hands under his shirt. When they ran out of breath, they paused for a few seconds to remove each other's upper garments, and the lieutenant, seeing the captain's tattoo, breathed in with amazement, running his fingers over the drawings on his skin.

“Do you like it?” Ghost asked.

“Yes,” his younger double responded. “Maybe if we survive all this, I'll get a tattoo myself. I'll ask Johnny to draw a sketch.”

“You'll survive,” the captain said confidently and slightly stepped back, looking into the lieutenant's eyes. “Do you want to continue?”

Ghost remembered what he was like after Mexico. How hard it was for him to trust; how he was afraid to show his scarred body and face; how long Johnny had to persuade him into something more than quick ‘help’ with clothes still on, and often with equipment as well.

Now, with Simon, everything was different. They were two identical people, so the lieutenant wasn't afraid or ashamed, and Ghost had a chance to show him that it wasn't worth it. That the scars didn't deform him, and the terrible torture and grief didn't really break him. That he deserved happiness, pleasure, and care just like anyone else in this world or any other.

Probably, the lieutenant was thinking something similar because an uncertain smile appeared on his scarred lips, and then he took Ghost's hand and put it on his thigh. This gesture and Simon's red cheeks were more expressive than any words, so Ghost gently pushed him onto the bed and continued to undress.

Soon, they both found themselves naked on the narrow bunk. The lieutenant enjoyed the feeling of the sturdy captain pressing him with all his weight. He embraced Ghost, feeling his hands and lips on his body. Simon felt incredibly good, just as he thought he never would again. It seemed like Ghost had known him for many years - knew where and how to touch, stroke, and kiss. Though, why ‘seemed’? Weren't they the same, though not very similar on the outside?

Simon let out a quiet moan, and Ghost, leaning in, touched his lips with his own.

“Quiet, my dear,” he whispered hoarsely, “be quiet.”

The lieutenant himself understood the need for silence, so he pulled the captain closer, pressed his face into his shoulder, and with absolute trust gave in to the control of his older double's large and gentle hands, which were doing incredible things to him.

Ghost also felt that everything that was happening was right. It had been a long time since he felt so good and easy, as if the heavy burden of sorrow and loss had fallen off his shoulders, freeing him from pain. Soon, Simon gathered his courage and reached for him, responding with care to care and tenderness to tenderness.

“So good, Simon,” the lieutenant whispered, feeling that he could no longer hold back, and pleasure was about to overwhelm him, like a powerful explosive wave.

Instead of an answer, Ghost covered his lips with his own. He began to move his hand even faster, and then pulled the slender body of his younger double closer, feeling him tremble and cling to his shoulders, finally getting the long-awaited release.

They allowed themselves a few minutes to relax in each other's arms, and then, without speaking, they stood up, straightened themselves, and dressed. Lighting bitter local cigarettes, they sat on the bunk. The captain warmly smiled at the lieutenant, and a smile appeared on Simon's lips in response.

“Thank you,” he said and touched his older double's shoulder. “You know, I'll talk to Johnny tomorrow. I hope I'll have enough courage.”

“You will,” Ghost replied, “and if not, let this give you strength.”

He took off his dog tags. Understanding what he was about to do, Simon took off his own, and they exchanged them. The lieutenant thought that the captain would remove the rings from his chain, but he just shook his head with a sad smile on his scarred lips.

“I won't need them anymore,” he said, putting the lieutenant's dog tags around his neck, “but here - you might. So take them and remember me.”

Finishing his cigarette, Simon hugged Ghost, pulled his balaclava back on, and climbed onto the upper bunk. He fell asleep quickly and soundly and didn't see how the captain put on his mask, sat for a few minutes, and then, yielding to some unknown foreboding, quickly geared up and tucked his feet into boots before lying down too.

When Lieutenant Riley woke up in the morning, the captain was already gone. Simon jumped to the floor and wanted to run and search for, but, touching his bunk, he realized that it would be in vain. Captain Riley disappeared from this world, and all that was left was to hope that he had returned home.

[starlostastronaut]

DAY 22 | PICTURE FRAMES

PAIRING: kim seungmin x reader

GENRE: fluff, non idol au

WC: 1.06k

CW: photographer!seungmin, model!reader, reader reffered to as girlfriend and queen, implied fem clothing for reader, attempt at humour? (kinda? idk)

PROMPT: he asks you to be his model

my last two braincells wrote this at 1am, so thats about all the explanation you'll get for this... thing. enjoy reading <3

title from paper rings - taylor swift

general masterlist here

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Immediately after entering the studio, you were swarmed by a group of stylists and makeup artists. Despite being in the industry for a few years now, this was something you were still getting used to. You weren’t a risk-loving person, quite the opposite, actually. You liked to have everything planned out beforehand and to know where you were going and what you were going to be doing. You liked to be prepared. You liked control. Nonetheless, photoshoots were not that kind of thing. It usually depended on who you were working with, but more often than not, you weren’t told what you were going to shoot. The company would provide a short questionnaire about things you were and weren’t comfortable with, but they barely told you the theme. And even though you loved being a model, this part of the job was not your favourite.

And Kim Seungmin was the worst of them. He was a freelance photographer, a highly demanded one, but he often set aside the time to do some photoshoots of his own to update his portfolio and Instagram. And he liked to rope his friends into modeling for him. Having met him all the way back in high school and being a professional model on top of being his girlfriend, no wonder you were on top of his list. Unfortunately for you, he liked to keep his concepts a secret, refusing to tell you anything except the time and location. For reasons unknown to you, you always said yes, though. Maybe it was the pleading puppy eyes he mastered over the years, or because you knew he would never make you do anything you were truly uncomfortable with. And so he kept asking, and you kept agreeing.

And that was how you found yourself in a makeup chair in front of a not very stable table with a mirror placed on top of it. It certainly wasn't the best makeup station you saw, but on the other hand, you were in an abandoned warehouse that supposedly inspired Seungmin, so it could have been worse. At least three stylists were currently occupied by your hairstyle for the shoot, while others argued about the shade of your eyeshadow. You sighed and relaxed in the chair. This was going to take some time. 

Three braids later, some comotion could be heard by the entrance. When you turned your head to the source, you saw Jeongin walking towards the makeup station, looking excited. You should have guessed he would be here. Besides you, Jeongin was Seungmin's favourite model. And he especially liked photographing you two together, claiming the visuals were out of this world.

You greeted Jeongin politely when he sat down. Despite him being Seungmin's best friend, you never hung out much with him, aside from photoshoots. You tried to make small talk with him as the stylists were getting both of you ready, but it was so awkward that you were glad when the makeup artists told you to be quiet so as not to mess up the makeup.

Seungmin arrived soon after. He came by the station to greet you and Jeongin. “Any guesses on the concept yet? This one is pretty obvious,” he smirked, tilting his head to Jeongin, who was now dressed in a loose white shirt and tight pants, with knee-high boots ready. You shook your head. Well, you had your ideas but didn't want to say them out loud in front of Seungmin. He made it a game to let you guess the themes for photoshoots, rewarding you with a kiss whenever you guessed right. More often than not, you didn't, though, and he would mock you for it (with love, of course). So you started to refuse to tell him, making him pout about ruining the game. It was an endless back-and-forth, but that was just how the two of you worked. Love disguised as bickering and teasing.

Half an hour later, when you were in your costumes, the concept finally became clear. Faeries, specifically a faerie queen and a king. While you and Jeongin were getting dressed, Seungmin and the rest of the crew created a scene that looked like something out of a dark fairytale. The old warehouse was decorated with lights, sheer fabric, flowers, and all the typical faerie items, which strongly contrasted with the ruins around you. Someone even made a half-broken throne, and after the first few poses, it was explained to you that you and Jeongin represented the faerie conquerors after their victory, claiming the throne of the land they left destroyed. The concept was a complex story that made your head hurt a little bit trying to fully understand the vision, but that was normal for Seungmin. You let it go and focused on being the best dark queen you could be.

After the shoot, Seungmin asked you to stay for a little bit. You sat down next to him, throwing an arm around his shoulder and leaning into his side. Seungmin shoved the camera in front of you. “You looked beautiful,” he said, showing you the first couple of pictures. “My scary queen.” Looking at the pictures, you had to agree with him. You looked majestic, with the background and your costume creating this mysterious and dangerous aura around you. You went over the rest of the pictures with him, smiling when he paused to point out a detail, excitedly telling you how you captured his vision perfectly.

“I knew what I was doing when I started dating a model,” he mused, yelping in pain when you smacked his shoulder playfully. 

“Hey.” You put on an offended face. “So that's the only reason we're dating, Kim Seungmin?” You cocked your brow and watched him agree with a mischievous smirk on his face. "Well, you should know that I only agreed to date you because you take pretty pictures,” you replied, suppressing a smile. You needed to keep up your mock offense a bit longer.

“See, it's mutually beneficial,” Seungmin shrugged and swiftly avoided another hit to his arm. During that, he lost his balance and fell from the bench, his camera still in his hands. You couldn’t help but laugh as he went down, desperately trying to shield the camera from the impact. When he looked up from the ground with furrowed brows, you only laughed harder.

taglist: @stayconnecteed @saintriots @vivioluh @ivaneedssleep @jazziwritesthings @darkypooo @sleepyleeji

©starlostastronaut 2023 | do not repost/translate my work without permission

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Super Manga Ch. 77-80

When I first read this, I was pissed because I’m sick of Vegeta just knowing everything that happened to every Saiyan before they were wiped out.  I mean, he was a kid back then, how would he know Goku’s dad? 

Then I finally remembered Vegeta grew up with Goku’s brother, and it suddenly made sense. 

Okay, so let’s back up a bit and go over why Granolah wants revenge in the first place.  About forty-odd years ago the Cerealians were invaded by Frieza’s forces, including a lot of Saiyans.  I think they showed some other aliens in Frieza uniforms, but it’s mainly Saiyans using Oozaru forms.  The Cerealians managed to neutralize the giant ape business, but the Saiyans were still strong enough to kill them all.  There was also a small community of Namekians living on the planet Cereal, and they all died as well.  There were only two survivors: The Namekian Monaito, who inherited the Cerealian Dragon Balls from the village elder, and Granolah, who found refuge in a building with his mother. 

However, Granolah and his mom were discovered by a Saiyan named Bardock.  He probably would have killed them on sight, except they happened to remind him of...

His wife and newborn son, whom he saw recently before this mission.  Turns out Bardock was the one who came up with the name “Kakarot.”

So instead of killing the two Cerealians, Bardock tells the rest of his squad that he’s going to stay behind to take out any survivors.  Then he scans the area and locates Monaito.  He then takes Granolah and his mom to Monaito and asks him to take them in.  Then he leaves, or he tries to, anyway.

Afterwards, Granolah grew up craving revenge on the Saiyans and Frieza, and he must have had no memory of Bardock’s act of mercy.  Monaito’s known all along, and he kept it a secret this whole time, but he’s telling Granolah now because he wants him to stop his attack on Goku and Vegeta.  And as he explains all this, he notices that Goku bears a striking resemblance to Bardock, and that’s when Vegeta explains that Bardock was Goku’s father. 

But wait, if Bardock saved Granolah’s mother, then who killed her?  Ah, well you see...

Shortly after Bardock saved those guys, the Heeters showed up.  They worked as planet brokers under Frieza, so once Planet Cereal was vacant, they started making plans to sell it to the Sugarians.  Naturally, they planned to overcharge the Sugurians and give Frieza a modest cut. 

But then they happened across Bardock, Monaito, Granolah and his mom, and Bardock had to pretend that he was preparing to take Monaito prisoner to cover his tracks.  Elec then shot Granolah’s mom just to simplify things.  This infuriated Bardock, who then attacked the Heeters, which led to a fight with Gas.  Bardock won that day, although Monaito didn’t get to see that part, for some reason.

So why didn’t Monaito tell Granolah about the Heeters?  Why didn’t he say anything when Granolah started working for them? 

Because Monaito knew he’d go off on some half-baked revenge scheme and get himself killed.  This is probably why Monaito allowed Granolah to believe it was the Saiyans who did it, because once Frieza destroyed their home planet, there was no one for Granolah to go after, and he seemed to understand that Frieza was too strong.  But that backfired on Monaito, because once Granolah found out about Frieza returning and some Saiyans still being alive, he... went off on some half-baked revenge scheme. 

Anyway, Elec knew Granolah had talent, and since he never knew about the whole murdered-his-mom thing, Elec thought he could recruit him for his organization.  After that, Monaito couldn’t tell him the truth, because Elec would kill them both.

Anyway, while all this exposition is happening, the Heeters find the Cerealian Dragon Balls and make their wish...

... which is basically the same wish Granolah made at the beginning of this arc, only they asked for Gas to become the strongest warrior in the universe.  And since the wish was granted, that means Gas must be even stronger than Granolah is.

So they fight, and Granolah gets his ass kicked.  Gas’ whole deal is that he uses energy constructs, sort of like Green Lantern but without the ring.  This isn’t a new power he got, it’s something he’s always been able to do, and through much of this battle, he tries to win with the power he had before Elec made the wish. 

Goku comes up with a plan to handle Gas.  He wants Vegeta to eat his senzu bean and fight with Ultra Ego again, but Vegeta left the bean in his armor, which he took off while fighting Granolah.  So first he has to go find it, and Goku will try to hold Gas off in the meantime. 

But Vegeta gives the senzu bean to Granolah instead, insisting that he’s the one who wants revenge on these guys, so it should be him who settles things. 

On his way to fight Gas, Granolah makes up with Oatmeel and puts him back on, assuring the computer than they’re a team.  Awww.

So this is just Gas vs. Granolah, with Goku and Vegeta reduced to spectators.  It’s an interesting choice to say the least.  Gas should have the advantage on power, but Granolah stays competitive for a few reasons.

1) Gas doesn’t want to use his full strength, because he thinks he should be able to win with the power he had before the wish.  That doesn’t work, so he eventually relents and uses his full power, but he wastes a lot of valuable time and energy this way.

2) Gas hasn’t fought much at all in this arc, mainly because Elec always wanted to keep him in reserve as a last resort. We know he fought Bardock decades ago (and lost), so he’s clearly gotten a lot stronger, even without that wish to beef him up, but he lacks experience with this power.  Granolah had the same problem when he fought Goku and Vegeta, but now he’s got the advantage, because he... just got done fighting Goku and Vegeta.  If he can beat those two, he can hold his own against Gas.

3) Granolah has his Cerelian perception, which makes his attacks far more precise than anything Gas can do.  

It’s also possible that Gas’s heart just isn’t in this.  He seems distant from the priorities of the other Heeters.  When he has difficulty fighting, Elec removes the headband of teeth from his head.  The other Heeter wear these like necklaces, and apparently they’re not decoaritive.  Somehow they restrain their powers, and if you remove them, they become stronger, but also go berserk.  Wonder Woman’s bracelets used to work this way.  If she lost them, she’d go apeshit and kick everyone’s ass.

According to Monaito, the same thing happened when Bardock fought Gas forty years ago.  Gas took off his headband thing and transformed into a gonzo monster.  Bardock won somehow, but Gas is far more powerful now, and this time he attacks everybody.  But Elec isn’t worried, because if Gas is truly the strongest in the universe now, then he ought to be able to regain control over himself.

And that’s exactly what he does.  Not sure how he got his clothes back after he hulked out of them, but maybe the dragon gave him the Clothes Beam technique along with all the other upgrades. 

And this brings me to the end of volume 18 of Dragon Ball Super.  Volume 19 won’t be published in English until September, and I don’t want to wait that long, so I guess I’ll have to find the next several chapters elsewhere. So hopefully I can pick this up tomorrow...

Oh, right, Bardock. 

So, Bardock showing up in this arc caused a lot of agitation in the fandom.  I think this was mostly because of lingering frustration with Dragon Ball Minus retconning all the Bardock lore from the 1990 TV special.  That, and there’s also a lot of Bardock Fatigue in the fandom, because the franchise has been shoehorning Bardock into every video game and merchandise possible.  For many, working him into the DBS manga was just another crass marketing ploy. 

Also, chapter 77 marks the moment when Goku finally learns about his father, which is a big deal for the character, but a milestone like that is always going to be controversial, because there will be fans who think the series was better off when Goku didn’t know.  It’s like when Clark Kent told Lois he was really Superman.  You can’t unring that bell. 

I... don’t particularly care about any of that.  For my part, Bardock’s a cool character, and I don’t mind seeing him or his cute wife.  Anything Toei or Shueisha does with Goku’s parents is a fair play in my book.  It’s no different from having Tien or Android 17 show up.  But there seems to be this special status that’s been assigned to Bardock, where he’s either too cool or too overexposed, and that makes him off-limits.  Well, I don’t buy into made-up rules like that. 

I get the sense that there’s this edgelord contingent of the fandom that wouldn’t accept any version of Bardock short of him murdering Granolah’s mom and eating Monaito’s face or something.  I don’t understand these fans, because the “Father of Goku” special is just Bardock getting the shit kicked out of him from start to finish.  Tooru kicks him in the head, then he goes to Planet Meat and Dodoria beats him up, then he flies to Planet Vegeta and dies to Frieza.  How is this guy a badass?  Because he dominated Dodoria’s goon squad?  Well Guldo could one-shot all of them, so why isn’t everyone fawning over Guldo then?

People got mad because Bardock said “tummy”, which isn’t a very badass word to use.  You never hear Guldo say “tummy”, and he’s hard as nails.  My thing is, if you imagine Sonny Strait delivering the line in that cool voice he uses, it sounds a lot more natural.  Yeah, if he said it in the Krillin voice, it’d be goofy, which is why he doesn’t use the same voice for both characters. 

I’d chalk it up to a translation issue, really.  I mean, it’s probably accurate, but the people at Viz should have used different wording.  Sometimes you have to punch up the dialogue, make it sound more like something Guldo would say. 

The point I’m trying to make is that Bardock isn’t some sacred cow, and he’s also not a third rail that the franchise is forbidden from using.  Dragon Ball Super brought back the Mafuba and the Grand Supreme Kai and the guy Zarbon kicked on Namek.  Of course they were going to do something with Bardock.  I’m more surprised that they didn’t just have him time travel to present-day Earth and live in Goku’s house for a while. 

[girl-mercury]

okay, i'll bite: "timegem" is quite the compelling word! 💎 reveal to us a piece of the war-tinted romance! 🇺🇸

(from the WIP meme, where i listed my many, many WIPs and asked for people to let me know what they're curious about)

This fic is set not long after Captain America: Winter Soldier, and through the power of the Time Gem or whatever the stone is called, Steve makes a wish for a second chance and old dying Peggy is spontaneously young again! How great, now she and Steve can live together here in the future, it all worked out!

... except, she's like 93 years old, in life experience. She doesn't know what a PDF is, okay? She's been married and widowed twice, she has great-grandchildren, and she has spent decades creating the legacy of an intelligence agency meant to keep the world safe, crafting connections across the world to ensure the stability of this institution that can weather its missteps and, she hopes, do more good than bad.

And Steve, her lost love from her twenties, just cannonballed into the side of that institution and blew up her entire legacy, to rightfully destroy the tentacles HYDRA had buried deep within it, but with no thought to preserving anything or anyone SHIELD kept safe, or keeping any of its secrets. Peggy might not have been the most fanatical as some of the Cold War hawks out there, and certainly had pursued the process of accountability for a number of bad containment policies of those decades, but the shades of grey she learned to see and Steve never had the chance to are making their sudden reunion a lot more complicated.

So she decides, time to go on a trip and see the world she had a hand in making, now that she's almost anonymous again. Along the way, she spends time with Fury, Natasha, and Bucky, and eventually finds her way back to Steve.

A SNIPPET:

Peggy slowly blinked awake in the morning sunlight, feeling an ache in her muscles like she had just completed a marathon, which wasn’t that inaccurate, really. She was in Steve’s apartment, and it was 2015, and she was in her twenties, give or take seven decades. It was luxurious, to wake up and be present in knowing where and when she was with a mind she could depend on. (It was also luxurious to have better options for sex than Milt and John asking her over bingo if she wanted to be in a threesome with them. Nursing home hookup culture was not for her, at least not if men were involved.)

Steve was asleep, laying rigidly flat on his back despite not having been limited to an Army cot in years. The sun glinted against his golden hair, and she resisted the urge to run her hand over it, not wanting to wake him. Instead, she pulled button-up shirt from his closet on, leaving the scrubs she’d commandeered from the hospital on the floor, and headed for the kitchen. The coffeemaker was simple and similar enough to the ones she was used to that she was able to get a pot started, after locating the bag of coffee in a cabinet. A quick peek out the front door (after checking for anyone looking in the hallway; she was aware of the security risk) revealed no newspaper on the doormat, which was a shame. Steve’s laptop was on the table, but she hadn’t used a computer in years, and even then it had been one of the big ones in the nursing home where someone had already turned it on and helped her log into her email. She had had a bit more luck with Google searches and saving her favorite news websites, but that had more to do with her understanding of Boolean expressions through codebreaking and programming, decades before anyone dreamed up Google. 

She was younger than some of her grandchildren, but couldn’t figure out these damn computers. She’d have to learn, that and everything else that young people did. It was almost enough to make her tired at the thought. She’d programmed computers in the forties, for heaven’s sake. Then the computers got small and difficult. And turned into phones that weren’t really phones anymore. 

Peggy sighed at herself. No matter what the mirror might say, she was old. 

She was on her second cup of coffee when Steve joined her in the kitchen. “I made a full pot,” she said. “I knew you’d be up eventually."

“I was going to cook you breakfast,” he said, and yawned. “I never sleep this late."

“You must have needed it."

“After last night? Probably.” He smiled, and leaned over to kiss her. “So, how many eggs do you want?"

“Oh, none, thank you. I’m not really a breakfast person, not since my youngest moved out,” Peggy said. 

“More for me, then."

“Do you get the newspaper?"

“Only on the weekends.” Steve took the carton of eggs from the fridge. There wasn’t a lot of other food in there. “Usually I just read the headlines on my phone."

“Well, I want to start getting caught up on the world, since I’m back in it."

Steve cracked eight eggs into the pan. “I think I still have all my bookmarks from when I was trying to get caught up. I can pull them up on the laptop for you."

“I’ve only got a few years to cover, thankfully,” Peggy said and smiled. She got up and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I'm actually  more used to reading briefs, when I was the director, so I may ask Sharon to get a few of her less-busy resources to draft briefs for me. I’m more interested in SHIELD’s involvement, so any analyst who can bring together the public record and the leaked SHIELD files would be best."

“Hill might be able to point you in the right direction, since she’s basically managing what’s left of SHIELD resources these days…"

“Thank you for the offering your bookmarked pages, though,” Peggy said belatedly. “I just have my habits, you know. When you’re in charge of an intelligence organization you don’t get much of a chance for leisurely reading, and a pile of briefs is much more useful to me than anything else."

“I’m sure it is,” Steve replied, and slid the fried eggs out onto a plate, then doused them heavily in hot sauce. Peggy winced as the vinegary smell drifted towards her, the accompanying spice burning her nostrils, but she knew Steve would probably think it was just a pleasant kick. “I haven’t had to deal with that side of things too much, on the strategy and operations side. I’m not sure I’d be too good with the diplomacy."

Peggy snorted. “Stick with your strengths, Steve.” She imagined him in some of the delicate situations she had managed; negotiating operational freedom between autocratic countries sounded explosive, with Steve in the middle of it, yet she had not come to it as a natural, either. “After the war, I had to deal with a lot of men who didn’t know my value, and I tended to charge right through any battle, to show I could punch as hard as they could. But sometimes I had to be more sneaky to get done what I wanted, and… well, you grow into the diplomacy."

“I guess you would,” Steve said. “You’ve lived quite a life, it just feels different now that—"

“That I look like I did when we met?” Peggy asked. 

“That you talk like you did,” Steve said. “You’ve told me stories, over the past few years, but they were just things that happened in the past, if you could remember all the details. Now you’re talking like the director of SHIELD. Hell, you sound like Fury combined with a few of the NSA divisional directors we’ve collaborated with, and maybe a few State Department officials thrown in."

Peggy raised her eyebrows. “You did read my CV at some point, didn’t you?"

Steve laughed. “It looks a little different on paper than sitting at my kitchen table."

“And you didn’t even read the classified CV,” said Sharon, coming around the corner.

“Goddammit, Carter, can you stop breaking into my apartment?” Steve complained.

“Romanoff said you didn’t mind,” Sharon countered. “Hi, Aunt Peggy."

“Romanoff is consistently full of shit. Especially when she’s talking about me."

“Hi, Sharon. You know, you’re going to have to drop the ‘aunt’ sooner or later, before it gets strange,” Peggy said over Steve’s grumbling. 

“Probably, but I’m not used to all this yet,” said Sharon. “I brought you clothes. I had to guess the sizes, but I figured these had enough stretch to make up for anything being the wrong size. I don’t want to cut your morning short, but we’ve got a meeting with Hill."

“I thought we might,” Peggy said, and stood. “Give me fifteen minutes to shower and get ready, and we can go."

“I’ll only take five minutes,” said Steve. “And can you return my spare key, please?"

Sharon let out a laugh. “I don’t need a key, Rogers."