#you threaten to break up with him like semi seriously to knock him off his bullshit and he shits his pants has nightmares about it for weeks

[katasstrophy]

okay but what if the only reason rin and sae are (forced against their will) to be (somewhat) civil with each other in their adult years is because their gfs are ride or die besties that would rather leave their (petty) asses than compromise their friendship

[joonie-beanie]

Game Night

Pairing: Leviathan x Reader

Word Count: 5,826

Preview: You and Levi have a game night once a week, in which the two of you get a...little too competitive.

So, when you decide block Levi's line of sight in a desperate bid to win the game, well. You get what's coming to you.

** Please note that this is a cross-posting **

This chapter was originally posted on 5/29/20 as a part of my “Devil Doms” series on AO3.

It’s kind of become tradition—that once a week, you and Levi have a game night.

At first, it’d simply been you helping him with dungeons or runs for supplies in a game you really had no idea how to play. When you’d complained to him about it, saying you wanted to challenge him in some way—to show him that you were actually good at some games—he’d dug out the Devildom’s equivalent to games like Super Smash Bros, and Mario Kart.

He hadn’t really considered the idea of you being able to best him before then. Leviathan was used to you struggling with the controls—being a good distraction for enemies as he snuck past to get whatever rare item was held in that level.

Now, when your kart zooms over the finish line just seconds before him time and time again…he starts to go a little crazy.

Your game nights quickly go from semi-calm dungeon runs, to Leviathan jumping to his feet—cursing at you, the game, and himself as he attempts to get his anger under control before his demon form claws its way to the surface.

Before, you may have been scared to see the otaku so full of frustration, with his horns and tail threatening to sprout from his body, but now? Now, you feel giddy at the sight—full of pride each time you manage to beat him.

You know that you have a bit of a…sadistic, bratty side to you. It’s fun to watch Levi get so frustrated over losing to a “normie human” at a video game that shouldn’t be hard for him to win.

To be fair, you had warned him before playing that you had lots of experience in games like this, but he hadn’t believed you. So, it’s his own fault for getting beat by you, and you’re sure to tell him that—laughing at the way he angrily pouts when hearing so.

It’s been a few weeks since your switch in games, and tonight—like every other night—Leviathan is determined to win. He’s already got the title screen of the game loaded by the time you knock on his door and step into his room.

His eyes immediately flit to you—gaze raking you from head to toe. Beneath the pile of snacks and drinks in your arms, he can see that you’ve once again decided to arrive in your pj’s, and deep within his brain, a part of him feels like screaming.

It’s not like your pajamas are unseemly—an oversized t-shirt and a pair of black shorts is hardly an outfit to feel scandalized over. And yet, Levi finds himself inexplicably attracted to the outfit—relishing each peek of the tight, ass-hugging shorts when your shirt rides up ever so slightly.

Seriously, game nights are both his favorite, and most frustrating part of the week.

“Ready to get your ass kicked?” you ask, dumping the snacks in your arms onto the side of his desk. Rather than look at you, he busies himself with picking a snack and drink to start the night off right.

“I wouldn’t sound so cocky, if I were you,” he finally mumbles when he hears you dragging his old gaming chair over (he’d pulled it out for you a while ago, and tends to shove it in the corner until game night rolls around again). “I’ve been practicing.”

“Is…that something you should really be admitting?” you ask with a laugh, your eyes shining with amusement as you lean forward to peek at his face. “You basically just acknowledged that I’ve been kicking your ass so bad that you need to practice in your spare time.”

“T-That’s--!” he’s immediately flushing red, wishing oh-so-badly that he could shut you up as you openly laugh at him. Despite your teasing, however, your bright smile is genuinely happy. You enjoy spending this time with him, and the realization makes him feel warm, but in a different way.

“Just…s-shut up, normie…”

He reaches forward and grabs your controller, shoving it into your lap, and you giggle quietly—flashing him another smile that has his heart doing a tiny flip.

“Sooo~,” you speak, relaxing back into your chair as Leviathan grabs his own controller. He clicks out of the title screen and onto the main menu. “Best of five, like usual?”

He nods, and you watch the screen as he picks which courses he wants to race. (You’d told him before that you’d let him choose the tracks, since you’d beat him either way. He hates the advantage, but nonetheless uses it.)

After picking the tracks, the character selection screen pops up. You go to your regular—a black and purple character named “Shroom” (the first time you’d see the off-brand Mario characters, you’d gotten a good laugh), and decide to stick with the basic kart (which secretly drives Levi insane, because how the hell do you manage to beat him without picking a kart with the best functions?!)

Levi, unsurprisingly, goes for the princess, “Cherry”. He takes time building his kart—choosing only the superior parts—and finally, once he’s ready, the race begins.

He hunches forward in his chair—his forearms resting against his knees as he dials in on the computer screen. You glance at the demon, lips tugging at the corners fondly at the sight of him.

It’s cute how much he wants to win.

On screen, you hear the countdown begin, and quickly turn your attention away from him. As much as you want to watch his every reaction as he desperately tries to best you, you can’t. Right now, you have to win.

Tightly gripping your controller, you turn your eyes to the computer screen. The race starts.

Slowly, with each passing level, the game begins to descend into chaos. When Levi wins the first level, it’s impossible to keep a smug grin from coming to his face. However, at the sight, you’re quick to reassure him not to get too cocky, and—sure enough—you kick his ass on the following track. He ends up coming in 6th after you hit him with two consecutive red shells, and when the race ends, you can see the veins in his hands beginning to bulge from how hard he’s gripping the controller.

“Want to take a break?” you ask, half serious, half teasing. His response is to start the next level, so you take that as a “no”.

The conclusion of the third race is much closer—only a .8 second difference in your finishing time, but you still come out on top. The near tie has Levi quietly cursing up a storm—remarks about “stupid normies” and their “stupid games” filling the space around him.

You decide to keep your mouth shut this time—figuring it’d be best to not push him for once—and simply smile to yourself as the next race begins. The fourth track is perhaps one of the most difficult, but you manage to traverse it well. At least, until Levi trips you up on a borderless curve with a banana.

As you go tumbling off the course, Levi jumps happily in his seat—grin breaking out on his face. A little too competitive for your own good, you kick your leg out and hit him on the side of his calf. He yelps, but it’s already too late. His kart rolls over the finish line, and he’s immediately turning to glare at you.

“Hey! No kicking!”

“I mean~,” you hum innocently, finally finishing the race. “We never exactly established a rule that says we’re not allowed to physically interfere with each other.”

“It’s basic gaming courtesy!” he argues, squeaking in surprise when he hears the countdown on screen. You’d started the final race without warning him!

“Y/N!”

“Whoops~,” you feign innocence, tongue poking out of your lips determinedly as your kart revs to life. The two of you fall into silence, eyes locked on the computer as you desperately attempt to best each other.

When you finish the first lap, you’re ahead. The second lap, however, Leviathan finishes two places ahead of you. Frowning unhappily, your leg begins to bounce nervously beneath you.

You hate that Leviathan actually manages to make you so damn competitive. You’re never like this with anyone else, and usually you wouldn’t be feeling so frantic to win, but tonight is different. A burning desire to come out on top takes over your brain, and as the final stretch of the last lap appears on screen, you find yourself pressing to your feet.

Levi, immersed in his own desperation to win, doesn’t realize you’ve moved until your body appears in front of him. It’s a seriously petty move—standing in front of someone to block their view—and almost immediately Levi’s anger gets the best of him.

The frustration that had been building beneath the surface lurches forward, and within a split second, his demon form materializes.

You squeal in surprise as his tail wraps tightly around your waist—dragging you back into his lap. Your controller clatters to the floor, and your kart rolls to a stop just short of the finish line. Levi—who had already been in the lead—finishes in first.

The room goes quiet save the sound of NPC’s overtaking you and finishing the race, and your heartbeat drumming loudly in your ears. Levi is scarily still beneath you—the edge of his controller pressed against the center of your back. You can feel him puff out a heavy breath—the hot air fanning against your neck and shoulder.

“L…Levi?” you question when you manage to find your voice. He doesn’t speak, but instead you feel him shift. His hands move, the sound of his controller being carefully set on the edge of his desk reaching your ears. Then, his tail loosens around your waist, and for a brief second, you think he has finally calmed down. That notion, however, is quickly thrown out the window.

Rather than releasing you, the appendage snakes upward—curling around your neck. Your breath hitches—both nervous, and somewhat aroused—as his tail grips tightly at your throat. The pressure is enough to let you know he’s pissed, but not enough to choke you.

“Do you have any idea,” he starts quietly, his voice carefully measured as he speaks for the first time in what feels like minutes. “How hard this is for me?”

One of his hands falls against your lap, his fingers curling into the soft flesh of your inner thigh and giving it a squeeze. His touch is rough, yet holds a hint of nervousness. He’s always been flustered by physical contact, and has never gone out of his way to touch you.

Yet, now you’re sitting in his lap, with one of his hands one your inner thigh, and the other lifting to hover over your clothed breast. His fingers twitch—as if he’s holding himself back from touching you in all the ways he wants—and you swallow the lump in your throat, your tongue peeking out to wet your dry lips.

“How hard what is?” you question, biting your lower lip as you watch his hand slowly lower onto your chest. His fingers splay across the mound of flesh, giving it an experimental squeeze, and you inhale shakily.

“This,” he says, his tone almost a whine. His nose presses into your hair, getting a good whiff of your sweet scent, and for the first time you notice something stiff pressing at your ass.

Levi is getting hard.

The realization has you turning all sorts of shades of red.

“You come to my room, wearing your stupid little shorts, and looking at me with your stupid little smiles that make my heart feel like it may burst right out of my chest.”

The hand on your thigh begins stroking softly over the skin there—inching closer and closer towards your womanhood, and your breath catches.

“I…,” his breathing stutters, his voice becoming softer with embarrassment. “It makes me want you. Makes me…c-crave those cute little blushes, and makes me want to taste your pink lips and…c-claim them as my own.”

His tail marginally loosens around your neck, and you take a deep breath, completely aware of the way your heart is racing within your chest. You’ve always felt something beyond the line of friendship for the Avatar of Envy, but you’d never known he’d been struggling with those same feelings.

“Levi--,” you open your mouth to speak, but he silences you as his tail tightens around your throat—even tighter than before. You gasp, a whine building in your chest as his touches suddenly turn rough again—his nails digging into the sensitive flesh of your breast and thigh.

“But then,” he continues, his voice darkening with anger, as if he’s just remembered why exactly you’re in his lap in the first place. “You tease me to no end. Rile me up just because you can…”

His tail winds tighter around your neck, his other hand falling to grip your thigh as he grinds you against his crotch, and you struggle to breathe. He’s rock hard—his cock pressed flush against your ass.

“You try to sabotage my win,” there’s a growl in his voice, and suddenly you’re reminded of the time he nearly killed you over TSL.

“L-Levi,” you gasp, voice pitched high as your brain begins to fog over from lack of blood flow “I…I’m sorry. B-But you still won.”

“I did, didn’t I?” You can hear the sudden smile in his voice, like he’s just realized that despite your interference, he still won the game. “Then what do I win?”

Emboldened by the victory, he grinds you back against his cock one more time—letting you know what he wants as his prize.

“You…you can have me,” you tell him, voice quiet. He breathes a shuddering breath against your hair, as if he doesn’t believe what you’ve said.

His fingers dig into your thighs, like he’s trying to ground himself.

“Are you sure?” his voice is no more than a whisper, and yet you can hear his internal struggle. On one hand, he wants to tear your clothes off your body, bend you over, and stick his dick into your hot, wet pussy without any type of warning. But…on the other hand, he knows he’s not totally himself right now. He’s riled up thanks to the competition, and your efforts to make him lose, and he doesn’t want you agreeing to let him have you just because you feel you have to.

Luckily, you don’t leave him worrying for long. Your hands drop into your lap—fingers slotting atop Levi’s where his hands rest on your inner legs. You give his digits a gentle squeeze, freely rocking your hips back against his hard-on—and a needy moan bubbles in his throat.

“You won, Levi. Claim your prize. I want you to.”

“Fuck.”

His breath hitches, and suddenly his tail has unfurled from around your throat. You’re quick to suck in a mouthful of air, your hands instinctively rooting in the fabric of Levi’s shirt as he scoops you into his arms.

Within seconds, your back is dropped onto the pillows lining the inside of his bathtub-turned-bed, and Leviathan cages you in—his hands resting on either side of your head as he kneels above you. For a moment, he can only stare—still a little disbelieving that you’re allowing him to have his way with you.

Your cheeks flush under his intense gaze, and you lift your palm to cup his cheek.

“You don’t have to hold back, you know…,” you mumble, eyes shying away from him. “As the winner, you can have whatever you want.”

“Please stop trying to kill me,” he retorts with a tiny whine, capturing your lips in a kiss. He’s a little sloppy, and a little forceful, but you don’t mind at all. You’re quick to wrap your arms around him—angling your head so your mouths slot together.

Levi moans against you, his hips unconsciously beginning to grind against your own in a desperate bid for friction. As you nip at his bottom lip, one of your hands moves downward and sneaks between your bodies. You cup Levi’s bulge with your palm, his body instinctively rocking into your hand, and another pained sound leaves his lips.

“F-Fuck, Y/N--,” his voice is breathless, and needy. As he grinds into your hand—your palm sternly pressing his cock against his own hip—you feel something slick and heavy begin to curl up your leg.

Immediately you shiver, your gasp lost against Levi’s tongue as he steals your breath away. Before tonight, you had never considered all the things the Avatar of Envy’s tail could be used for, but apparently, its versatility is not lost on Levi.

Within seconds, the appendage has scaled your legs, and managed to hook beneath the waistband of your sleeping shorts. Levi groans against your lips as you squeak in embarrassment—your pelvises bumping together as you gingerly lift your hips in order to help the demon out.

Soon, you’re naked from the waist down—only covered by your oversized sleeping shirt, which Levi seems desperate to get out of the way.

With a red face, you watch him as he softly slides a hand beneath your shirt—his hot palm resting against your stomach. His pupils—which you note are now narrowed like the eyes of a snake—shake as he slowly hikes his hand higher—his fingers coasting against your skin. Your breathing hitches as he does so, but you find your gaze trained on his face—monitoring his reactions.

You’ve never seen someone so embarrassed, yet distressed by his own arousal. To you, it seems like Levi is constantly torn between running away, and giving into the deep, dark, perverted feelings he’s always kept to himself.

You bite your lip as his fingers finally skim up the valley of your chest. The cotton fabric of your shirt pools above your breasts as the sensitive mounds are finally revealed to Levi’s hungry gaze. His amber eyes start at the top, and drag their way down.

He reaches his hands out as he surveys you with his full attention—his fingers curling around your ribs, and his thumbs just barely brushing up against the underside of your breasts. Licking his lips, he slowly begins trailing his fingers down your sides. Levi takes note of every dip and curve, relishing the feel of you. And when his hands finally find your hips—his eyes falling to space between your legs—he visibly swallows.

His movement is hesitant, but he lowers his hands between your bodies and presses his thumbs at the folds of your pussy. You turn bright red beneath him—because even though Levi is obviously embarrassed as well—you’ve never had any person just spread you open before, and yet Levi does.

He peels you open, and you know you’re already wet. You don’t want to admit it, but him choking you had been a huge turn on, along with pretty much everything else.

Face burning, you lift your arm and partially shield your face. Levi is slow to notice. It seems like he’s in a trance.

Still keeping you spread with one hand, he shifts the other and curves two fingers between your walls—making you gasp.

Finally, his eyes flit up to you—taking in your cute blush, and the quick rise and fall of your chest. The swell of your tits, and your nipples that are hardened from arousal…

And here he is, knelt between your legs with two of his fingers in your pussy.

Which is wet.

For him.

In that moment, any of Levi’s reserves are stripped away.

You can sense the shift in him—see it as he jolts into action. He moves quickly—perhaps a little overly excited about what is happening.

Finally, he seems to have realized that yes, this is all real—and yes, he has consent to fuck you.

“L-Levi--!” you squeal as his tail suddenly curls around your ankle, tugging you closer to him as he hurriedly shoves his pants any underwear down his thighs. His cock springs free—longer than he is thick, but the veins along his shaft are prominent, and his length visibly twitches as Levi settles himself between your legs.

The head of his cock is already wet with his pre-cum, and you get the feeling he’s not far from coming. His breathing is shaky as he presses himself against your entrance—the first few inches of his length sinking in without much protest—and you groan happily.

“F-Fuck,” he bites, his voice pitched high as he pulls his hips back and then grinds in again—this time fully sheathing himself within your heat. His entire body visibly shudders—his face red, and eyes clouded with lust.

You suddenly feel somewhat shy beneath him—your thighs spread, and his cock stretching you out so deliciously.

“Kiss me,” you tell him, voice quiet, and Levi blinks. The next moment his lips are on yours. You quietly moan into him—accidentally breaking the kiss when he thrusts inside of you.

“O-Oh my god,” he groans, his hands finding your waist as he sits back and begins fucking into you with vigor. You raise an arm to shyly cover your face once more—your breasts bouncing at each intense thrust of his length inside of you—but Levi won’t have it.

His tail snakes up your body, wrapping around your wrist and tugging it away from your face. You startle, unable to do anything as the appendage searches out your other wrist and successfully drags it above your head. Within seconds, your wrists are pinned away from your face—and you can no longer hide your reactions from the demon above you.

“Make more sounds,” Levi speaks—somewhere between a beg and a command. You open your mouth to retort, and he purposefully fucks into you hard, effectively ripping a cry from your throat. Immediately your face flushes red in embarrassment, but the sight has a smile tugging at the corner of Levi’s lips

His dick throbs inside of you.

“Nnn--!” The Avatar of Envy continues thrusting into you. His motions are quick, and damning. Each thrust as you gasping and whining—pleasure thrumming in your gut. However, as your impending orgasm begins to build, Levi’s hips stutter, and his cock suddenly leaves you. Your gaze flits to him in surprise, watching as his dick visibly jumps. Then, he’s spurting his cum against your lower stomach—painting the soft skin streak after streak.

His breathing is harsh as he begins to come down from his high—his cock starting to soften, and honestly, you’re not mad. Sure, it would have been nice to cum along with him, but more than anything you’re happy that Levi had gotten what he needed. After all, he had won the ga—

You’re knocked out of your thoughts as the tail around your wrists suddenly tugs you upwards. It lifts you higher and higher—until you’re left on your knees, with your hands held high above your head.

“Levi?” you question, gaze falling on the male as his eyes shine.

“Huhuhu~ I’ve always wanted to do this,” he says, sounding far too giddy as he sinks into the tub and settles on his back. You’re about to ask him again what the hell he’s planning when his tail yanks you forward. Within seconds, you’ve been repositioned atop Levi, with your thighs caging either side of his head.

You feel your entire body heat up as you realize his intention—his hands lifting to grip your hips.

“Le-vi!” your voice hitches as he drags you down onto his face—his tongue lapping heartily between your soaking folds. He groans at the taste of you, his nails sinking into your skin as he keeps your womanhood thoroughly trapped against his mouth.

You feel him lick against your clit—the demon flicking the head of his tongue against the sensitive bud, and you take a sharp inhale. Your wrists strain against his tail, but you find yourself completely at Levi’s mercy as he begins eating you out like you’re his favorite food.

“Mmm~,” he moans happily, enjoying the way your body wriggles in his hold—wanton little cries falling from your lips. Applying a bit of pressure, begins rocking your hips back and forth against his face.

“Fuck,” you pant, feeling hot all over. Despite being embarrassed at your current position, the pleasure in your gut is rapidly building thanks to the demon’s bafflingly good oral. He spends most of his time on your clit—lapping, kissing, and sucking the bundle of nerves. But every so often he presses his tongue into your pussy, making you groan, and causing you to buck against him.

 Quicker than expected, you find yourself on the brink of an orgasm—your pussy writhing against Levi’s mouth.

“I—I’m gonna--,” you attempt to warn him, and he hears the hidden plea within your breathy words. Don’t stop. And he doesn’t—his tongue flicking quickly against your clit. You cry out, pussy throbbing and muscles tightening. Your body momentarily stills, a stifled moan caught in your throat as your orgasm finally arrives—a brief moment of peace before you find yourself tumbling into your pleasure. And Levi draws out your bliss as long as he can—his lips wrapping around clit and sucking. You gasp, floundering in his hold as the pleasure borders on oversensitivity, but Levi refuses to release you—not yet.

It’s another minute before he lets up—convinced by your tiny, desperate pleas that you can cum no more—your clit twitching with aftershocks against his tongue.

His hands release your hips, and you suck in a deep breath of air—your chest heaving as you struggle to regain your coherency. Your mind is hazy—body slumping forward tiredly (because god, that was one hell of an orgasm).

You whine quietly when Levi’s tail pulls at your arms—lifting you up so that Levi has just enough room to scoot out from beneath you. You can hear the cushions and blankets of the tub shifting behind you as the demon moves around.

“Mm,” you make a small sound as his tail finally loosens a bit—allowing your arms to drop forward. Your fingers grip against the edge of the tub—thighs shaky as you support your own weight for the first time in minutes. However, when a few seconds pass and his tail is still wrapped around your wrists, you pause.

“Levi?”

His response is to saddle up behind you—his now-hard cock settling against your ass. You freeze in surprise.

You…hadn’t expected him to get so aroused just from eating you out. He’s back at full mast.

“Levi,” you whine as his hands find your ass cheeks—squeezing them together around his cock.

“Y-You said I could have—ah—whatever I want,” he reminds you breathlessly.

“But—”

“Just…o-one more time,” he begs, and you gasp when he moves his hips—his cock finding its way between your wet folds. When the head of his length brushes up against your clit, your entire body shakes. You’re still extremely sensitive from your orgasm, and your body feels like a bag of bones, but nonetheless you find yourself nodding your head.

He did win, and you want to fulfill his desires best you can.

At your submission, Levi is quick to act. He shoves his cock inside of you without warning, and you gasp—your fingers tightening around the edge of the tub. The demon moans—hands firm on your hips as he begins thrusting into you. In the same beat, he drags your body back onto his cock.

Lewd, wet sounds fill the space between your bodies—your arousal slicking Levi’s cock as he fucks you—and he groans.

His pace is less frantic than before. His motions are smoother—his hips rolling against your ass. The motions manage to draw a moan from your lips, and you start to become lost in the feeling of his cock stretching your walls open.

In fact, you’re so focused on how good it feels to be full again—the head of his length finding that sweet spot within you and pressing against it with each thrust—that you don’t notice when his tail unfurls from around your wrists.

You do realize it, however, when the tip of his tail presses at your lips. Your previously closed eyes shoot open—a gasp of surprise muffled by the scaled appendage as it snakes its way into your mouth.

“Mmph--!” your whine of protest is lost. His tail fills your mouth—moving out of sync with his thrusts—and your eyes roll back when he ventures too deep and causes you to gag. The gag, however, also causes your pussy to clamp around his dick, and Levi moans.

“Oh my god.”

His tail begins to fuck into your mouth with a bit more fervor—pressing into your throat and causing you to gag every few seconds. Each time, you hear Levi’s breathing stutter, and you know he’s drawing closer and closer to his orgasm.

Despite how fucked out you feel already—spit sloppy against your chin, with your body slumping tiredly against the edge of the tub—you begin to feel your arousal building as well. As tired as you are, your body is somehow ramping up to another orgasm.

Honestly, you wouldn’t mind not cumming, though, you think to yourself as tears threaten to spill over your bottom lashes. You can sense that your clit is still overly sensitive, and you feel like you may actually fade out of existence if another orgasm rips through you.

So, you quietly decide that if you don’t cum, it will be fine. Levi, however, has different ideas.

The base of his tail curves—resting against your clit as the appendage continues to fuck into your mouth. You immediately cry out—body writhing—because with each thrust of his tail between your lips, he’s now also rubbing against your clit.

“Nnn!” your arms give out beneath you, broken sobs wracking your chest. Levi grunts, and you feel him shift forward—his chest pressing flush against your back as he readjusts his position.

“So good. You f-feel so good,” he pants. His breath is warm against your neck, and his arms wrap around your chest. He holds you tightly against him—his arm circled just beneath your breasts—and you gasp as he begins fucking into you once more.

His tail, which had also stilled, resumes its motions. The brief moment of rest is over, and you’re once again left crying around the scaled appendage. You reach your breaking point within a few seconds—tears finally streaking down your cheeks as the demon forces you to choke around his tail once more. Your pussy clenches around Levi’s dick—and with a few more rubs of his tail against your clit, you’re cumming.

Any remaining strength in your body disappears, your body going limp in Levi’s hold as you shudder—your orgasm tearing through you.

Knowing that you need to breathe, Levi removes his tail from your mouth, but doesn’t let you go. He keeps you trapped against him, his cock working inside of you with a few desperate thrusts, and then, finally, he cums as well.

The Avatar of Envy empties inside of you with a spent, but satisfied groan—listening to your quick, shuddering breaths as you attempt to recover from a lack of oxygen.

“Thank you. Mmm, t-thank you so much. That…I…that…mmm,” he’s left mumbling against the skin of your neck, his hips still pressed to your ass. You feel him going soft inside of you—his cum beginning to leak down your thighs—but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

The only thing keeping you from passing out right then and there is the purple haired demon, and his quiet, thankful praises.

“I’m glad you got what you wanted,” you eventually whisper, your hand lifting to pet against his head. He nods against your neck, shuddering when he finally slips from inside of you.

With a grunt of effort, he sits back onto his knees, and then grabs your waist. Soon, you’re both laying tiredly beside one another in the basin of the tub, and you glance over at the Avatar of Envy. At some point, he had removed his hot clothing, so now he lays completely bare beside you—his pale skin flushed, and sweaty.

You can’t help but smile at the sight of him, and when he notices you’re staring, he blushes.

“What?” he mumbles, rolling onto his side to face you. You giggle tiredly, your palm reaching out to cup his cheek, and your tender gaze makes him melt.

“Nothing. I’m just…happy. You’re cute.”

“…you can’t just say that,” he whines, but nonetheless presses into your touch. You laugh again, but choose not to comment. You don’t want to suddenly have him feeling all self-conscious after all of…that.

“We should do that more often,” you comment, hoping to reassure him that you enjoyed yourself. You roll onto your side, spent, and snuggle into the pillow beneath your head. You know you’re filthy and in need of a shower, but right now, you seriously can’t move.

After a few seconds, an arm hesitantly wraps around your waist, and you feel Levi’s chest press against your back.

“D…do you really want to?”

His voice is quiet, but full of hope. You nod, snuggling back against him.

“Yeah. It would certainly make game night more exciting for the both of us.”

At that, he finally giggles. Levi’s arms wrap tightly around you, giving you a squeeze, and he makes a sound of contentment.

Within a minute, you’re asleep in his arms, and the Avatar of Envy is quick to follow you into dreamland, but not before pressing a kiss to your hair.

“You’re cuter,” he mumbles, barely audible, and then he’s gone as well.

The week following your ecstasy filled game night is…amusing. Well, at least for you.

Anytime Levi sees you, he turns bright red, and—more times than not—pops a boner.

He’s left running around, trying to preserve his modesty, while his brothers wonder if he’s okay. You tell them that he’s just…disgruntled…when thinking about your last game night, and—knowing how competitive Leviathan can be—they buy it.

Each time it happens, however, you’re left giggling to yourself—wondering exactly how a boy who fucked you silly can be so damn embarrassed by his own dirty thoughts.

It’s honestly adorable.

And you can’t wait for next time.

[sorcererinthestars]

I’ve been attracted to the idea of the Fakes all holding some sort of elemental or energy powers. (Maybe this is because it’s been so gray and I’ve been thinking of the warm ones... hah!) I put this together while bored at work - I’d love to see what you guys think! Geoff: I see him being able to interact with shadows. He is not necessarily in control of night and of blackness more totally, but those gray areas where light can’t quite touch. He is often seen with more than one shadow and he can call them out to do things for him, almost like having doppelgangers with no faces at his beck and call. He can blind enemies with his shadows, blend in, and even make them semi-solid to hold people or trigger objects. When he wants to hide, he can become shadow-like himself, semi-spectral and transparent. Jack: Jack has plant magic. (If you’ve ever seen Sky High, consider her elemental control like the main girl there.) She can command plants. Normally she’s peaceful, not liking to use her powers for the more... diabolical parts of her life. Human weapons are far more effective for that, she insists, using her powers instead to nurture her multiple houseplants into lushness or care for the street plants of Los Santos. But when threatened and in danger, her powers can become vicious. She can have vines smash through windows and restrain enemies, she can grow plants and trees through her victims, she can choke and restrain and maim. Don’t underestimate Jack just because she tries to be peaceful. She has one of the most brutal magics of them all. Michael: Michael has fire magic for sure. The problem with him is learning to control it and manifest it properly without collateral damage. He’s burnt his loved ones too many times to count and it’s made him somewhat frightened of using his abilities until Geoff sits down and works with him on it. His power is obvious destruction - he can burn down buildings, create raging infernos - but also life and light. He can cradle small flames in his palms, light up dark areas, and provide warmth and heat when they don’t have it. Geoff constantly reassures Michael that his powers aren’t just for death and destruction, don’t need to hurt and burn his lovers as well as his enemies. It’s life. It’s warmth. It’s protection.

Gavin: If Geoff is shadow, Gavin is light. His powers are remarkable, contained in such a slight form. He glows slightly all the time, a side effect he cannot shut off. The Golden Boy image is an extension of that. When he is excited, he lights up like a Christmas tree, glowing and shining. But when he’s mad, his eyes go liquid white and light just streams out of all his orifices'. He blinds. He scalds. He burns from the inside out, power radiating out of every pore. When he’s mad, he’s not human, he’s some otherworldly creature ripped from some part of heaven. Jeremy: J is stone. He can manipulate rock, break it, crush it, move it. His personality is as rock (hehe) solid as his element, warm and steady even as he is shoved around in the craziness of the job that they do. He’s pretty unchangeable in his opinions and steadfast in his loyalties and provides a good counterpoint for his two hotheaded companions - as they melt and overheat, he is a steady presence to keep them grounded. But god forbid if you get him angry. He can crush rocks beneath your feet, slam enemies with boulders, crush and hit until bones are just dust beneath his feet. He is extremely strong even without using his command and almost unbreakable. Unfortunately, even like stone, there is a point where they will break under the pressure - good thing his family is there to pick up the pieces. -

Fiona: As breezy and lighthearted as she is, Fiona is wind. She blows around, flitting and jumping between interests as if she’s a leaf tossed and turned on the breeze. Airy and flighty, she’s always quick for a laugh and a good time. But her powers aren’t just for blowing hair around or teasingly causing minor chaos knocking things off shelves - she can steal the air from a person’s lungs, call down typhoons that can level small buildings and rip cars off the street, blow enemies off their feet and away, hurl things and cause massive, devastating amounts of destruction. The first person who underestimated FiFi was the first one to die. Alfredo: Fluid and adaptable, Alfredo is water. He goes with the flow, easy-going and ready for anything. Normally he’s the first one for a good laugh, trying not to take the world so seriously as some of his compatriots do. He and Michael tend to get on head to heads a lot, but they also grow close, as Alfredo is one of the only people Michael trusts to practice his fire around. While preferring his trusty sniper to get the job done, Alfredo isn’t just a man of rivers and streams. He can cause typhoons, manipulate the water in someone’s blood to make them do what he wants them to do, can freeze water into daggers that rip a man from toe to tip. Fredo is always a man ready for a laugh, but god forbid that fury comes out. Trevor: If Gavin is the manifestation of liquid light, Trevor is night. He bonds with Geoff, which is likely what gets him the job as the day to day frontrunner of the Fakes. He is secretive and quiet when he’s not dominating the show. While he’s happy go lucky as much as any of the others, there’s a quiet darkness somewhere around his soul. And when his powers are activated, he bubbles up with dark energy similar to Gavin’s light. He can plunge a room into pure blackness, he can suck the warmth out of people, he can blind and freeze. But his darkness can also be warmth and protection, cloaking those he loves in dark to keep them from menacing eyes. Matt: Matt is electricity. A man with lightning behind his eyes, he can and will shock all who underestimate him. While normally quiet and arguably lazy, he can keep going for hours, run on his own eternal battery that never goes out. His power source is in his soul, making sleep almost unnecessary. To avoid power surges and other dangerous phenomenon, he tries to keep himself mellow, but if he does get mad, watch out. Lightning storms are common around an irate Matt Bragg, sparks leaping from one finger top to another. He can fry electronics with a hand, overload breakers, steal power from any object that runs from electricity. He can be zapped and never feel it and woe betide you if he touches you with that current in his body - hearts can’t take Matt Bragg. Lindsay: Lindsay is both as slippery and steadfast as metal. Like mercury or quicksilver, she can melt metal with a touch of her hand, molding and shaping it into whatever she wants, as well as being able to rip it down and create walls and protective barriers for her friends and family. While enjoying being a menace by bending guns, breaking locks, or otherwise causing minor damage, she’s normally the fastest one to fix broken devices and remove damage. She’s normally booked solid fixing dents and scratches in the boys’ cars. As with the others, though, horrors unfold for those who make her mad or threaten those she loves - she will incase you in a metallic tomb and watch as you die.

[lokidrabbles]

Tolerance (Loki x Reader)

After Loki is injured in battle, him and reader share their first kiss together

A/N: Another short one shot focused on more relationship building through dialogue between Loki and reader. I’ve had this one in my mind for a while, I hope you all enjoy. As always, gender neutral reader!

Warnings: None, fluff and general cheesy flirting

It was hard to believe that Loki, or Thor for that matter, would ever become seriously injured during the small scuffles between the Avengers and anyone wanting to cause trouble in the city. The Asgardians were tough, that went without saying, and although a new wave of criminals and super humans were making themselves present in the world, it was nothing out of the ordinary for the brothers.

The news of Loki being sent to the infirmary after having a semi-truck thrown at him both surprised and worried you at the same time. Actually, you knew exactly how it had all gone down based on the reports you had gotten back from the accompanying agents that same day. In the intensity of the battle, one of the suspects with considerable inhuman strength had flung a full sized semi-truck at Loki, knocking him out for a good while. Of course, Loki recovered slowly with a couple of scratches on his face, but Thor was more than insistent about his brother being properly attended by the ‘healers’ at the facility.

You empathized with Thor. He had taken his role as the overprotective older brother rather well after the loss of Asgard a year ago, and you knew he’d just about do anything to make sure Loki remained in one piece. You could picture Loki’s gigantic pout when he would indeed be admitted to the facility’s care unit to make sure no serious injuries had been present. Even for an Asgardian, you figured there would be caution to take when blacking out in the middle of a fight. Unsurprisingly, nothing serious appeared other than Loki being extremely furious and uncomfortable getting poked and prodded by all the nursing staff. You knew it would be in his favor to remain compliant with all the procedures so Thor would settle down over his well being. Their relationship was admirable, but mostly hilarious.

You made sure to take a visit to Loki in his room after work to humor him (he’d appreciate that), but mostly to also make sure he was telling the truth about being without injury. You supposed you also took a protective approach to him, knowing he’d be out there within the front lines of danger. And yes, you were fully aware that Loki was just as tough as Thor and would probably need more than an 18-wheeler to fully take him out, but the nagging thought of ‘what if’ continued to pester you throughout the day.

When you arrived, Thor was still very present by his brother’s side. You slapped your mouth to hold back a snort once you took a look at Loki. He appeared very out of place laying in that hospital bed and you could tell by the twitch in his brow that he was aching to get the hell out of there. Thor had apparently gone on a tangent on how he was victorious in the battle, praising his quick thinking and strength to get everyone out of a sticky situation (Loki included.) From your time getting to know the dark haired Asgardian, you knew one of the most irritating things to him was Thor boasting about himself when it was clearly not asked for. The pout you had imagined earlier was worn all over his face.

“Hey there Asgard entourage, I’m glad to see the both of you are doing well.” You said out loud, hoping to save Loki from his brother’s rambling.

“Was there ever any doubt?” Thor asked cheekily, causing Loki’s eyes to roll to the back of his head.

“I mean, it’s hard to imagine for anyone around these parts to survive a blow like that.” You mentioned while raising your brow at Loki.

“Norns, is that really the news of the day? Mortals tend to obsess over the most mundane of things, it’s rather annoying.” Loki commented while rubbing his temples.

“Oh, you know the Midgardians brother, they collectively work together to ensure everyone in the team in safe and sound. And that includes you too, my honorary Avenger.” Thor replied while giving a quick jab at his shoulder.

You had to give it to Thor despite Loki’s interjections. While he was still in one whole piece, you could tell he was very worn out by the altercation. His hair was a matted mess (though you would never tell him), his cheek had a notable scratch you imagined would completely scar and heal in a couple of days, his eyes were darker and heavier than usual and part of his forearm had been bandaged up tightly. It was a first for you, seeing Loki semi-damaged after battle. You knew worse had been done to him, but the nagging thought continued to bring you closer to his bedside.

“Ooh, Avenger. I like the sound of that.” You said teasingly, following along with Thor’s own.

“You know, I believe this visit has met its limit already. Why don’t the both of you maybe, get lost somewhere far, far away from here?” Loki asked through gritted teeth.

Both you and Thor made a very dangerous and irritating team against Loki, and your sniggering only caused the God of Thunder to roar out a boisterous laugh. Loki was in hell. 

“Very well brother, I’ll take your word.” Thor said while wiping away the tears forming in his eyes. “You are certain you are completely well, correct?“

“Please leave already.”

“Not until-” Thor said and then cut off as he raised his fish and landed a rather loud punch on the side of Loki’s shoulder. You saw Loki’s body flop to the side and back, biting his lips in the obvious tremendous amount of pain he was in. As tough as he was, you’d imagine taking a punch from Thor would still hurt like hell. Brotherly love after all.

“Make sure he rests well, don’t let him out of your sight.” Thor commanded to you while walking out of the infirmary, leaving both you and Loki.

“Sorry about that, I couldn’t help it.” You said, clearing the humor out of your throat. “You want me to leave too?

“You’re fine, as long as you don’t throw at fist at my shoulder either.”

You winked at him and made yourself comfortable in a chair beside his bed. “You’re rather cute when you’re being the little brother.”

“I think I’d rather not be called ‘little brother’, especially coming from you.” He said while propping himself upwards. You immediately caught onto his shallow breath. Was he in pain?

“Thor’s got a point though. You do look like hell. I mean, I know it’s not anything life threatening, but even I can tell that fight took a lot out of you.”

He scoffed, and then bit his lower lip. “Rather shameful I can’t tolerate stuff as well as I could in my youth. I’m alive, but my back has been tormenting me.” 

“Youth huh? What, like a thousand years ago?” It wasn’t a stupid question, but it caused him to chuckle.

“You say like that’s an eternity ago.” He replied, turning his neck carefully to look at you. “You’ve made me feel quite old now mortal.”

“Oh please. You’re still in your prime and I’m sure you know that. Just admit it’s not about you getting old and about getting knocked the eff over in battle. It happens to everyone. Err, every super being.”

“That’s a very odd way to want to cheer me up, but it is appreciated regardless.” He commented briefly.

“If it gives you any respite, I am glad to see that you’re doing well, albeit from a couple of scratches.” You said genuinely. “And no I won’t go off on a tangent like Thor. “

He remained silent for a bit and his piercing gaze remained on you. “You shouldn’t need to worry about me, especially with the weak foes we encounter on this planet. I’ve lived for thousands of years. I’ve had worse.”

A crooked smile formed on your face. “Well, thanks. But it’s just hard to shake away that worry. Take it from your brother, this is something you’re just gonna have to deal with every time something like this happens. The unfortunate thing is you’re gonna have to deal with me pestering you too.”

“Thor can be intolerable, but I wouldn’t mind it at all from you.”

You didn’t know if it was the mood of the room or your gut instinct, but it was certainly something you had longed to do for some time. You felt your body stand and lean over to his face . His eyes followed along with your movements with no intention of stopping you. You got closer to him, allowing you to briskly kiss the side of his cheek. His skin felt soft on your lips only for a brief moment and you pulled back before making things even awkward. Both your eyes and his instantly connected, unable to break away from the line of sight.

You were unsure of what he’d make of it and you’d know to be wary about Loki rejecting your advances or simply revealing to you he is not interested in you in an intimate way. But the thought of him being injured, or possibly losing him in battle encouraged your to be a bit more bolder with your intentions. You knew it wouldn’t be nothing unexpected or uncalled for and you only hoped he wouldn’t completely be put off with your actions.

“That’s rather bold of you mortal.” He said with a cunning smirk. “Yet, you seemed to have missed my lips, if that’s what you were aiming for.”

You beamed at his response, but played well at remaining cool about it. “Hmm, what’s in it for me? How good are Asgardians at kissing?”

“Only the best in the nine realms. Too coy to find out for yourself?” He asked.

You had a hunch he’d be very flirty once he’d be more comfortable around you and it almost seemed to easy to just give into the gratification of kissing him.

“Wait, are you serious?” You asked, wondering if he was messing with you or simply giving into the moment as well.

“Were you not?”

“No, I mean, I am serious. I just didn’t think you’d feel the same. We’re always just dicking around with each other, it’s hard to tell.”

“I don’t throw my lips just at anyone you know. Consider yourself lucky human. Now, come on over.”

He reached over the back of the head, just to pull you closer to him, finally allowing you to have much desired taste of him. It was aggressive at first, but you then felt him soften, as if also wanting to savor the flavor of your own lips. You pulled back again, catching your breath. You saw how his lips remained parted, practically begging for more from you, but you held yourself back from possibly jumping on the bed along with him.

“Okay, that was pretty good.” You managed to say.

“Now that is something I’m still very talented at.” His arrogance at no bounds at times, but you secretly enjoyed that part of him.

“So I don’t need to tell you about how I feel about you, right? Because that would be excruciatingly painful to do at the moment.” You admitted to him, doing your best at hiding the redness in your face.

“Hmm. I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want...yet, perhaps it would make me feel better since I am quite sore from that battle. A morale boost, won’t you agree?“

“This was a mistake.”

He grinned widely and you knew he would milk every single thing out of this as much as he could. “No need to be modest. You can tell me what’s the best thing about me. Perhaps my looks, or my sorcery? Perhaps my intelligence as well? Of course, there’s just so many things to consider.”

“Uh, sure.” You said reluctantly.

“You’re no fun.”

You giggled, pecking him really quickly on his cheek again. “What I can say is that you’d look really, really good getting some rest for the rest of the day. It’s tempting to see you laid out here, but I think I’d prefer to see you strolling around with that eccentric cape of yours in tip too shape.”

“I suppose that would be wise thing to do. Honestly, I just need a few hours. I should be more than fine tomorrow. I promise.”

“Good to hear. Come visit me at my office tomorrow then, yeah?” You asked, making your way out of the infirmary.

“Of course...and thank you.”

---

[itsallmightbitch]

Stitches (Part Two)

Ya’ll, I wasn’t planning on posting this yet but when I actually checked, I realised that if I didn’t- Part Two was going to be over 12,000 words. So I had to split it again. So, you can look forward to a Part Three! I also, sort of, accidentally maybe, wrote a teeny tiny lil’ bit of plot. 

Tagged: @kittygonyan​ @mrsreina​ (If you’d like to be tagged in Part Three, give me a shout!)

Pairing: Villain!AllMight x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Blood, Swearing, Threats of Non-Con (Not made by our boy All Might and not said explicitly though).

Word Count: 6800+

Summary: A phone call makes you question just how the biggest bad in Japan feels about you. You discover just how All Might was injured and things get just a lil’ bit steamy.

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

He was gone for over half an hour and you’d spent that time preparing the dressings you’d need for him. The wound was in a semi awkward place- just below the dip of his collarbone, so you’d had to dig out the gauze tape.

All the while, you attempted to calm the rapid, dizzying beat of your heart.

 Those damn breathing exercises that Ivy had taught you were doing jack shit, especially with the feeling of his hands still imprinted firmly on your hips.

 Were you really going to do this tonight?

 It wasn’t as though you hadn’t danced around him for months now, the unyielding pull of his orbit spinning you closer and closer until the inevitable collision. But as you stood on the precipice, feet towing the line and looking into the abyss… there was still some trepidation.

 Was he just doing this to prove that he could get into your pants?

 Where the hell would it even go? He was, at his core, a villain and nothing you could do or say would ever change his nature.

 Not that you would want to. You weren’t here to ‘fix’ him in any other way but physically.

 Yet, despite all of the reservations that swam in your head, you couldn’t deny the chemistry that had always bubbled between you. Especially in those moments that you forgot just who he was and he was just idling around your apartment with you. Those moments made you just as hot as when you saw him pummelling some wannabe hero on TV.

 Making him coffee while he fixed your kitchen sink. Actually… finding out that he could fix a kitchen sink had been jarring enough. Bickering over which movie to watch, when you knew he was going to win like he always did- but arguing with him for the fun of it anyway.

 That day you’d found out that he did a fucking wicked impression of Endeavor and you’d howled with laughter- then caught him looking immensely proud of himself afterwards.

 Even now, the memory of it made your lips quirk in a stupid smile.

 Seeing that side of him made it so easy to separate him from the man the rest of the world saw. They weren’t privy to all the things that made him unique. Would it really be so wrong of you to give in?

 The filthy promise he’d made still rang in your ears.

 Slow, hard and all night long. Your thighs clenched in anticipation.

 Your phone buzzed cheerily on the side table and the coffee you’d made for yourself in his absence sloshed against the side of the mug when you jumped.

 An unknown number usually meant one of two things. Either All Might was calling you to ask how to perform some horrible mutilation on a person without them losing too much blood- or Ivy was calling for a chat.

 Since the former was currently using up all of your hot water- seriously, thirty five minutes now- you correctly guessed that it was the latter. You answered, immediately perking up at the sound of her voice.

 “Babes, is that beefy idiot of yours there? His little henchmen have been tearing apart half of the city trying to find him,” she said, not even bothering with hello. You tutted. Of course he’d just up and vanished without giving anyone a hint that he was okay.

 “Hi Ivy,” you said pointedly and you could almost hear her roll her eyes at your insistence of politeness. “Yeah, he’s here.”

 She grumbled.

 “Ugh, will you please tell him to call off his goons before I have to kill any more of them for disrespecting me,” she said, like murdering henchmen was all too taxing for her. You knew differently. She was probably enjoying the change of pace. You half smiled, shaking your head.

 What exactly was your life? Passing messages between villains like some kind of sentient answering machine.

 “Hold on. He’s in the shower,” you said, escaping the soft light of the living room and heading in the direction of the still -goddamn it- running water. His clothes were piled where you’d told him to leave them and you were oddly touched to find that he’d arranged them in a way that the bloodied parts weren’t on your carpet.

 He could be considerate when he wanted to be.

 Biting your lip, you eventually worked up the courage and knocked on the door. You knew that he was grinning from ear to ear, probably expecting you to barge in and simply toss your panties over your shoulder while you were at it.

 Hmm. There was plenty of time for that later.

 “Did you miss me already, sweet thing? Am I that irresistible?” he said, his tone all deep and buttery and the image of him stark naked and soaking wet stole your voice for a moment. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was taking so long because he was- taking care of himself.

 Your stomach whirled pleasantly at the thought of him stroking a hand along his thick-

 “Hey! Don’t forget to tell him that they have like, zero manners. I’m appalled at how rude they all are. This is no way to treat a lady!”

 Ivy’s irritated voice turned away from the phone for a moment. A crunch and a half-halted scream told you that she was more than handling herself against All Might’s minions.

 You licked your bottom lip, squeezing your eyes shut and trying not to picture him behind the damn door again. Otherwise you’d never get out the words you needed to say. You’d get your chance to join him later, when your dumb obligation as his doctor wasn’t coming first.

 “Um, Ivy says your little minions are out of control again. You might want to deal with that, big guy,” you informed him and you heard him swear loudly, a colourful mix of words that would have made a sailor blush.

 The water, at long last, shut off.

 You hadn’t really considered what would come next, despite the fact that he’d clearly left his pants- and by extension- phone right next to where you were standing.

 The door opened and you suddenly had a face full of muscular, soaking wet chest. You barely even noticed his smug expression, too busy trailing your eyes down and focusing with laser like precision on the trail of blond hair that started at his bellybutton and vanished underneath his towel.

 All Might had a fucking happy trail. How had you not noticed it earlier?

 Oh yeah. All the blood.

 You had died. You were dead and buried and this was Heaven and of course your version of Heaven would have a soaking wet, naked super villain in it.  

 Every brain function ceased and all you could register was the heat of the steam billowing out from behind him and the aching urge you now felt to catch the lone water droplet that was rolling down along his abdomen with your tongue.

 It dipped into his bellybutton then out again, before soaking into the towel that he’d slung low around his hips.

 “You know, as much as I’m enjoying your reaction sweetheart,” he rumbled, openly amused by your gaping, idiotic staring. “I do need my phone before I lose any more men to the sewer rat.”

 “I fucking heard that, you jackass!” Ivy screeched and you were brought back to reality, aware that your face was now glowing red.

 He leaned down past you and fished his phone from his pants pocket and you could feel the sweet, water warmed heat of his skin as he passed so close to you. You resisted the urge you suddenly felt to throw your legs over your head.

You didn’t even know if your legs could do that and Ivy might not appreciate having to wait any longer for a reprieve.

 When he straightened up, he grinned at you and it was… different than his usual cocky smiles. This one was toothy and almost soft and his free hand came up to your chin, gripping it much like he had earlier. Except this time, it wasn’t to threaten you.

 It was to bring your lips to his in a nipping, hard kiss that took the air out of your lungs.

 Hnnng.

 “Soon kitten,” he murmured, biting your bottom lip once more playfully. “Don’t forget, this was your bright idea.”

 He winked at you before retreating back into the bathroom. You remained standing on the other side of the door for a long moment, cursing yourself for being so worried about him when you could be splayed out underneath him right now- morals be damned.

 You only remembered that Ivy was still on the line when you heard her voice asking if everything was okay.

 Fuck, it was more than okay. Not long from now, you were going to have that between your legs. More than ever you wished you hadn’t skipped all those yoga classes because this was going to be... challenging. 

Said legs carried you shakily back down the hall and away from the temptation to break the door down while you waved your bra over your head. 

Sexy.

 “He’s um- he’s calling someone now,” you cleared your throat, choosing not to sit on your bloodied couch and instead canting your hip against your dining table. “Sorry Ives. If I’d have known he was AWOL I’d have made him call sooner. I know what those idiots are like…”

 His henchmen were notorious for running riot without him there to rein them in. He was, surprisingly, like seventy three percent of their impulse control. It was a shame he lacked any himself.

 “You know, I’m not even surprised any more,” she tutted. “He could have at least let one of his lackey’s know before he went and squared up against- wait-” Her voice paused just as she reached the bloody good bit and you fought the urge to interrupt. “Maybe he’s been too busy to phone anyone… Wanna tell me what you’ve been up to?”

 Ivy knew what had gone down tonight by the sound of it. But she was also distracted and you knew you would get nowhere without indulging her curiosity first.

 “Oh yeah, he’s been super busy getting a big ass gash on his shoulder stitched up. Not much time for phone calls,” you hedged slyly. Ivy didn’t need to know he’d also been busy with his mouth on your neck while you attempted not to moan like a a porn star. Definitely a detail that could be left out.

 “Not going to lie sweets, I was convinced you were going to say getting a blowjob.”

 “Fucking hell, Ivy.”

 “What!? There’s nothing wrong with getting busy after a life threatening situation. I’m amazed that you both have so much restraint,” she said and despite your irritation over these villains all up in your personal life, you couldn’t find it in yourself to disagree with her out loud. “You said he was all sliced up? Did he tell you how he got it?”

 Interest?

 Piqued.

 “No! He’s being really secretive about it,” you said hurriedly as though Ivy would hang up on you at any second. She wouldn’t but you were far too eager to hear this story and your brain refused to function normally. “Do you know?”

 “I’m not technically supposed to, but well… henchmen talk darling, especially under the threat of pain…”

 “Ivy spill,” you said, dragging the word out into a whine. Ivy loved to tell a tale but you were impatient now. You wanted to hear what had happened before he came out of the shower. Not just because you didn’t want him to catch you snooping in his business but also because there was the promise of fantastic sex to come too.

 “Oh sweets, do I have a story for you,” Ivy squealed gleefully. Your heart beat hard in your chest in anticipation and you hoped that she wouldn’t drag it out too much. “I hope you’re sitting down for this because it’s just, mwah-” she made a kissing noise and you snorted.

 “Ivy, come on. While I’m still young.”

 “Tut tut, there’s no rushing a good thing. Or do you like it fast?” she teased, flirtatiously.

 You rolled your eyes and tutted into the phone, not in the mood to be teased. At least… not by Ivy.

 You checked over your shoulder- in case All Might had snuck up on you or was lurking in the doorway. He had a habit of doing that, just to make you jump. But he was nowhere to be seen, probably still on the phone, berating one of his second in command for their bad behaviour.

 You hoped it was Shigaraki getting a talking to. That guy gave you nothing but bad vibes.

 “So, I take it you remember last week, when you and I dished about that weirdo you treated? You know Hinata Cash?” she said his name almost cautiously as if worried that being too quick would bring back the memories before you would be able to handle them.

 You made a strangled noise that could have been agreement as your brief but memorable encounter with Hinata Cash came rushing back from the deep, dark part of your memories that you’d shoved it into.

 A chill raced along your spine.

 “Are you okay, sweets?” Ivy asked cautiously.

 “M’fine,” you said, clearing your throat. You wouldn’t let the mere mention of the creep make you uncomfortable. Ivy still paused until you reaffirmed that you were okay with talking about him though. “What about him? Is he still being a disturbing son of a bitch?”

 Your bravado was all show. You both knew it, but Ivy continued like she bought into your act.

 “Well, it turns out he was quite the talking point in some circles... Not enough to play with the big boys like your honey bun,” she said, probably giving the phone a shit eating grin. You didn’t even berate her for it and the teasing tone she’d aimed for fell away awkwardly. “But he was doing enough to get himself noticed. He’d started coming in to the Golden Cat on weekends. A few of the girls there told me about him…”

 “All good things, I bet,” you said, rubbing your arm nervously. There was really no reason to feel nervous, not with your door locked and All Might in your bathroom, but that didn’t stop tendrils of unease winding around your neck.

 “He started going by Scissorhands- Ugh, it was tacky if you ask me,” she sniffed primly. Never let anyone tell you that Ivy wasn’t a class act, you thought fondly. Still, the name made your insides twist uncomfortably. From what you’d seen on the snippets of news reports that day- he’d certainly lived up to his chosen name.

 You had never been truly frightened in all the years that you’d been treating criminals. Even during that first meeting with All Might, you had never felt like you were in any immediate danger- so long as you kept your mouth shut and remained respectful.

 But Cash…

 He was the type to cut your throat because he didn’t like the colour of your curtains or some shit.

 His entire visit had deeply unsettled you and set you on edge for days afterwards. Even now, despite the fact that he hadn’t delivered on his ‘promise’, you couldn’t really settle.

 Every movement he’d made that day, every little twitch of his hands had caused your body to recoil and had it not been for the tight hold you had over your Quirk, you might have done more harm than good.

 Thankfully, it had been a straight forward procedure but from the way your body trembled, you’d have thought it was your very first time all over again. He’d picked up on your nerves from the moment he’d sat down, leering whenever you flinched.

 Glass and debris had become embedded directly under his left eye from the bank robbery he’d partaken in, just hours before. It had been on the Channel Five news, which was partly why you were so on edge. His fingers had still been bloody from the security guard he’d literally torn apart.

 Heavy set, with wide shoulders and contrasting sharp features, you knew that had he made a move that day, you wouldn’t have had a chance to fight him off.

 The shaking of your hands had thankfully been negated by your Quirk.

 Precision wasn’t the most amazing Quirk in the world but it was particularly useful in your line of work. Being able to hit your target despite the shaking of your hands had saved you precious time.

 Quick, yet terrified, you’d cleaned up his face and as politely as you could, tried to see him out. But his hand had clamped down on your thigh, too high for comfort and your whole body froze- your eyes staring unseeingly past him.

You couldn’t breathe in anything more than quick, frightened gasps. He seemed to revel in them.

 You felt like a rabbit in the jaws of a wolf, seconds before the deadly bite.

 He’d leaned in close, his breath repulsive and sour and you’d thought of a million ways to escape in those few seconds- none of them even remotely useful.

 “I really appreciate this, Doc. It’s hard to find a woman with steady hands like yours...”

He had lifted one of them, examining it. 

“Wonderful quirk. So useful... I can see why All Might likes you so much. I think I quite like you too.”

 You had prepared for the worst. Mentally written your last will and testament and prayed to God that when he was finished with you he would just leave Marco be- the thought of him harming your cat suddenly far more prevalent in your mind than what was going to happen to you. 

Strangely though, he’d simply gotten up from the chair, stroked your cheek as you sat there like a statue and then let himself out. Not before throwing his parting remark over his shoulder, though. The one that had been haunting you all week.

 “I’ll see you again real soon, honey.”

 Naturally, you hadn’t gone after him for the payment he’d skimped out on.

 Hell to the no. Instead, you’d locked your front door, hyperventilated for a good fifteen minutes on your living room floor and then much to your embarrassment… you’d called All Might. 

For the first time ever.

 You had passed the call off as some dumb suggestion that he come over for pizza and a movie, like you were best friends and not potential-fuck-buddies. You hadn’t even had the strength to hide the tremble in your voice, nor the will to throw in any bravado. It had been a brutally honest call- one that you had never wanted to make.

 It was like letting him see the real you. Removing that final barrier between you that might hold you back from feeling anything real. That conversation had changed something, you thought. Something deep.

 “H-Hey! I know I never call like this but... I-I… Could you come over?”

 Your voice had been small and shaky, with you on the verge of tears- even though you would rather die than let them fall over someone so vile.

 There had been a pause on the other end, mid-way through whatever sarcastic thing he’d been about to berate you with.

 “Please?”

 You had added that without even thinking about it, voice catching and the grip of Cash’s hand still burning on your thigh. You had thought, in that silence, that he was going to brush you off. Either that or demand to know what was wrong. Thankfully, he did neither.

 “Ten minutes.”

 The longest ten minutes of your life. He had found you pacing a hole in the floor of your living room and petting the ever-loving bejesus out of Marco- stressed to the max. You’d locked eyes with him and he hadn’t even had to ask if you were glad to see him. Your face said it all.

 He hadn’t asked what had happened and you hadn’t told him… but he’d stayed anyway. A real villain, that one.

 “Sounds about right to me,” you scoffed, tone disgusted at the thought of that… that man. “Ives, I don’t scare easily, you know that... but I know full well what he wanted and it wasn’t a back rub. What does this have to do with why All Might turned up injured?”

 You felt unsettled at having him brought up out of the blue. You’d been quite happy to forget all about him and the way that his gaze had made your skin crawl.

 “Everything. The word should be getting out any minute now, about our dear departed Tim Burton knockoff.”

 You paused, startled and unsure if you’d heard her right.

 “Departed?”

 “Oh, he’s very, very dead darling,” Ivy said lightly, as if she was just telling you the weather for the day.

 The relief that washed over you was momentous and almost made your knees give way, causing you to grip the table for support. He was dead. You were free of the lurking shadow of fear that plagued your days and nights. The one that robbed you of decent sleep because you were jumping at every little noise in your apartment.

 “Is it bad that I just wanna say ‘Oh thank God’?” you replied, breath knocked from you. Ivy laughed. She sounded just as pleased as you felt.

 “You won’t be the only one, I’m sure. He must have put up a halfway decent fight, if it took you that long to stitch up a little old cut,” she said, pointedly as though waiting for you to work things out. She was probably disappointed that she didn’t get to see your reaction when you did.

 Oh. Holy shit.

 “All Might killed him!?” you squeaked, then lowered your voice drastically in case he heard you. “Are you fucking with me right now, Ivy? Because that’s not cool.”

 You didn’t really know how to feel about it, if it was true. You were more than relieved that the looming shadow of Cash was gone forever but regretful that somehow, All Might had found out what you’d tried to keep from him and had gotten himself hurt in the process of doing something about it.

 “It’s true,” she said, confirming it. “You and I both know I hate giving that overrated blowhard any credit… but something had to be done about him. Cash had it coming, either way. There are plenty of girls at the Golden Cat who’ll be glad to see him gone.”

 You swallowed hard. Your silence was more you being concerned over All Might’s well being than over the fact that he had killed a man tonight. He’d killed plenty of people in the time you’d known him.

That wasn’t about to destroy the image of him that you had.

It was more the deep seated worry that always gripped you when he was involved in something dangerous. Usually, you could worry yourself sick over the news broadcast and at least then, if anything happened, you would know.

But tonight, he’d gone out there and gone one on one with a man who could rip people apart from the inside out- and you hadn’t even known. What if he’d never come back? What if he’d died because of you and word would get back to you, weeks down the line that you would never see him again?

Something horrid lodged in your stomach.

 “Won’t he get heat from other villains?” you asked to distract yourself, rubbing the top of Marco’s head as he trotted past- blissfully unaware of your minor breakdown. “Isn’t there some… I dunno… Code of conduct or something? Honour among thieves?”

 Ivy snorted, obviously amused at your blatant lack of knowledge. You would think that someone as deep into the criminal underworld as you were would at least know a little about how things operated. But no. 

You chose to remain blissfully ignorant.

 “Hmm, well here’s the thing. The King makes the rules and All Might, well… as much as I’m loathe to admit it, he wears the crown babes. Who the Hell is going to argue with him?” she asked and you bit your lip, the fear of retaliation lessening.

 It was no secret that he was both feared and respected- enough to keep even the toughest of the tough under his thumb. There wasn’t a Hero or Villain in the world who could realistically take him on, one on one, and win.

 That thought relaxed you and the horrid sensation lessened. It didn’t leave entirely, but it receded enough that you could breathe again.

 “Anyway, to cut a long story short… Cash wasn’t exactly secretive about what he liked to do to girls. He was always running his mouth and tonight, he came in absolutely singing about some pretty little Doctor that he’d fallen head over heels for…” Ivy said sourly, obviously not enjoying this part of the story.

 You enjoyed it even less. It didn’t take a genius to work out just who that Doctor was. Your hope that he’d just been trying to scare you when he threatened to see you again had been futile, apparently and you were suddenly so glad that you’d asked All Might to stay that night.

 “ You’re pretty well known yourself around here, sweets. Did you know that?”

 You hadn’t known, no, but you kept quiet.

 “It didn’t take long for a few of the regulars to work out just who Cash was talking about. Word got around like wildfire and eventually got to old Shigaraki himself. From what I’ve heard through the grapevine tonight, it took five and a half minutes from Shigaraki calling his boss, until All Might was storming the Golden Cat.”

 Damn, there had been you, badmouthing Shigaraki not ten minutes ago in your head. If it hadn’t been for him telling All Might, who knows what would be happening to you right now?

 You made a mental note to be extra nice to him the next time you saw him.

 The thought that Cash had been interested in you made you shudder, sickened at the thought of him even thinking about you like that. Your body felt grimy and you resisted the urge to run to the bathroom and scrub yourself clean.

 All Might was officially your fucking hero and he could pry that word from your cold, dead hands.

 Sure, he would be horrified at the implication but that didn’t make it any less true. Maybe that’s why he’d brushed off your questioning earlier, being difficult when you wanted to know how he’d been injured.

 You caught yourself grinning stupidly, attempting to hide it by biting your lip. You realised that there was no point. Ivy couldn’t see you anyway.

 “So, I think the message is officially loud and clear. No-one fucks with the good Doctor,” she laughed, all angelic and sweet and you beamed down the phone, laughing along with her. You felt a heady sort of rush as the realisation that you were safe again sunk in. That the villains you had helped and minded and treated like people over the years had heard that you were in danger and had come to the rescue in their own way.

 The realisation that… that he cared. Deep down, past his angry and irritable nature, he really cared.

 “Ivy, I-”

 Without warning, two large, muscular arms wrapped around your waist from behind and you might have jumped had All Might not buried his face into your neck and rumbled a low, lazy growl, like a bear waking up from hibernation. He nuzzled you with a deliberate slowness, lips pressing warm against your throat.

 “You still talking to the sewer rat?” he murmured, sounding annoyed because he knew you wouldn’t hang up on her just because he said so- and so he would have to wait as patiently as he could until you were done.

 On the other hand, it was an opportunity to rile Ivy up as much as possible.

 “It’s Vagabond, you overgrown man child,” she hissed down the line, all previous goodwill towards him gone from her voice.

 All Might ignored her, choosing instead to tug you back until you were plastered against his chest and he could lay his kisses along your shoulder- even though he still had to stoop down to reach. How did he even get so tall? Your breath caught in your throat, longing and gratitude fighting for the number one spot.

 He wasn’t going to stay patient for much longer and neither were you.

 “Listen, I gotta go, Ives. Love you, babes,” you said quickly and she cackled manically, well aware of where you were rushing off to in such a hurry. This was only proving her right. She would be insufferable for weeks now.

 “Love you too, sweets! Try not to break anything. Like the building.”

 You hung up to the sound of her laughter and turned in All Might’s arms, surprising him when you pulled him down for a kiss. You were long past the point of worrying about morals and right and wrong. There couldn’t be anything wrong in wanting him like you did. In knowing that he protected you and cared about you in his own way- no matter if he never said it out loud.

 He broke away, smirking.

 “Someone’s eager,” he ground out, hands sweeping up along your sides. His thumb brushed the underside of your breast and you pulled in a shaky, uneven breath. “I bet you’ll be fucking soaking…”

 Well, he wasn’t wrong. Those intense eyes trailed over your face, lingering on your lips until he locked his gaze with yours.

 “Thank you,” you blurted out, without meaning to.

 One of his eyebrows quirked, amused.

 “You’re thanking me for making you wet? That’s a new one on me sweetheart but sure. I’ll take the credit where it’s due,” he laughed cockily, one hand on the back of your head as he dove forward again and kissed you roughly. This one was all teeth and tongue and your knees shook, suddenly feeling thankful that he was holding you up.

 You moaned softly, powerless but confident under his touch.

 There was no pushing him back, no sliding your tongue into his mouth because the man was a force of nature and practically every inch of him was pure muscle. So you were content to let him take what he wanted from you, for now. Later you would find a way to turn the tables- to make him the quivering pathetic mess.

 Right now, all you wanted was to find out all of the ways he kissed.

 The angry ones, the lust filled ones, the sweet ones. The good morning kisses and the I’m happy to see you kisses and all the fucking kisses in between. You were off to a great start. You sighed, tangling your fingers in his hair and stroking your thumb in a circle on his scalp.

 He melted under your touch and deep down you revelled in the fact that he was just as affected by you as you were by him.

 “I um,” you stuttered, swallowing hard when you reluctantly pulled away from him. He looked as though he wanted to follow your mouth but for a change he let you speak. “I didn’t mean thank you for- for that.”

 “For what?” he asked knowing full well what you meant, his tongue darting out over his bottom lip.

 “For…” Your face heated quickly, without you even realising it.

 Without warning, a hand was shoved between your already shaky legs and he pressed upwards, cupping your pussy and dragging a half halting, surprised moan out of your throat. He almost took you off your feet and your fingers wrapped over his biceps to steady yourself.

 “For. What?” All Might asked again, applying pressure in all the places you needed pressure applied. Oh you were well and truly fucked and he hadn’t even gotten you naked yet.

 “Cause if you’re blushing now, kitten, then I can’t wait to see what you’ll be like when we really get going,” he continued, nuzzling along your cheek and rubbing his palm over your aching pussy. “M’not a mind reader. You have to tell me what you want. Where you want me. How hard you want me to pound into you. I wanna hear you sobbing my name like it’s the last fucking thing you’ll ever say tonight. Think you can do that for me? Hmm?”

 You were gripping his arms for dear life, trying to focus on the steady heaving of your lungs. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

 “Yeah, yeah, I can do it,” you promised, almost without hearing the words come out of your mouth. “I promise.”

 “Good girl,” he purred encouragingly and you just about lost your shit for a few seconds, along with any sense you might have had left as the praising words repeated on a loop in your head. “Now, I’ll ask again. What weren’t you thanking me for?”

 He was grinning wickedly against your cheek, eyes boring into yours.

 “For making me wet,” you responded finally, when your tongue no longer felt like it weighed a hundred pounds and you remembered how to speak actual words and not just garbled syllables.

 He groaned- actually groaned like you were the one touching him, instead of the other way around and it sent a shivering wave of heat spreading out at the base of your spine. Your clit throbbed mercilessly under the heat of his palm.

 “Christ kitten,” he said, voice hoarse. He didn’t pull his hand away like you thought he would though. You were still sensitive from your little dry humping session earlier and the pressure he was applying was agonising torture for so many reasons.

 You both knew he would pull away though if you even tried to set the pace. He’d made it perfectly clear that he was in charge.

 “Now, what were you thanking me for? You’ve got me all curious.”

 You felt dizzy and the words didn’t exactly come easily. The heat radiating off of his bare chest was intoxicating and so was the sight of all those well defined, rippling muscles so easily within reach. You indulged yourself, seeing as you hadn’t been able to earlier. You lightly trailed the pads of your fingers over his pectoral muscle and down at a steady pace, over the hardness of his abs and then to the tempting, glorious V shape that led under-

 Your smile came unbidden to you and he noticed, knowing immediately what you were grinning like an idiot about. He was wearing the pajama pants you’d gotten him.

 They were simple, nondescript pants like any guy would wear but… you’d gotten them in his favourite colour and he’d actually put them on.

 You’d expected him to either stay in his towel or well, just get the clothes out of the way entirely.

 “Yeah, yeah,” he snorted, releasing you when he realised that he’d gotten your attention in an entirely different way. The loss of sensation between your legs was more than worth it to see him standing there, a little awkwardly, with his arms crossed. “Don’t be a jackass about it, for fuck sake. I just didn’t want to have my dick out when I was eating dinner.”

 “Like that would bother you,” you beamed and he grunted something petulant that you didn’t hear.

 “You gonna tell me what you’re thanking me for, or what?” he said after a moment, ignoring the obvious erection that was tenting the front of said pants. You found it very, very hard to ignore but dragged your eyes up to his face after a moment anyway. His self assured smirk was expected.

 He knew how attractive he was and what it was doing to you. Damn him.

 “Cash,” you managed to say after a moment and it clearly didn’t answer his question. He looked at you like you were an idiot.

 “You… want cash? Here was me thinking you weren’t a whore,” he cackled, pleased at his own cleverness. You were less amused, punching him lightly in the arm. The shaking of his shoulders didn’t stop but at least he was no longer laughing out loud.

 You were trying to spill your heart to the big jerk and he couldn’t stop mocking you for more than five seconds.

 “Come on! Stop being a dick,” you scowled, arousal now tainted with annoyance. He rolled his eyes and scrubbed a hand over his slicked back hair, his laughter dying after a moment.

 “Alright, alright! Explain yourself, woman,” he swept his hands out, metaphorically giving you the floor.

 “Hinata Cash,” you elaborated, expecting the penny to drop. But when he continued to look lost, it slowly dawned on you that he’d never even bothered to learn the guys name. All he’d known was that he was going to do something to hurt you and… that had been enough for him to go on. Your heart thrummed in your chest. “Um, Scissorhands?”

 Much like they had earlier, his eyes darkened, flashing a sudden warning that it wasn’t something he wanted to discuss. Unlike earlier though, you ignored it. Answers to your question were just out of reach.

 “Why are you bringing up that motherfucker?” he asked gruffly, then swept past you almost dismissively before you could answer. He disappeared into your kitchen, his back to you. Not the reaction you had been expecting. The heated air had vanished- as had the playfulness he’d exuded moments before. “Way to kill a mood, doll.”

 You suddenly regretted opening your mouth. He hadn’t told you- and if he hadn’t told you, there had been a reason for it.

 “Shit,” you hissed softly to yourself, listening to him stomping around the kitchen behind you.

 You turned and followed him, pathetically useless against the part of you that longed to be near him. Besides, there was no taking it back now and you were burning up with curiosity.

 Why had he killed Cash? Why had he even bothered himself at all?

 Most of all, you wanted- no needed to know.

 Had he done it for you?

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

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three)

[soldierallen]

You’re a Tease.

Summary: your costar is henry cavill but you are romantically involved with chris evans and chris gets jealous of the time you have to spend with Henry, Chris storms into an interview.

Warnings: sexual content, teasing, kissing, cursing, and well smut. blowjob.

Y/n and Henry have been filming an action movie for a few months and you’re each other’s love interests, it’s been fun because Henry is the nicest sweetest most lovable guy in the world but she’s with Chris, she’s been with him since a year but never officially became boyfriend and girlfriend which made y/n mad it’s been this long and you still haven’t asked? do I mean nothing to you?,

“so our big scene is coming up” she raised her eyebrows flirtatiously he laughed as he sat in the chair drinking his coffee “he’s not gonna be here...right” Henry gave her concerned eyebrow she nodded her head no “he’s been acting weird lately” she sat next to Henry in the directors chair waiting for everyone to set the scene “a kiss in the rain, sounds romantic.” She said glorifying the moment ahead of them “don’t be nervous” he said sarcastically taking another sip of his coffee with a smile “shut up” she hit his arm, making the pair chuckle she didn’t realize someone was recording them “behind the scenes for later!” The DA says she smiled and waved to the camera and so did henry, this was it their big scene.

“don’t you understand?- we’re stuck in the middle of fucking nowhere because you had a HUNCH! come on jack! didn’t you think the outcome would’ve been bad! We’re alone in this!” she shouted over the rain as they tried to sit under a tree in the Forrest “it’s here I know it is! Don’t give up on me yet! just a little longer” he said shaking her shoulders “maybe I shouldn’t trust you anymore!! I’m done with the lies you never knew where you were going in the first place alexander was going to get the crown before you but no! you! Needed it first” she pushed on his chest angerly, he pulled her in with a bit of force kissing her, the scene calmed as they kissed her body up against the tree as his weight leaned on top of her she pulled away “jack” “I want you” jack says “all of you allison...every single bit of you since the day I met you” he kissed her neck and there clothes coming off-

“CUT” both actors pulled away from each other smiling “you did good jack” she bopped his nose making henry smile “seems like you enjoyed it” a way too familiar voice appeared around the corner “Chris” she shouted out henry handed her, her shirt he whispered “go” she jogged up whilst pulling over her crewneck “this is why you didn’t want me here?, because you had a kissing scene with henry?” he said annoyed “Chris I asked you to come and you said no I don’t wanna watch you kiss henry” he looked at her confused “you weren’t paying attention to me again, like you always do” she crossed her arms over her chest annoyed that he would accuse her of something like that “you know something I came here to see you, to see the one person I care about and you always have to have a snarky remark or something in the lines of that, don’t come over tonight I’ll do fine without you” and with that chris walked away... “what just happened” she screamed at him while he left she turned around and looked at Henry not knowing what that was about.

The movies finished, it’s been a few months edited. She’s tried talking to Chris and he never answers her calls or texts, he’s completely ghosted her it’s been months...

she smiled for the camera’s as she felt her heart break in her chest knowing he wasn’t here, he didn’t care.. apparently he never did. A hand grabbed hers by quite suprise it was henry of course she smiled at him and they hugged going into the interview, “that kissing scene in the movie is hot and heavy am I right?” the interviewer lady said making them laugh and y/n blushed thinking about their first kiss, her mind instantly taking her back to Chris. “yeah I mean we’re really good friends so it was easy to feel comfortable around each other” henry said “I feel chemistry between the two of you am I wrong? Come on!” she laughed and so did the two actors “we’re really really close friends and even before the movie we was close” she laughed he looked at her while she talked when an interuption came a door opening the three people turned their heads to the doors not sure what was happening “we need to talk now” Chris said as he barged into the room uninvited “you don’t get to do that!” she got up from her chair “I’m sorry please excuse me” she said to the interviewer pushing Chris out the door she closed the door behind her “what the fuck is wrong with you! Seriously that’s so fucking unprofessional” she was dumbfounded she couldn’t believe how much he embarrassed her.

“I love you, and it took me this fucking long to see it and I’m sorry I acted the way I did and I’m sorry I pushed you away...-when I saw you with henry I panicked he could give you everything more than I can” he felt threatened, “I wanna make things right I wanna be with the you I don’t wanna envy your costars I want you forever”

“You love me?” Her eyes teared and he pulled her in hugging her “that’s all you got from that” he smiled smelling her perfume for the first time in months, touching her hair feeling her “I love you to evans.” Her eyes twinkled “what I did was stupid and I shouldn’t of barged in-“ she kissed him a real kiss not a movie kiss however a real one for the person she loved. She loved Chris “be with me be my girlfriend with me” he gave her millions of kisses on her neck and her cheeks making her giggle and so did Chris “I should’ve never pushed you away that was me being an idiot.”

“I’ll be your girlfriend under one condition” he nods his head “you name it” his hands on her lower back holding her “you let me get back to my interview and I take control tonight” he smirked at her “yes ma’m” he let her go smacking her ass

she went back in the interview “you okay” henry mouths as the interviewer and crew are stepped away from the two she nodded “we’re good...” she sat down next to Henry “I’m really sorry” she apologized to everyone having to deal with a matter “it’s fine we can take it from where we left off” they both nodded.

when she got to Chris’s place she knocked on the door, he opened kissing her sweetly “I wanna show you something” she was confused he grabbed her hand leading her in and took her into the bedroom, he lit candles and had red roses scattered on the bed “chris” she said leaning into his arm “my apology for.. the last few months. Life without you was not worth it” she gave him a sad pout he kissed her lips his hand on her neck she slightly pulled away “on the bed” she ordered his looks were lustful, he sat on the bed she straddle him he went backwards a little bit making her laugh he tried unbuttoning her blouse she pulled his hands off “very handsy I see, not today” she lifted his arms pulling off his tight white t shirt showing his incredible body filled with tattoos she kissed his chest all the way down to his buttoned jeans she open the button with her hands pulling the zipper down her shoes came off, she unzipped her pants not taking them off “you tease” he said his breath hitching watching her she pushed her hands up against his cock “you’re already semi hard” she laughed “god I missed you” he moaned as he tugged on the sheets, his pants were fully off just in his black boxer briefs, she sat there teasing him through his underwear “fuck” he soft moaned she straddled him again pulling her blouse off “this is what you get for leaving me”

she stood up and pulled her pants down her bra and underwear still intact her mouth coming so close to his underwear only to go up his stomach he was smirking loving it, however he was upset, the teasing was making him nervous.. she pulled down his underwear finally let him hang free his cock hitting his stomach he was so thick she loved it “umm” she moans getting closer to cock he tried to move his hands to feel her and she pushed them away “no” she said straddling again she teased him rubbing herself on his uncovered cock, he bit his lip loving the feeling “I missed you” he moans, she moans too with a yes coming out “I wanna be inside you” he says she comes down to his ear whispering “I wanna feel you inside me” she whispered in his ear his eyes rolling in his head ready to feel her again, his hands tried to reach around to touch her ass she stopped him again “if you try it one more time, I’m getting off and making you watch” he nodded his head putting his hands back to the side she kissed him “I love you” she said, he smiled kissing her “I love you more” and with that she slid down her underwear climbing in his naked body, she slowly teased herself with his cock riding him not inserting it, god was he amazing his eyes were like stars watching her, he bit his lip to stop the moaning that he so badly to do. finally she lets herself push him in, sounds of moans coming from both of them loving the feeling so desperately “can I hold you” he asks she nods yes he finally puts his hands on her hips as she rides him slowly “fuck” soft moans leave his lips that turned her on even more hearing him be so vocal he tried to quicken her motions and she stopped him “you’re a very very bad boy” she said kissing his neck he kissed her neck her hands on his chest as she was straddled against him “you’re a goddess” the words left his mouth so swiftly she lifted herself “just for that you get to be on top” she smirked standing up so did he, she took her hand and stroked his cock a few times he pushed into her hand she let go seeing an evil look at his face “you’re gonna pay for that” he said with a smirk an evil evil smirk, they fixed their positions and he teased her hole only the tip of his cock entering she went crazy she laughed as he teased her finally he entered quickened his pace she was moaning like a pornstar at this point he rubbed her clit as he went in deeper and deeper every time hitting her in the right spot “fuck chris” her moans got louder he hummed with lust in his throat feeling her get tighter “you wanna cum?” “Come on baby” he moaned “yeah I wanna cum” she said “are you sure” he kissed her lips “yes yes” she moans through the kisses he quickens his pace “right there don’t stop” she screams

and she came, so hard she felt her whole body shake, she hasn’t came like that in months...he stopped watching her cum underneath him it egged him on he was getting closer she pulled him out as she got up he stood on his knees on the bed she got down sucking his cock she hummed for him to feel the viberations in her throat he pushed himself further in her throat feeling her gag on him he pulled out “you wanna cum in my throat” she asked looking up at him he nodded “yes princess” he kissed her lips she sucked until he came down her throat “fuck fuck” he screamed his moans loud, she smiled at him as he reached down and kissed her again “I’m sorry” he said “it’s okay” she knew it was still about what happened before they laid down next to each other and he got up getting her a towel wiping her down she smiled at him “you’re amazing” he kissed her again “and you’re such a tease” he laughed and so did she

[blissfullylostinarabbithole]

Duckling Pt. 8

Pairing: AU!Teen Wolf x Reader x AU!Avengers, Derek Hale x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Reader’s friends need to pick up some last minute supplies before their camping trip. Luckily, Stiles knew of a new shop along the way.

A/N: Plot requester didn’t remember the name of the film this is based on, so if you recognize it, let me know!

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Despite them still having to get through a week of school before they were off for spring break, Shuri already had her bags packed. She’d rubbed how much fun she was going to have in her brother’s face, since he was going to be stuck practicing lacrosse for the upcoming semi-finals.

T’Challa told her he hoped the Rogers’ forget her in the desert, and she sent Peter a playful glare when he laughed in response.

The chatter died down when Natasha unexpectedly sat at their table, hardly looking up from her tray of food. They all turned to Peter, who looked even more confused than they did. Shuri’s cousin, Erik, stood abruptly and left, followed by a couple of others, leaving their lunches behind.

Clint laughed nervously, pulling their food toward him. “More for me! Hey, Nat.”

“Hey,” she croaked.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Peter how both she and Brock had dropped in popularity since their breakup. He did fail to notice, however, that they seemed to have fallen to the very bottom of the hierarchy. He realized she hardly went out anymore, and he couldn’t even remember the last time he saw anyone speak to her.

“Shuri was just telling us that she’s all set for our trip, weren’t you?”

She picked up on his pleading tone, and nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I’m looking forward to it!”

Little by little, the conversation picked back up. Peter kept glancing nervously at his sister, hoping she wouldn’t be upset with him for forcing her inclusion. When she looked up at him, her lips twitching into a soft smile, he breathed a sigh of relief.

When the bell rang, signalling the end of lunch, Nat left without so much as a goodbye. Peter watched her leave, worry evident on his face. When he turned to look at the people who remained, they all turned away quickly.

After walking Shuri to her class, he headed toward his own, stopping when he heard Nat’s name coming from somewhere ahead of him. He recognized the voices as belonging to Clint and Erik.

“You didn’t have to be a dick about it!”

“I didn’t see you rush to extend your hand in friendship after!” Erik hissed. “Brock’s got a target on his back now, and-”

“Oh, come on!” Clint scoffed.

“AND so might she by association.”

“You don’t actually believe that crap, do you?”

“I believe what I know, and what I know is that anyone who crosses Hale ends up dead.”

“You don’t know that, that’s ridiculous.”

“Are you certain there’s no truth in it?” Erik challenged, and Clint didn’t respond. “Brock attacked his girl on that field. You know as well as I do it wasn’t an accident.” He shifted his backpack and walked away, Clint leaving soon after.

Instead of heading to class, Peter went to the nurse’s office. He was feeling a bit faint, so he was given some water and told to lie down while the nurse called his mother.

Peggy was there in a minute, and after failing to get any answers from him other than ‘I’m fine’, she called Steve to pick him up and instructed him to stay rested for the rest of the day.

He told his father his head was hurting, only to keep him from asking the same questions the nurse and his mother had already asked. Instead, he thought about Nat. He wondered if that was why people seemed to be avoiding her, and if she knew. Did she think her days were numbered, just like Erik did? Should he say something?

As concerned as he was, he somehow thought that would only make everything worse. He knew his family would take it seriously, and Shuri said herself they were only rumors, and not everyone believed them. 

Maybe he could talk to the Sheriff? He seemed nice. But what if he told his parents?

He groaned in frustration, leaning his head against the window.

Steve gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, assuring him they were almost home. 

Both his parents insisted he stay home the following day, and he didn’t have it in him to argue. He ate his breakfast in silence, and headed back to his room. Peggy asked if he wanted her to stay, but he’d said no, and she headed off to school with Natasha. 

Steve and Bucky asked if he wanted to go to the shop with them, but Peter said he wanted to nap and do homework, and that he’d be fine alone. They got the twins ready and headed out, reluctantly leaving Peter, staring at his window.

At first, he’d thought to try to sleep in, but as he’d had such a restless night, he didn’t think it was a viable option. He then took a page out of Shuri’s book and began to pack for their trip south. It didn’t take him long, though, and his mind went back to imagining the worst in no time.

Part of him knew his imagination was running away with him; how could so much death surround one person, and that person be let to walk free if he had been involved? That rational part of his brain fell to the back burner as the more gruesome thoughts took over, and unable to bear it any longer, dug through to the back of his closet where he kept his personal laptop hidden.

His parents thought he was too young to have his own computer, but Tony disagreed, and bought him one one day when he was visiting.

Peter turned it on now, biting his bottom lip as he silently urged the machine to boot faster. When it did, he began his search. 

First he started with a broad search of the crimes in Beacon Hills. Needless to say, he was a little surprised by the results. With the exception of a couple of names here and there, only recognizing the Sheriff’s, it was a dead end. Then he began searching by name, recalling the people Shuri mentioned.

All he found on Matt were lacrosse and yearbook photos, and that he’d drowned. There were no traces of drugs or alcohol in his system. There was no foul play suspected, and the accepted answer was that he’d fallen and knocked himself out in an unfortunate spot. There was no mention of Derek, or his girlfriend.

He searched Y/N Lang next, and there was even less to be found about her: a mention on a story about the lacrosse state championship, and a “Best Friends” photo in the Beacon Hills High yearbook.

Derek Hale brought him the most results, but it wasn’t anything related to the information he was after, and he didn’t know whether to be relieved or frustrated. He wasn’t explicitly mentioned the news about the fire that claimed the lives of most of his family, nor in the story about his sister’s death. 

All he found were several articles surrounding his achievements in athletics, and a “Cutest Couple” photo in the yearbook with a girl named Paige. They looked to be about Peter’s age in the picture, and he couldn’t imagine someone so young being capable of taking a life and getting away with it.

He thought about how he would feel if he lost Shuri. Not just her, but his whole family. The loss would change him, that was for sure, and he wondered if that’s what happened to Derek. And if the rumors weren’t true, he imagined that would’ve only made everything worse.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

You kissed Derek goodbye as he dropped you off at Stiles’ for your camping trip. He couldn’t go because he had baseball ‘camp’, which only meant the team had to practice during spring break while everyone else got time off. It was unfair, but as Derek enjoyed it, he didn’t mind. Thus, you learned not to mind, either.

Scott was already there, trying not to laugh at the speech Stiles was getting about being responsible with his things.

None of you were sure why you even took fishing equipment in the first place, since you never actually caught much. When you did, you would release it. It was more about relaxing and talking and splashing around in the water. A string tied to a stick would’ve served the same purpose.

Still, Noah reluctantly handed over the tackle box and rods, wishing you a fun and safe trip.

You packed all your things into the back of the jeep, recently cleared of the usual clutter of lacrosse gear, and waited for the others to arrive.

Stiles nearly choked on air when Allison pulled up in her dad’s SUV, and saw Lydia sitting in the passenger seat. Scott pat him on the back, urging him to keep it together. Apparently, the only way Allison was going to be allowed to go, was if Lydia went, too. 

He rambled on and on about how he was finally going to get his chance to impress her, and it only got worse when you made a pit stop just before heading into the forest.

Scott was in need of a two person sleeping bag, and when he ran into the new shop that had opened not too long ago, Lydia had called shotgun on the jeep before heading into the store herself.

Before Stiles could panic, or die of happiness, Kira and Isaac appeared, asking to squeeze into the back with you, stating they didn’t want to bear witness to all the cute, couply stuff between Scott and Allison.

You moved your stuff to the back of the SUV instead, and had Isaac sit in the very back of the jeep. He complained a little, but Stiles threatened to send him back to Allison’s car if he didn’t shut it.

Lydia arrived, sending Isaac an apologetic smile as she handed Scott her new tent and inflatable mattress to store in the car. You thought Stiles’ face was going to split with how wide he was grinning. Unfortunately, his joy only lasted as long as it took for Lydia to start gushing about the hot blond behind the counter.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was only Bucky at the shop today; Peggy had taken the twins to the academy’s pre-school, while Steve took care of preparations for their trip. Bucky, Peggy, and the kids were already packed, and Shuri’s parents offered to drive them to the airport, so all that was left to do was for Steve to pack and make sure they weren’t going to leave anything in the fridge to spoil.

Though the trip was for the kids, Bucky couldn’t help but look forward to it. He wasn’t a fan of crowds, but he would enjoy the smiles on the kids faces. Sam was meeting them there as well, and though Bucky would never admit it, he was looking forward to seeing him again, too. Mostly, he was glad that even Nat’s mood lifted considerably as the end of the week drew closer.

He looked up as the door opened, and the sheriff’s son stumbled in, looking a little panicked.

“You lose the lures again, kid?” he asked, not waiting for an answer before pointing him in the right direction. He would have laughed at the offended look the boy sent him, but his attention was caught by the laughter of two other kids standing in the doorway.

He saw the second boy’s lips moving, but he didn’t register his words. His focus was entirely on the girl smirking at the sheriff’s kid, who was now making his way toward the fishing section of the shop.

“Hey,” the other boy waved a hand in front of his face. “Are you alright?”

Bucky was snapped out of his trance, looking at the kid in front of him. “Huh?”

“You kinda look like you’re gonna be sick.”

“Scott,” you hissed. “That’s kinda rude.”

Scott grimaced, mumbling a feeble ‘sorry’. “I’m gonna go help Stiles.”

Bucky watched you watch Scott go, hoping his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. When you faced him, he took advantage of your close proximity to match your features to those of the little girl he missed so dearly.

The likeness was uncanny; too close to be a mere lookalike. At least, that’s what he hoped.

When you frowned at him, he realized you’d said something, and were waiting on a response. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I asked if that was your bike outside,” you repeated, worry still etched on your face.

It took him a moment to gather his thoughts. “Oh, right, yes. Do… do you ride?” He sincerely hoped not, which he knew was a bit hypocritical.

“Nah, my dad won’t let me,” you lamented, your face relaxing again.

Dad? he wondered. Who the hell is your ‘dad’?

“Well, um, that’s good. They’re dangerous, ya know?” He chuckled nervously at the unimpressed look you gave him. “So you an enthusiast or somethin’?”

“Not really, I just have my favorites.”

“Oh? Do you drive at all?”

Bucky thought he might faint at the way your face lit up. “Yeah, I have a ’53 Skylark.”

He couldn’t believe it. “The yellow one?” he asked. They’d lived in town for about six months. For six months you’d been right under their noses.

“Mm-hm. She was a gift from my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” His voice grew more strained as the conversation continued. 

“Yeah, he fixed her up for me for my sixteenth.”

“No,” he blurted. You wouldn’t turn sixteen for another couple of months. When you frowned again, he tried to play off his outburst. “No way, that’s… that’s a great gift. My nephew has a Chevelle SS we’re fixing up.”

“Nice!”

He saw you cast a glance toward your friends, and became worried that you’d join them. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet. “Yeah. Original parts aren’t as easy to find around here, though, so it’s uh, it’s slow going.”

“Have you tried Hale’s?” you asked, bringing your attention back to him. “They have a salvage yard behind the shop, and Peter’s always bringing in new stuff.”

Bucky actually hadn’t considered it, and made a mental note to check the place out. “You think they’ll have what I’m looking for?”

You considered his question and shrugged before pulling your phone from your pocket. “Only one way to find out.”

He watched you in awe as you scrolled through your contacts, barely registering the ringing until it stopped and a voice answered.

“Hey, Beautiful. Are you back from your trip?”

Bucky’s stomach tightened, and his heart broke a little at the way you smiled bashfully at your phone. He’d missed so much. You were so little when he’d last seen you, and now you were a young woman, possibly in love and with a life of your own.

“Not quite. Stiles lost his dad’s fishing stuff again, so we’re trying to replace what we can before heading home.” You giggled at the annoyed groan that came from the other end of the line, and Bucky bit back a sob at the sound of it. It was just like he remembered. “Yeah, anyway, I have someone here who’s looking for parts for a Chevelle Super Sport.”

“What year?”

You looked up at Bucky expectantly, and he had to swallow a few times before he found his voice. “1970.”

“What do you need?”

You smiled at Bucky, and he smiled back as he began listing the parts he needed. When the guy on the phone asked for his name to hold what parts were available for him, he watched you for any sign of recognition.

There was none.

The two boys ran up to the counter, placing handfuls of items down to be rung up. He didn’t catch the last bit of your conversation with your boyfriend, but he did manage to catch the odd looks the boys were giving him.

The sheriff’s son said something about not telling his dad, and Bucky agreed. He rung them up, quite carelessly, paying no mind to the items on the counter. He wouldn’t enjoy taking inventory later.

He didn’t care, though. The only thing that mattered was that you were about to walk out the door, and he didn’t know what to do.

“Duckling?” he whispered pleadingly. 

He wasn’t sure why he said it; a last ditch effort to get a reaction, he supposed. But you stopped. When you turned, you looked his way, but it was like you were seeing through him. The confusion on your face told him you didn’t know why you stopped, but he hoped deep down, part of you remembered.

“Y/N!” One of the boys called, pulling you from your thoughts. 

With a final wave at Bucky, you walked out and over to a blue jeep. He watched you climb into the back, missing the concerned looks the two boys exchanged.

He fought every instinct to run out and grab you and bring you home. To quell the feeling of dread at the possibility of losing you again, he reminded himself you lived in town, and unless your so-called ‘family’ moved, you shouldn’t be difficult to find.

Family. His body filled with rage at the thought of the people who’d nearly destroyed his, happily pretending you were part of theirs. He stormed to the front door and locked it, flipping the ’OPEN’ sign over.

He pulled his phone out to make a call, and stared at it. Should he call the police, or should he call Steve first? Somehow, neither option sounded like it was the right move. He settled on a contact and dialed. When no one answered, he hung up and tried again. After the fifth time, he decided to leave a message.

“Sharon, I need you to drop everything and call me back right now. Don’t tell anyone, alright? I think I found her.” He took a deep breath, knowing it was going to be hard for them to keep it from the others. “Look, I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, and I need a second opinion.  I need to be sure I’m not losin’ my mind here.”

Permanent -  @melconnor2007 @ria132love @psychicwitchphilosopher @sireennotsiren @silence–in–the–library @thefridgeismybestie @hymnofthevalkyrie @abbybills22 @mvasquez492 @ek823 @nicky10876 @sophiealiice @madeof-ink @dugan365 @magnitude101999 @way-ward-whale @i-am-the-fandom-warrior @seabasstiantrash @eden-the-human-garden

Duckling - @lgkoval@charmed-1998 @broco8 @sailor-earth-1 @sincerely-kizzy

If I missed you, let me know!

[matt0044]

“Now I’ll show you furry power!”

Anyways, our episode begins properly with in media res with the Dino Fury Megazord‘s Blade Formation against one Doomsnake. It’s a story structure rarely seen these days but one that I welcome since it breaks up the usual “slice-of-life antics interrupted by monsters” routine that tends to be the norm.

Add to that, it gives us the sense that this is just yet another day in the life of the Rangers as they fight the usual Sporix after but a few episodes in. It also leads to a pretty effective introduction to the next beast. Wolfgang uses his sonic bombardment as a means to disassemble the Megazord without even going big. This allows Mucus to go off and collect Doomsnake in his dormancy.

The Rangers bail in order to assess the situation when a poorly CGI bird flutters in and reveals himself to be... Mic Kanic. Yep, the objectively best character of Ninja Steel next to Victor and Monty has graced us with his eccentricity once again with Kelson Henderson going full ham. As the only person on Earth who liked Ninja Steel, I feel validated like nobody’s business.

It seems that Mic’s been quite the busy bee during Beast Morphers as he’s been getting selfies with over forty Rangers from all over the universe. I’m guessing some of them had “new powers” so to speak but it’s a damn shame we didn’t see if Kelson Henderson did get selfies with past actors for his return.

However, Mic’s also been on the lookout for the Ninja Nexus Prism’s current whereabouts and tracking it back to Earth. I love that they’re following Beast Morphers’ lead by casually reintroducing concepts from past seasons to tie them into the here and now. It’s still self-contained enough to not need to’ve seen Ninja Steel but might give some who missed out a moment to consider it.

Seriously, I feel like that season deserves a bit more of a reevaluation.

Needless to say, Zayto is quick to dismiss the idea of a semi-sentient floating piece of pressurized rock as an ancient alien warrior who fought on dinosaurs. Then again, he’s still pretty miffed that the zords got taken apart like Legos. It doesn’t get much better when Mucus overhears their little chat about the prism.

Later at BuzzBlast, Jane is hosting a baking stream with a totally real cake that’s totally not a prop when Mic sneaks in a delivered package to use their computers. I loved that Dino Fury is getting a lot more millage out of his shapeshifting compared to Ninja Steel where they wouldn’t “forget” but never really utilize since he and Redbot were the Alphas, forging up stars in the base.

J-Borg exposes Mic before he can use their database for any Ninja Nexus Prism sightings but he shape-shifts into a ball and bounces all over the place. Three guesses at to what he knocks right into Jane. It seems she choose the wrong day to make one of Chase’s exploding cakes from New Zealand. Way too bold. He makes a clean getaway from BuzzBlast only for one Wolfgang to corner him.

The Rangers assemble in time and give Mic a chance to become a toy race car. Methinks they were using old stuff they found in the garage for filming. It turns out the Wolfgang’s sonic bombardment can neutralize the Boost Key armaments the girls use. They decide to soon retreat with Mic back to HQ fast.

While Void Knight channels his inner Lord Zedd, Mic gives a rundown on the Ninja Nexus Prism itself with a data pack filled to the brim with Power Rangers history. I’m guessing that either he compiled it from Grid Battleforce’s archives or he’s the one who helped them with Ranger history. I sort of wish they used more clips of Ninja Steel to tease new viewers of past teams and their battles.

Solon helps to locate the prism’s location on their mapping system and sends the Rangers out to confirm its location. All the while, Mic decides to plan ahead by going into the kitchen. Kelson Henderson is clearly having a blast with the character’s constant gesticulations like he’s a YouTuber doing his DIY videos. :)

The Rangers find the Ninja Nexus Prism seemingly scanning the lake for something. Zayto decides to step up and engage his Rafkonian antennae in order to probe the prism’s memories. It’s hear where we get the origins of the Ninja Steel powers... two seasons after its finale. Better late than never I guess.

I kid though. I love that we’re getting new details of a past season by way of Zayto learning that the Morphin’ Masters of old created the Ninja Nexus Prism. In fact, they forged the Energems of Dino Charge as well as the Dino Gems from Dino Thunder from the visuals given. Now that’s good diagetic fanservice.

We even get brief clips of Ninja Steel’s Levi getting his Power Star followed up by Beast Morpher’s Steel in his final moments trying to stop Evox. I guess this means that the Masters brought him back to life as human when the Morph-X returned to the Grid. Previous plot contrivance now solved or more convoluted?

You make the call!

Boomtower and Wolfgang crash the party only for the Prism to NOPE right into the water. The Rangers find themselves pinned under barrels and boxes while Wolfgang’s sonic attack threatens to bring down the cliff on them. Thankfully, Mic’s Ninja Power Star throw hasn’t gotten rusty as he arrives and throws a treat into the mouth, making their foe sound like Eddy after Rolf’s pimple cure.

With no other option, Wolfgang grows before Boomtower taps into his residual Sporix power-up to gain a few inches himself. The Rangers pull out their Megazord’s Warrior Formation where all of their Zords combine. We even get a cool finisher that finishes off Boomtower where holograms of the other formations get a hit in. Are we sure that Judd Lynn isn’t still on the writing team?

Bye-Bye, Boomer. Hope you get rebuilt as another Ryusoulger villain soon.

While Mucus catches Boomtower’s Sporix, the Rangers manage to finish off Wolfgang with a weird edit of what was obviously an impalement. That Sporix Izzy catches by cutting off Mucus. Void Knight is temperamental over such a mixed bag of a day until he goes into his secret chamber and reveals to us his long lost love stuck in stasis. It’s clear that the Sporix’re all meant to revive her.

Hang on a second.

A villain with a violet color scheme utilizing a hero’s power and initially working alone in seeking out a specific source of power that can revive his love. Why’s it that I feel that Keith Silverstein would be voicing this guy if production still outsourced voice over to Los Angeles? Hell, I would be shocked if the Gold Ranger was his secret son and loved cheese a lot. *wink, wink, nudge, nudge*

Back at the base, the Rangers fill in for the Jays by ending the episode with some of Mic’s initial prototypes for his No Howl Treats. Either that or the ADR director forgot everybody’s recordings and had to resort to random noise in their sound library. Solon fixes it by bursting everybody’s eardrums. As you do.

Sadly, Mr. Kanic has Prisms to pursue and catches his Space Taxi back to the Lion Galaxy where he might open a steakhouse. I really hope they can adapt next Kyuranger if only to see the team stop by for a meal. Then again, Hasbro needs to sort out their Super Sentai problem before things get a little bit uglier.

[viskovie]

Just A Guy On A Shady Backstreet

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Chapters: 1/1

Rating: Explicit

Words: 1500±

Relationship: Tig Trager/Juice Ortiz

Warning for the tiniest amount of dub/con you've ever seen in your life. Minor season 7 spoilers, but only if you already know what the dots are that need to be connected.

Summary below~

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    This is just a little reimagining of that scene where Tig and Rat are watching the Chinese storehouse (and Tig has to think fast when the workers leave… poor Rat…), because I read a gorgeous, sexy fic by @juicehoee and fell in love with the Chibs x Juice/Tig x Juice thing, so here's 1500 words of smut ♡ All my fics (unless specifically stated otherwise) are fix-its, so Juice isn’t in trouble with the club anymore.

ALSO: this is my first time writing for the SoA fandom, and also my first time writing a BJ scene so i hope it's up to standard! ♡ General disclaimer applies.

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    “Would you quit fidgeting?” Tig snaps. He and Juice have been watching the Chinese storehouse for hours now, waiting for something to happen. Anything to break the monotony, really. It would’ve been bad enough just dealing with his own boredom, but Juice’s patience wore out in the first hour or so and he hasn’t stopped moving since. Every few seconds he wriggles in his seat, trying to find something to keep his attention occupied, but it seems he’s just in a restless mood. 

    He’d managed to get his feet up on the dashboard at one point, but then couldn’t get them down without kicking Tig in the stomach. Tig threatened to shut him in the trunk if he tried that again. Juice had said he was sorry, but he’d been fighting a grin the whole time and completely undermined the credibility of his own apology.

    Tig shifts uncomfortably. His tailbone is steadily going numb, and he’s starting to get pins and needles in his toes. He adjusts the angle of his seat and tries to alleviate some of the pressure building in his lower back. Fuck, he’s really not as young as he used to be…

    Suddenly, for whatever godforsaken reason, Juice decides to test his limits even further by popping his knuckles. One at a time. Tig glares at him, but he just shrugs and cracks his neck.

    “I swear to god, if you start tapping your fingers I will rip them off.” He grumbles darkly. “You ‘n Chucky are gonna match.” Juice only laughs.

    They’ve been waiting for another twenty minutes, during which time Tig seriously considers knocking himself out for a little peace, when there’s a commotion around the storehouse doors. He’s immediately awake, head back in the game and watching like a hawk. A couple of Chinese-looking guys load up a truck and hop in, glancing around suspiciously.

    “Should we follow them?” Juice asks anxiously. Tig shakes his head.

    “Nah.”

    “Won’t they see us?”

    “Yeah, but I’m just a guy on a shady backstreet getting cheap head.” Tig answers slyly, struck by an idea. Before Juice can fully register the implication, he's pushing his head down to his crotch. Juice struggles for a moment; probably just a natural reaction. Tig wouldn’t know. He covers his face with his free hand, peeking through his fingers and moaning lewdly for effect.

    “Are you- are you serious?!” Juice chokes out, still trying to back up. Tig pushes his head down a little harder, willing him to shut up and sit quietly for a few minutes. Mercifully, the universe complies. For once. He tilts his head back again as the truck rolls past, carefully obscuring his face and Juice’s tats from the driver.

    “They gone?” Juice mumbles. Tig decides it’s time for a little revenge.

    “Nah, not yet.” He replies, rolling his hips a tiny bit. Juice makes a strangled sound as Tig’s clothed dick brushes against his cheek, and goes still. Tig moans again, but it’s a tad more real this time.

    “Ah, baby, that’s it…” he adds wickedly. He’s ready for Juice to try to raise his head, but he’s absolutely not ready for him to do so just enough to undo Tig’s belt. He raises his eyebrows, not sure if he should stop him or not. It’s a rather foreign feeling. Juice smirks, dragging the zipper down like he’s got all the time in the world.

    He squeezes Tig’s thigh with his other hand, rubbing his face against his stomach. He teases the waistband of his underwear as Tig curses himself for actually wearing them today. His body is beginning to react to the sensual touches, and as much as he wants to pull Juice off and never talk about this again, he also wants to see how far the kid is willing to go in calling his bluff.

    Juice walks his fingers up and down his leg, getting closer and closer to his crotch every time. He glances up and Tig sees the uncertainty in his eyes. He nods, somewhat dazed, and Juice lowers his gaze to press a small kiss to his still-covered semi.

    Absently, he strokes the short hair at the top of Juice’s head, unable to tear his eyes away from the marvel happening in his lap. Heat pools in his belly as his cock is carefully freed from his pants. He hears the little gasp from Juice, and manages to pull himself (sort of) back together.

    “Juicy…” he murmurs, not quite sure what to say. Juice hums at the sound of his name and seems to take it as encouragement. His fingers are light and cool against Tig’s shaft as he begins to work him to full hardness. He nuzzles against his hip, warm breaths ghosting over the heated tip. Tig scrambles to make his brain work before Juice commits and does something they’ll both regret.

    “Hey.” He says hoarsely, heart thumping. Juice pauses in his ministrations to look up at him. “You don’t- uh, you don’t have to do this. They’re gone.” He explains, gesturing vaguely out the window. Juice blushes.

    “I know.”

    “You kn-? Oh my god.” Tig groans as the grip on his cock tightens. It sends sparks rocketing up his spine like fireworks. He throws his head back against the headrest, unable to keep from bucking his hips into Juice’s hand. He opens his eyes just in time to see him lick his lips and spit on the head. Tig watches in awe as his cock slips past those pretty pink lips and into the wet, velvety warmth of Juice’s mouth, his head suddenly feeling full of cotton.

    He isn’t aware he’s pushing him down until Juice pats his thigh urgently. He releases him with a muttered ‘sorry’ , but Juice doesn’t pull away. He just bobs a little, breathing hard through his nose. Tig knows he’ll be jerking off to this image for weeks.

    Juice takes the last few inches bit by bit, swallowing as best he can around his length, using the tip of his tongue to tease the vein on the underside. He’s doing a damn good job of it, too - Tig’s always been proud to say that he’s by no means small or delicate, and especially not in the bedroom. Or, y'know... car.

    He massages Juice’s scalp, getting a hum in return. It vibrates through his cock as spit slides over his balls in little rivulets. Juice’s throat constricts around him, and Tig jumps as he feels the faintest brush of sharp teeth. Juice snorts, petting his hip reassuringly. He draws almost all the way up, showing off the slick mess he’s making. Tig can’t decide if he wants to come in Juice’s mouth or on his pretty, flushed face. He notices peripherally that his other hand has disappeared from Tig’s hip - probably to palm at his own crotch.

    He blinks innocently before dropping with the ease of a seasoned whore, tongue darting around the thick weight of his cock. Tig moans before he can stop himself, gripping Juice’s skull with both hands. Burning hot pleasure dances through him, and he can feel himself slipping. He doesn’t want to hurt the kid, but it’s been a long time since he’s had a blowjob this good and he’s starting to lose control.

    Juice bobs his head like he’s done this hundreds of times before, his fingers flexing on Tig’s thigh. He swallows every now and then, muscles tightening deliciously, and looks up at him from under his long, damp eyelashes. Tig’s breathing heavily and his face feels hot. The whole world has narrowed down to their car, to this moment, to Juice’s lips around his cock.

    “Baby…” he warns breathlessly. Juice pulls off with an obscene pop, panting. He nods, unshed tears glittering in his eyes, and takes a deep breath. Tig heaves a groan as he takes him all the way down to the hilt once more. He sucks hard and that’s it.

    Tig’s hips jerk of their own accord as he spills down that divine throat, holding him firmly in place with an iron grip. His vision whites out for a moment in ecstasy. Juice’s tongue works as he struggles to swallow everything. After a long few moments, as Tig’s balls finally empty, he manages to get his eyes open again.

    Juice is flushed and sweaty, his lips and chin a glistening mess of spit and come. Tear tracks shine on his cheeks but he looks proud of himself. Tig can’t help fucking into his pliant mouth once or twice, despite his small noise of protest, before gently easing him off and tucking himself back into his pants. Juice sits up, wiping his face on Tig’s shoulder. For a minute, they don’t say anything, but Tig’s never liked silence, so he breaks it the only way he knows how.

    “Might have to let Diosa have you, baby boy.” He grins. “You’d make us big bucks with that mouth.” Juice rolls his eyes.

    “Then you’d have to pay me.” He retorts, his voice scratchy and beautifully ruined. Tig raises an eyebrow.

    “You talking back?” He accuses, mock seriously.

    “I just sucked your dick for free. Yeah, I’m talking back.” Juice replies, settling into his seat. Tig laughs and turns the key in the ignition.

    “Alright, smartass. Let’s get going before Jax decides to crucify both of us for being late.”

[ashes-and-ashes]

Challenge

Featuring Draco, Harry and a One on One Quidditch match that both are too stubborn to turn down.

~

Harry is seriously considering drowning himself in his soup.

He sips it wearily - it’s salty and warm and probably would taste better if his nose wasn’t completely plugged up. He scowls, wiping his face miserably with the back of his hand.

He feels like hell. His throat burns and his legs ache and he can’t go one bloody minute without coughing so hard he feels his lungs tearing. His arms are still bruised from the match against Hufflepuff yesterday, his back aching from the one against Ravenclaw 2 days before and his ribs are killing him from where Draco had knocked him off his broom on Saturday.

Harry stares moodily into his soup and wonders how much it would hurt if he face planted right into it.

“Okay,” Ron says, finally looking up from his plate; it still amazed Harry sometimes how fast his friend could eat. “Jesus Christ let it go! Just take this match off alright?”

Harry tunes him out. The entire Gryffindor team had tried some variation of this argument in the last week or so; he had eventually gotten them to stop by flat out ignoring them.

“ - And it’s not like we don’t have a replacement - Ginny can easily sub in for Seeker and we have Dean as a Chaser if we need to - “

Harry idly pokes at a piece of noodle floating in his soup. He takes another sip, wincing as the liquid burnt his already tender throat.

“ - You’re just going to end up hurting yourself and if you do we’re screwed because we can’t make it to finals...Harry?” Ron throws his hands up in exasperation. “Fuck - you’re not even listening to me are you?”

“Nope,” Harry says cheerfully, or as cheerful as he could get with an achy throat and a plugged nose. “I stopped listening right after ‘Take this match off,’ because we’ve had this conversation before and you know that I’m not doing it.”

Ron swears, low and creatively. He turns to Katie, who immediately flips him off. “Uh uh,” she grumbles. “I already tried.”

“Fuck you,” Ron says. “Harry, please, you can’t even fly right now. How the hell do you expect us to do well?”

“I can fly,” Harry says but even that sounds far fetched to him. He immediately breaks into a coughing fit, making Ron raise his eyebrows and Katie roll her eyes. “Jesus Christ I’m fine - “

Ron throws his hands up and storms off from his seat. Harry eyes his half-empty bowl and once again considers drowning himself.

“You know - “ Katie begins, but Harry cuts her off with a vicious glare. Katie rolls her eyes. “If it was any one of us you’d threaten to chain us to our beds.”

“Good thing I’m not one of you then.”

“Fucking hypocrite.”

“Bite me.”

Katie gives up with an audible sigh. Harry stares back down at his soup, presses his fingers into his ankle and tries to hold back a groan. He’s exhausted and running on empty but he can’t give up the match tomorrow. It was Semis, Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw and if they didn’t win Harry would lose his last chance to win the Quidditch Cup again.

He rubs his ankle harder, trying to will the tension out of his leg.

Ron finally storms back into his seat, a smug look on his face. Harry nearly chokes on his soup. “What the fuck did you do - “

Ron grins. “Found the one person who will talk sense into you.”

Harry shakes his head. “Oh no.”

He can practically feel Draco behind him, a solid entity of sarcasm and exasperation. He knows that if he turns around Draco would be staring at him, that infuriating smirk on his face and Harry’s not going to do it, he’s not going to look at that bastard -

“Ron says you’re being a bullheaded dumbass.”

Harry refuses to turn around. “I say you’re being a thick-headed prick.”

He can practically see the smirk across Draco’s face and has to grip the bench in order to stop himself from slapping it off. “You’re too sick to play, Harry. Give it a break.”

Harry finally loses it, whirling around to glare at Draco, with his tousled blond hair and silver eyes and green robes that looked so good on him -

“Drop it for fuck’s sakes. I’m playing. You’re not going to change my mind.”

Draco’s eyes flash.

“Fine,” he says. “Let’s go. One on one match. If you beat me, you can play. If not, you take tomorrow off.”

“No.”

Draco shurgs, the corner of his mouth curving up. “Why not? You claim you’re well enough to play.“

“All you’ll do is lose,” Harry coos back sweetly. Behind him, Ron makes a bunch of retching noises but he ignores him.

Draco’s grin grows wider. “Shouldn’t be a problem then.”

“I already said no.”

Draco winks. “Scared, Potter?”

And Harry is done.

“You know what? You’re going to be regretting your words later.” Harry gets to his feet, pausing only to yank his cloak from where it was flung over the back of his chair. Behind him, Ron lets out an indignant splutter.

“What the fuck?” he yells. “How is making Harry play in the rain supposed to help Malfoy?”

“You’ll see!”

Harry leaves Ron to his spluttering and Katie to her sniggering and follows Draco out to the field. It’s raining, though not enough to be dangerous, and Harry grits his teeth at the sight.

He grunts as he manages to drag his broom out from the shed, swearing under his breath at the chills running over his body and the pain in his side and his arms. With a scowl he bends over to knot the laces of his boots together, shivering against the cold.

“Oh,” Draco says, his voice sickly sweet. “You don’t look good Harry. Maybe you should go back inside. Take a break.”

Harry grinds his teeth together, so hard it hurts.“Fuck you.”

Draco shrugs elegantly. “Sure. Maybe tomorrow, when you’re taking the day off. A fix-it fuck.”

Harry flips him off even as his chest tightens at the words. God, Draco has no right to look as beautiful as he did now, leaning casually against his broom as the sky split around him.

He probably looked like a mess, with his aching throat and bruised legs. Harry glares at the rain and drags himself out, shivering as the water saturated his clothes.

“So,” he says. “What is this? Who can catch the Snitch the fastest? Because in that case, you might as well save both of us the trouble and go back inside.”

Draco grins. He’s sitting on the ball crate, one leg propped up by his chest, his broom against his lap and Harry has to take a deep breath to stop the roaring in his head.

“I was thinking, I’m rather tired tonight. You’re the one who’s always bragging about your skills. Why don’t you chase the Snitch around?”

Harry blinks. “So what? I catch the Snitch while you jack off down here?”

“Nah,” Draco says. “I’m gonna hit balls at you.”

Harry stares at him. “The fuck?”

Draco shrugs. “It’ll be fun. Unless you’d rather admit defeat and go inside?”

“Fine,” Harry spits. “You can’t be that good anyways. You’re a Seeker, not a Beater.”

He doesn’t like the grin that splits over Draco’s face.

“Why don’t you start?” Draco says. “I’ll grab the bats.”

Harry flips him off and kicks off from the ground.

Instantly he regrets it. He’s still sore from the matches, his legs tired and aching, his panting breaths rattling in his chest. Each drop of rain is ice cold against his skin - he wonders dimly if he has a fever, his fingers going numb against the handle.

Fuck you Malfoy, he thinks as he starts a set of blistering circles around the pitch, each turn of the broom sending needles stabbing into his skull. Fuck you and your ego and your beautful, perfect ass -

“Harry!” Harry stops his circling and looks down, trying hard to control his rapid breaths. Draco’s got the Bludger underneath his arm; Harry wrenches his eyes away from the muscles showing through Draco’s robes as he held the straining ball down. “I’m letting the Snitch out!”

“Whatever,” Harry tosses back, letting himself slowly drift higher up into the rain clouds. “I’ll catch it anyways.”

Draco lets out a long chuckle and then something bright and golden’s zipping through the air.

Harry immediately chases after it, his fingers numb on the handle of the broom. He grits his teeth against he pounding in his head, the chills wracking his body, focuses on just catching that damn Snitch so he can get inside -

He knows he’s screwed up when he sees Draco.

Even in the heavy gear of a Beater Draco looks dangerous, lean and powerful, all long limbs and calculating looks. Harry sees the bar he carries and swallows hard. He’s only ever seen Zabini handle that bat, polished metal with a leather grip, and Blaise was a giant. Draco was probably only half his weight and yet he still carried the bag with ease, dangling loose in his hand, the Bludger underneath the other arm.

“What the fuck?” Harry yells, hoping his voice would carry across the rain. “When did you become a beater?”

“Jack of all trades,” Draco yells back, the smirk in his face audible even from so far away. “You still want to do this? You’re going to get your ass kicked. You can barely even fly.”

Harry wants to yell back but his throat is too painful. He settles for flipping Draco off. Out of the corner of his eye he sees the Snitch, golden against the greyness of the clouds.

“Draco,” he calls out; Draco lifts his head, twirling the bat around in his hand.

“Yeah?”

“Fuck you,” Harry says, and then he’s diving, arm stretched out, the Snitch so close -

He yells, yanking his hand back and rolling; he actually feels the wind whistling against his ear as he Bludger passes mere inches away from his head. Harry grits his teeth, jerking his broom up; Draco meets his glare with a shit-eating grin. “Are you trying to fucking kill me?”

“Oh no,” Draco pouts. “Getting slow Potter? Maybe you’re too sick to play after all.”

Harry grits his teeth. He sees the Snitch fluttering around the goalposts; with a jerk of his broom he’s accelerating, presses close to the wood to be a smaller target. The Bludger comes close again - Harry curses as he’s forced to roll, those precious seconds losing him the Snitch once again.

He steals a look at Draco; the usual grin is gone, replaced by a bone-deep intensity. It sends chills down Harry’s spine - he tightens his grip on the broom and sprints after the Snitch once again.

This time the Bludger actually hits him, jarring his shoulder and making him hiss through his teeth. Harry flexes his fingers tentatively; it’s bruised but not broken and he bares his teeth at Draco, who gives him a wild grin back. Draco thought like he did, like a Seeker, tracking the Snitch through the rain, plotting out Harry’s movements and sending the Bludger to intercept him. It was the sort of skill that could only come from knowing someone so well, from being able to read them with just a glance.

It’s the most fun Harry’s had in ages.

He spins the broom around, looking Draco straight in the eyes. “Try harder, will you?”

Draco sends the Bludger straight at him; Harry laughs through the burning in his arms, rolling around to the side.

“You haven’t caught anything yet!” Draco yells back, eyes shining even in the darkness. “Looks like I’m winning!”

“Not for long,” Harry replies. “You’re about to get your ass kicked.”

“I’d rather get my ass eaten.”

Harry laughs, then drops down as the Bludger whistles over his head. “You’re so fucked.”

“Bold words from the loser.”

Harry grits his teeth, focuses on the Snitch and chases after it.

[shimmershae]

Remember all the ship imagery we got in the early episodes of this season?  Carol literally sailing toward Daryl in a boat, the ships all over her bedding, the helm in the background as Daryl takes her dinner and a flower, and Daryl’s comments about poking holes in any boats she might use to leave him again?  Well.  It just occurred to me, when Carol had her emotional breakthrough and decided to fight and stick around and work toward putting her demons to rest, i.e. go home to Daryl, it was after a boat literally fell on top of her.  And maybe it was an odd little coincidence, but somehow I don’t think so.

I mean.  The first instance, with Carol literally sailing toward a waiting Daryl was lightly tossed about as our ship finally, well, setting sail.  I know I had a lot of fun with the idea personally.  But shining a different light on it, I think Carol ‘coming home’ to Daryl was twofold.  One, she was literally coming home, albeit somewhat reluctantly because she still hadn’t figured out a way to reconcile her feelings on Henry’s death and all the traumas it pushed to the surface nor all of the emotions being back in the circle of those who know her best kept ever present.  And two, it showed that Daryl is not only her person or place of stability, but that he perhaps has already reached the point where he knows exactly what he wants and that’s Carol herself.  I mean, he’s literally right there, ready and wanting to be her port in the storm.  

Yeah, I don’t know if I’m explaining myself well.  I’m sure someone else can piggyback on this and do a much better job, but I’m going to keep spit balling okay?  Okay.  

The boats on Carol’s bedding were a nice little touch, don’t you think?  Especially since Carol’s been shown to dream about Daryl in that bed.  Not in exactly the way that some of us might want her to, lol, at least not onscreen because our girl did say to Michonne that her dreams were good and that’s why they hurt so very much--why oh why they cut that scene from the aired episode I’ll never understand, unless they wanted to play close to the vest with their hand for a little bit longer (unneeded IMHO since those that don’t want to see are not going to see what’s staring them right in the face until it bites their noses off, but I digress) but still.  It’s been shown and suggested she dreams about Daryl when she sleeps in that bed.  Basically, she only allows herself to semi-admit what she most wants in her dreams, and I don’t remember if we see that bedding again later or not but I did find it kind of weird at the time that she was sleeping on top of the covers.  It’s almost like she doesn’t want to embrace (cover up) the comfort that her subconscious offers her, huh?  Psst.  Daryl.  Or, you know, literally stop running and relax enough to truly let her mind and emotions settle.  

I’m digging a little deep aren’t I?  Oops.  Sorry if I sound semi-delusional.  I am somewhat sleep deprived.  But truly.  My brain cannot accept that all of this is mere coincidence so the hamster wheel is trying to theorize and this is what you get.  Sorry not sorry, lol.  

So where was I?  

So basically Daryl’s had his epiphany.  The years Carol spent by another man’s side weren’t something he reacted to with the usual or stereotypical signs of jealousy because he’s Daryl.  He wants the best for those he loves even at his own expense, but there was some deep-seated stuff there he maybe didn’t recognize right away or likely, as with Carol, didn’t want to immediately confront.   

Sigh.  These two and their shitty self-esteems.  Whatever are we going to do with them?  

Putting the rest behind a cut because this is about to get even longer.  Read at your own risk.  ;)

Shit may not be settled, but Daryl’s more settled and mature than he’s ever been and he knows what he wants:  Carol.  So he’s there waiting on Carol’s boat to sail in.  He’s right there.  Waiting on Carol to have the same epiphany or reach the same conclusion or not, whatever may come, because Dude loves her.  He might not have put words to it, but he’s shown her and us in so very many ways.  Carol might have come to him on the boat, but make no mistake.  At this point in time?  Our man is the captain of this ship.  He’s standing at the helm.  Get it?  The helm in the background?  Er, I’ll shut up before I make myself sound even nuttier, lol.  

Let’s talk a little bit more about Carol, shall we?  

So Carol.  She knows what or who she wants too.  She just hasn’t dared to voice it.  Even in those woods, when her subconscious in the form of Alpha pressed her to admit the truth she wouldn’t say the words out loud.  It’s almost like her keeping those feelings secret is her way of protecting Daryl from the ‘monster’ she feels like she’s become.  

Oh sweet baby girl.  My heart aches so much for her.  She just has no idea.  Really and truly no idea.  

Listen.  Daryl was completely serious about poking holes in all them boats.  And call this a reach if you want to, but I think that little comment of his was twofold as well.  More on that a little later.  

Dude isn’t all that well-versed in matters of the heart, especially with somebody that means so very much to him.  So understandably, he’s not going to automatically get everything right.  And let’s be real here.  He’s still so much more of a show than tell kind of guy so that’s what he’s been doing.  Showing Carol how much he cares.  Demonstrating his love by being there for her, by having her back, and by calling her on her bullshit (but only after she’s taken up all the slack and put them both and their communities in an arguably untenable position). He wants her to stay and he’s done everything within his power to make her want to stay--except say those three little words.  

Which circles me back around to the two-fold part of the holes in the boat comment.  You know where I’m going with this don’t you?  Don’t you, lol?  There’s someone else Daryl hasn’t said those three little words to or about, even after Carol herself tried her best to put them in his mouth.  Our guy went so far as to tell our thick-headed Queen that it’s not like that, not at all, effectively poking the biggest of many holes in the most present ship.  I say present for lack of any better moniker.  Let’s just say that it’s the most threatening in Carol’s mind and subconscious because literally the only person acting like it’s a real thing is Carol.  Kelly’s little wink and nod isn’t something I’m going to take on gospel because let’s just say a thousand and one ships could be launched at a teasing sister’s behest and only one or two be manufactured out of more than popsicle sticks and imagination.  How many cute guys did your little sisters have you in love with when they simply offered you a smile or kind word?  I literally cannot keep track of how many would-be suitors my little sister would have had me have, lol.  The list is simply too long.  It’s one of the things little sisters are so very (obnoxiously) good at--spinning fantasy into a reality of their own making.  But yeah, I’m going off on another tangent.  In case you haven’t noticed, I’m very good at that.    

My point is this, hahaha.  Daryl’s not just willing to poke holes in all the literal boats to keep Carol with him.  The man has also, in his Daryl way, poked holes in the notion that he could feel something romantically for another woman.  Because it isn’t like that.  Not for the captain of this ship.  He knows what he wants whether he’s managed to use his words yet or not.  

Carol’s trickier because she’s not reached the same sort of zen Daryl has yet.  She’s still operating under the erroneous assumption that she’s not good enough for her Mr. Crossbow and has been doing her level-best to steer him toward what she considers his perfect match even though her subconscious has been baiting her to just fess up to her buried truth--that she wants and loves Daryl just as much as he wants and loves her.  

But you know what happened?  

A literal boat fell on top of our girl’s hard head and knocked some sense into her.  Honestly.  While the circumstances were actually heartbreaking--our baby girl’s emotions have been so fucked up for so long over something that couldn’t necessarily be helped in the world she’s been surviving in--I have to laugh now,putting it into this newfound perspective.  Kang literally bashed my baby over the head with her demons and the truth of her feelings.  Seriously.  She held all her so-called ‘failings’ up in her face and had her confront them before confronting her with her biggest fear.  That fear being, you guessed it, that she lose Daryl.  

You know what happened from that point.  

Deciding that she could never let that happen, Carol had her own epiphany--it’s never too late--and she decided to fight and she went home to Daryl.  Really went home to him and yeah, things are still up in the air because Angela Kang wanted to blue ball us just a wee bit more but I can’t be the only one hearing those drums break for their big solo in that old Phil Collins song, lol.  

I can almost taste canon on my tongue and hoo boy is it sweet.  A little bit spicy too.  

Damn the coronavirus.  Seriously.  Send that thing right back to hell.  

I don’t know about y’all but I need that finale yesterday.  

Anyhoo.  If you found your way to this last sentence after this mega stream of consciousness hooey, bless you.  If you feel inclined to add your own thoughts to my sleep-deprived thoughts, be my guest.  

Later, lovelies.  

Keep calm and Caryl the fuck on.  

[divineluce]

Southpaw and Witchfire || Adam & Luce

Timing: May 30th, 2020

Location: Deep in the Woods

Tagging: @walker-journal​ & @divineluce​

Description: Kindred spirits in grief, Adam helps Luce work through her pain.

Triggers: Derogatory language CW

When Adam had messaged her, with his stupid offer of fighting, Luce hadn’t taken him seriously. But here she was, in the middle of the forest, her sparring bag slung over her shoulder. About to meet Adam for some kinda… bullshit, punch away your feelings session. Real Fight Club style, just with fewer cult vibes. As she walked into the clearing that she’d been to so many times before, Luce tossed her bag on the ground and began to warm up, swinging her arms. The scratches and bruises she’d sustained while running through the woods had faded away to fresh scars and yellowed skin, and you know? Why the fuck not bring some new ones to the game. She didn’t give a shit. Noticing movement to her right, she looked up and saw Adam walking into the clearing. “Hey. You showed up.” She said with a nod. “I heard you wanna fucking go, bro?” Luce joked, though the words came out more aggressive and threatening than anything else. She didn’t care. She was angry and if he wanted to fucking fight, she’d fucking fight.

There were certain decoctions that could dull a Hunter's strength for a time. Adam had used them when he was very young and terrified of accidentally crippling classmates or a girlfriend in a reflexive burst of superhuman strength. Indeed, Adam had no intention of winning this fight, only surviving it for long enough to maybe give his sparring partner some brief release. The liquid had been absolutely foul, but a numbing sensation and feeling of heaviness signaled that it’d worked its way through his bloodstream. His mutant healing should let himself survive pretty much anything Luce could dish out without guns or fireballs, but now there’d be no danger of him accidentally crushing her ribcage. 

“Yeah,” Adam said, winding athletic tape around his hands. “You’ve kinna been acting like an uppity cunt and your weird carny sister biting it has pretty much made you fucking unbearable. Time for a reality check.” 

Lip curling at his words, Luce stared at him for a moment, her hands shaking at her side. Her carny sister-- How fucking dare you say that about my sister. How fucking dare you.” Gritting her teeth, Luce rifled through her bag and grabbed a pair of MMA gloves. Hand to hand wasn’t her forte, she’d never gotten good at it. Swords, swords were her strength. But, looking at his smug frat boy face, his stupid angular jawline? Luce wanted to beat him into the dirt herself. She wanted to feel him hurt the way she hurt. Which is why she chose the gloves over the blunted training swords or the ratan single stick she had in her bag. The gloves didn’t have much padding, but it would be enough to ensure she didn’t break a bone in her hand when she smashed this fucking asshole’s teeth in. Sliding the black gloves on, she stared at him, her blood boiling with rage. “You’re going to regret saying that shit to me.” She said, thinking about Kaden as she ran at Adam, fists raised and ready.

The Hunter calling being what it was, most of the fighting stances Adam had been trained in were explicitly intended to kill with cold brutal efficiency. Each said style had a specific kind of physiology and type monster movement pattern it was designed to counter. Adam, being a strictly Code-observing Hunter, had intentionally abstained from learning all fighting techniques designed to quickly maim or dispatch other human beings. So today’s stance was nothing fancy. 

Adam stood with his legs shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, left foot turned toward Luce. He made a loose fist with his right hand by his chin with the left hand in front of his face.

Old School boxing stance any coach would teach you. Chin Down. Eyes Up. Don’t Die. 

“Why? She was the only one of you three that had her shit together,” Adam said, making a taunting beckoning with one of his weathered brown MMA gloves as Luce advanced towards him. “Your Mom even fucking said so,” he said bicep’s bunching as opened with a quick Left Jab, the boxing punch typically used to gague your opponent’s distance and defenses in order to step up stronger heavier punches. “You’re the weird lesbian problem girl who...what was it…” Adam feigned a smirking thoughtful expression as he aimed a Right Cross right for Luce’s face. 

“...Hides in her shed,” Adam said in a stilted impression of a Turkish accent. “Let’s face it,” he said, continuing to attempt to circle Luce, throwing  out quick jabs mainly to test what kind of reflexes and guarding he was up against. “Beatrice was fucking carrying both of you…..but when then she actually needed you for once? Where were you?” 

Adam let out a sardonic chuckle, abdominals tightening as he aimed a kick at Luce’s stomach. “Useless, MIA, hiding in your fucking little shed while someone hacked her to pieces. Kinna late to come to her defense now Lucinda,” 

While Adam might have had the advantage of Hunter training, Luce had years of bar fights, run-ins with monsters in the woods, and pure, unadulterated rage on her side. Her untrained eyes didn’t pick up on his stance, or the way he was testing the distance with his jabs. She didn’t give a fuck about technique. “Don’t fucking bring my mother into this.” She growled, smacking his cross out of the way with a rough punch of her own. At his horrible attempt at a Turkish accent, Luce felt her neck burn red. A growl escaped from her throat and she rolled back and forth, ducking and dodging his jabs. Adrenaline pumping through her veins, she did her best to make it through the barrage of punches. Adam was stronger than her, taller than her, with longer arms that could throw harder punches than she could. But she’d been through worse. 

When he kicked out at her, Luce sidestepped and caught his leg in the crook of her arm, pinning it to her side. “Shut up! Shut up! You don’t know a fucking thing!” She spat as she punched the inside of his leg with her free hand before pushing him away, trying to send him into the dirt.

Adam had to admit that a little regret about being so thorough when the enervating decoction Luce proved that she could handle herself amply. Even in the dusky forest, Adam could see the faint splot of red-stained yellow on the inside of his leg that signaled there'd be a bruise there pretty soon. Still on the ground he tried to swing out the uninjured leg to try and knock Luce off balance. 

“Really?” The Hunter sprang to his feet and attempted to shove Luce back in one alactious motion, attempting to exploit the leverage of his own brawny frame to knock Luce down. “What I see is a trampy tomboy screw-up who never fit in, so she puts on a scary Alpha Bitch act, but doesn’t actually have what it takes when someone actually needs her.” 

Adam aimed a Left Hook in a wind-up that sent a semi-circular punch towards Luce’s jawline.

Watching Adam tumble to the ground brought some small amount of satisfaction to her. But, that moment was lost when she kicked his leg out and Luce found herself joining him in the grass and dirt as he knocked her off her feet. Scrambling to get back to her feet, to regain the high ground, Luce did her best to avoid his shove. “She told me to stay away!” She yelled, bitter angry tears welling up in her eyes, but she forced them back. She couldn’t allow her vision to cloud. But, as she tried to control her emotions, the punch Adam sent her way clocked her right in the jaw. Her head whipped around and she fell to the ground, stunned. Her teeth bit into the side of her cheek and she could taste blood in her mouth when she hit the earth. Fuck.

Fuck. As she lay there for a moment, head wringing from the shot to the jaw, Luce’s mind was going a mile a minute. If she couldn’t take a goddamn punch in the woods, if she couldn’t handle this then how the fuck was she going to save Bea? How the fuck was she going to do what needed to be done. With a growl, Luce spit out a thin stream of blood and rolled back to her feet. Her hands were low, she didn’t give a fuck about defending. She wanted to make him hurt. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She hissed before lunging at him, her shoulders low as she made an attempt to grapple the man.

“Well of fucking course she did,” Adam grunted at he attempted to catch Luce’s charge. Slayers and Wardens were innately faster then Adam even by the superhuman standards of Hunters, so the less specialized mutant had to leverage raw strength through his size and build in order to pull his weight on Hunts. However Luce wasn’t a Alghoul or Spawn, being lithe and unpredictable in a way only rage can make you. Through a grapple was arguably Adam’s strong point, this was proving more than he’d bargained for. “Why do you think that is?”

“I fought beside Beatrice you know,” Adam pointed out truthfully. “Saved her from a Fext.” The Hunter himself felt really the ‘saving’ had gone both ways there, and the late sorceress had more than held her own. However Adam was trying to incite Luce into giving her all, and dredging up all the rage and fury that you can’t reveal in public when people are endlessly reciting nice-sounding platitudes about your loss. Objective truth wasn’t a priority here. 

“If I’m a stupid mouth-breathing Frat broy,” Adam huffed through gritted teeth, broad shoulders knotting as he tried to force Luce to give ground in the grapple before sheer physically. “What’s that make you Lucinda? If I can come through where you can't?” 

A bare-toothed sneer broke across Adam’s hard jaw-line. “Guess Bea’d still be alive if she’d relied on me ‘stead of you.” 

Face pressed against Adam’s side, Luce held onto him, keeping him close as she began to smash her fist over and over into his stomach and ribs. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up, she thought with every impact of her gloves against his body. “Shut your fucking mouth.” She spat, though the words sent her reeling, almost more than his punches. Bea knew she’d been too weak, too fucking weak to do anything. Which is why she’d told her to stay away. Why she’d told her to protect herself. Because she wasn’t strong enough. 

Feeling the way he was using his muscle mass to try and force her to tap out, to try and wrestle her into submission, Luce twisted and turned, thrashing wildly to escape from him before he could reverse the move. She managed to wrench herself free from his grasp, but she could feel strands of her hair being pulled and torn from her head as she pulled away. “You think I don’t know that?! You think I don’t fucking know that Bea would still be here if someone, if anyone else had known?” She shouted, panting as she backed away from him. Her arms were aching, her lungs heaving. The adrenaline, which had propelled her forward in the fight, was waning and in its wake there was nothing but tiredness. Her anger, while still present, was fading fast. And the numbness, the sadness… that was all that was left. “I know Nell beats herself up for being targeted and for Bea, for Bea saving her. But I wasn’t even there! I should have been there! I should have fucking known!” She howled before throwing herself back at Adam, fists raised halfheartedly. She wanted him to hurt her, to punish her the way she deserved.

Adam had reasoned from what Penelope had told him that the perpetrator of Beatrice’s murder had a high probability of being human, or at least ‘humanish’ (A surprisingly broad category in the paranormal underworld) He hadn’t pressed Nell for any details the other night, not wanting to stir up all that pain. Adam was not a therapist. Thus when he saw Lucinda’s spirit flagging, he perceived the same necessity that had informed his own parents. This was a dark and unforgiving world, and caring for someone means ensuring that they were a survivor by any means necessary. 

“Yeah you should have,” Adam snarled back at Luce  in a baritone made thick by heavy breathing. “What ...the..actual fuck is this….” The Hunter’s harsh voice reaching a deeper note at Luce’s passionless defense. “The fuck you are you doing Luce!?” Adam’s face took on a livid tinge as he began a true assault. “They’re going to kill Nell! Kill you!” The previous ambient bird and animal noises were hushed as Adam’s yelling continued into a stream of dark profanity broken by an unrelenting barrage of uppercuts, right crosses, and kicks. The Hunter no longer bothered with any guarding or dodging, focusing all his muscularity and energy into a tool of violence. If his words couldn’t reach Luce, then Adam would fall back on the neanderthalic method. 

“They’re like me! They’re killers! They won’t fucking stop just because you beg or Nell’s innocent,” Adam hissed through clenched teeth, knuckles raining down in blow after blow toward Luce. “You give up and you’ll both die! Because you’re weak! Where’s that fucking fire?” Adam swung a roundhouse kick Luce’s way. “Step up or die in the dirt cunt! Killers don’t care if you’re mourning!” 

Words. His fucking words. Luce could handle the onslaught of kicks and punches, she let them fall without blocking them, her body absorbing the blows. His fists against her arms, his feet against her legs, his elbows knocking against her stomach. Each impact sent a firework of pain through her body but she let them come. She could deal with the pain. She could handle the pain. But his words, his goddamn words. Luce closed her eyes as she curled up in on herself, her arms coming up to protect her head, as if that would stop the words he kept hurling at her. “I know! I know they’d kill us in a heartbeat! I know they would!” She yelled, though the words were more of a sob. They’d killed Bea without a second thought, they’d do the same to her, the same to Nell.

But when he asked about her fire, her fucking fire, Luce’s eyes flicked open. He wanted to see fire? He wondered where the flames were, where the spark was? While part of her had died the moment she’d found out about Bea, another part of her had been unlocked. Flames fueled by hatred and sorrow and loss. He wanted to see fire? Dodging out of the way of his roundhouse kick, Luce stepped back, extending her gloved hands. “You want to see my fire?!” With that, she let out a roar of anger and grief. Blue flames exploded from her hands, shooting around the two of them. The flames formed a giant circle around them, their blue tongues reaching higher and higher as Luce stared at Adam with pain filled eyes. “I’ll do whatever it takes to save my family! Whatever it takes!”

Adam flinched as the witchfire roared around them, a wall of phlogiston sapphire that made the Hunter’s vision ripple in a heat haze, as very air had become a boiling liquid. Blue fire was at least two thousand three hundred degrees if not more. The white sweat-stained fabric of Adam’s sleeveless gym shirt curled at the edges, fraying as small black-ridged holes appeared. Wave after wave of dry heat washed over Adam, a searing pain mountain even as his nostrils filled with the faintly sulfurous scent of his own singing hair. 

Adam lowered his hands to his own knees, the deep breathing of physical exertion made labored by the flame burning away the oxygen inside the ring. His brown eyes met Luce’s, bruised features painfully turning into an expression distinct from the contemptuous smirks and leers he’d been assuming. Adam walked to Lucinda across the blackened grass, gait a little stiff as the flaring heat accentuated the previous blow she’d landed on his leg muscle. 

If Lucinda permitted it, Adam attempted to catch her  in an embrace of sweaty bruised arms. “I know you will.” 

The air between them shimmered with heat as the fires roared around them. Luce could feel the energy rushing out of her body, her strength being consumed by the hungry flames around them. But, she couldn’t let go of the fire. She couldn’t release them. The sorrow she carried, the pain, the emotions were reflected in every flickering strand of light that surrounded the two of them. As Adam approached her, she watched his movements with a wary, tear filled eye. She wouldn’t burn him, wouldn’t do that to someone. But, if he said another foul thing against her and her family, if he doubted her abilities…

When his arms reached out for her, it wasn’t a headlock or a grapple or any other move she’d been bracing for. Instead, Adam pulled her into a hug.

The second his arms closed around her, Luce felt all the sadness and grief return to the surface, unfettered by the anger and rage and guilt. The fires died, leaving nothing but a circle of charred earth around them and smoke curls. Wrapping her arms around Adam, Luce buried her head into his shoulder and sobbed.

[flightfoot]

We’re The Same Ch. 1

AO3/FFN

So I’ve been a fan of Damian for a long time, since way before ML came out. He’s my favorite Robin actually. I was excited to see him used in tons of ML fics... and then discovered he was out of character in most of them. And used for bashing and salt mostly. And paired with Marinette for some reason.

The bashing REALLY annoys me, especially in regards to Adrien bashing. He and Adrien have gone through some similar abuse at the hands of one of their parents, though Damian’s was WAY worse. Honestly? The two of them would relate and probably become friends.

I wanted to see what would happen if I dropped a CANON-COMPLIANT Damian Wayne into Miraculous Ladybug; this was the result.

Disclaimer: This is a Lovesquare fic, with Identity Reveal, Hawkmoth Reveal, and Hawkmoth Defeat. It is NOT a salt fic.

This is set between seasons 2 and 3 of Miraculous Ladybug, and during the “Year of Blood” arc in Robin: Son of Batman (2015). Adrien and Marinette are 14, Damian’s 12, and I’m not certain how old Maya is, but not much older than Damian.

Thanks to @mini-minou for betaing!

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“Maybe we should take a break.”

Damian sighed. “Tt. You can leave at any time you know.”

Maya Ducard glared at him. “I’m not leaving! But we’ve been flying around constantly for the past week, returning things you took, trying to make amends for what you did during the Year of Blood. I want you to try to make amends, to repair some of the damage you did – heck, that’s why I’m here! – but I need a break, you need a break, and most of all, Goliath needs a break. He’s strong and has a lot of endurance, but even HE has limits Damian!”

The giant red bat-dragon gave a low grunt in agreement.

“See? Goliath agrees with me!”

Damian frowned. “A year, Ducard. A new horrible task every day to ‘prove’ myself to my mother and grandfather. There’s still almost a hundred tasks left to try and undo – or at least to try to fix or make up for as best I can. We don’t have time to waste.”

Ducard gritted her teeth. “If we collapse – ANY of us – it will take a lot longer. We need to be at the top of our game. And just submerging yourself in this redemption quest without any sort of break IS taking a toll, even if you won’t admit it. Mentally, if not physically.”

“I’m FINE-”

Goliath bellowed as some sort of cable wrapped around him. Instantly Ducard and Damian stopped fighting, jumping to high alert.

A girl in a skintight polka-dotted suit and a catboy in a similar skintight black suit swung onto Goliath, using their forward momentum to swing them both on top.

The catboy – wait, is that tail a BELT, how is it moving like that? – grinned, then did a double-take, blinking. “Wait, are you-”

Ducard charged forwards before he could finish, the catboy blocking her blows with his staff. “Who are you? More assassins?”

Catboy looked shocked. “No! Wait, MORE assassins?”

The spotted girl looked around carefully, taking in Damian’s and Ducard’s expressions and body language. Damian held himself at the ready. It looked like maybe this was a misunderstanding, but better to be ready than allow himself to be caught off guard. This could still be a trick of some kind.

“…You’re not an akuma, are you?” the girl asked.

Damian frowned. “What’s an akuma?”

The girl groaned. “Not again. Chat, I think we might have jumped the gun a bit.”

Ducard backed off, still holding herself at the ready but no longer attacking. “Who are you? Why are you here?”

The spotted girl sighed and plopped down on Goliath’s back, the catboy joining her a moment later. One of his cat ears flopped slightly, increasing his resemblance to an oversized kitten. “I’m Ladybug, and the boy beside me is Chat Noir. We’re the local superheroes in Paris. A villain named Hawkmoth is threatening Paris, sending out these tainted butterflies that infect anyone who’s feeling a strong negative emotion. It gives that person superpowers, but also corrupts them, twisting them into an evil version of themselves and putting them under Hawkmoth’s control.” 

“A few minutes ago reports started pouring in about some giant beast flying above Paris. Naturally everyone assumed it was an akuma, so we came to defeat it. Looks like we were mistaken though.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “No kidding. Now get off.”

Ladybug crossed her arms. “You don’t need to be so rude about it.”

Ducard took one look at Damian’s expression and decided to cut in. “Damian’s just like this. Don’t mind him.”

Damian looked at her sullenly. “No one asked YOU, Ducard.”

Chat tilted his head to the side. “Hey, I was wondering – are you Robin? I thought you died, but recently I’ve seen news reports that you were spotted around Gotham City again. But then there’s been that whole Robin movement in Gotham lately with a ton of kids and teenagers putting on the uniform, so I wasn’t sure.”

Ladybug blinked. “Wait, but- I thought Robin was older than that! I thought he was like, sixteen at least?” The spotted girl peered at Damian, narrowing her eyes as she stared at his face. “You’ve got to be a LOT younger than that.”

Who does this girl think she is? “And if I said I was sixteen and that you’re just a horrible judge of ages?”

Ladybug rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t believe you, since I can SEE that your upper right canine’s growing in. Generally speaking, sixteen-year-olds don’t have baby teeth.”

Dammit!

Ducard snickered. “She’s got you there.”

“This is YOUR fault, Ducard,” he muttered.

“If I recall correctly, you said that it had been loose for a while by the time I knocked it out.”

He looked away, silently fuming.

Chat coughed, obviously hiding a grin behind his hand. “So back to the topic at hand – ARE you Robin? What are you doing here?”

“Of course I’m Robin! And what I’m doing here is none of your business!”

“Well we ARE the protectors of Paris. If there’s any trouble Bugaboo and I should know about it.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes at him. “Quit calling me Bugaboo!”

Damian wanted to groan. Great, more flirting. He’d seen it between Father and Selina Kyle often enough, he didn’t need to see MORE of it. Was it something about cat suits? Was that it?

Ladybug turned back to Damian, addressing him. “Chat IS right though. If there’s any trouble heading to Paris, we need to know.”

He glared at her. “I don’t take orders from you.”

Ducard sighed and cut in. “We’re just passing through. We’ll be out of your hair soon.”

Ladybug gave a curt nod. “That would be goo-“

She didn’t get to finish the sentence.

Namely because a giant spoon had whacked her off of Goliath.

“MILADY!” Chat yelled, his face twisting in panic. He dove off Goliath after her.

“GOLIATH, CATCH HER!” Damian didn’t know whether they’d make it in time, but he HAD to try. The whole point of this trip was to undo damage, put some GOOD back into the world, maybe even earn redemption and forgiveness. He wasn’t going to let her die. He’d taken enough lives by his own hand. He didn’t want to see another one snuffed out.

Goliath dove towards Chat and Ladybug… but it turned out to be unneeded.

Damian blinked, then stared. Ladybug’s yoyo was wrapped around Chat, keeping her from falling to the ground. Chat, meanwhile, was twirling his staff so fast that it apparently acted like a helicopter blade, allowing him and Ladybug to slowly descend to the ground.

So these two were obviously magic. Great. Just great. He could feel a headache coming on. Well, it seemed like he’d just have to wing it and figure out the limits of their abilities as they fought. Not what he preferred, but he’d made do with less intel before.

And then one of the silliest-looking supervillains Damian had ever seen flew towards the two superheroes.

He had two sets of “wings” – if they could really be called that. The upper pair was made of two giant spoons, while the lower pair were two forks. A pair of knives were strapped to his back.

“People kept saying that the placement of silverware doesn’t matter. That it didn’t matter whether the spoon goes on the right or left of the fork, and even that the type of fork or spoon didn’t matter! Well, joke’s on them! I, Table Angel, will put everyone in their proper places AS SOON AS YOU GIVE ME YOUR MIRACULOUS!”

So this was probably an akuma. Apparently akumas were really stupid. Seriously, this guy was more of an imbecile than Condiment King, and he didn’t even know that was POSSIBLE.

Akumas were also unobservant. You’d think that he’d notice a giant red bat-dragon descending from above and barreling towards him, even with his back to them, but nope.

He noticed eventually. When Goliath rammed him into the ground.

Goliath descended to the ground, Ladybug and Chat Noir landing a moment later.

There was no rush. The akuma (Damian REFUSED to call him something as stupid as “Table Angel”) wasn’t going anywhere. Currently he was groaning in a giant crater.

Chat smirked. “Well that’s one way to take down an akuma.”

He strolled over to the semi-conscious supervillain. “What do you think, Milady? The knife, fork, or spoon?”

Ladybug shrugged. “Try the knives first. He hadn’t used them yet, maybe there was a reason.”

He nodded. “Makes sense. CATACLYSM!”

The knives crumbled into black powder, a purple and black butterfly fluttering out of the remains.

“No more evil-doing for you, little akuma,” Ladybug called out, spinning her yo-yo. “Time to de-evilize!” She caught the butterfly in her yo-yo, then opened it and set it free, now a pure white. “Bye-bye little butterfly!”

As it flew away, a purple liquid mass passed over the akuma, stripping away his supervillain appearance and leaving behind an ordinary man.

The man blinked, looking around wildly. “What happened? Where am I? Wait… Ladybug? Chat Noir? Oh no. I was akumatized, wasn’t I?”

“Yes-“ Ladybug began telling the man soothingly.

“SENTIMONSTER!” the man yelled, scrambling to his feet as he stared at something behind Ladybug.

“Sentimonster?” She turned around. And came face-to-face with Goliath.

“Oh. Right.” She called after the man, “Don’t worry! He’s not a sentimonster, he’s just-“ but by that point he was out of sight.

She sighed. “Well, there he goes.” She turned to Goliath and smiled. “Thanks for your help. Sorry about that whole being-mistaken-for-a-sentimonster-and-an-akuma thing.”

Goliath smiled, sweeping Ladybug and Chat Noir both into a hug.

Ladybug laughed as best she could, with the way she was squished against Goliath. “I love you too.”

Chat was ecstatic, his eyes sparkling as he seemed to melt into Goliath’s soft fur. A low rumble sounded from his throat.

Damian blinked. Chat could actually purr? Exactly how much of a cat WAS he? His eyes were catlike, his cat ears and tail swiveled and moved like a cat’s, even though they were CLEARLY fake… did he just like, have the magic essence of a cat or something?

Come to think of it, he didn’t actually know HOW Ladybug and Chat Noir got their powers. He didn’t even know whether they were human or not.

Hm. This was worth investigating.

After a few more moments of hugging, Goliath let Ladybug and Chat Noir down.

Chat dropped to all fours, still leaning into Goliath and purring, eyes half-lidded in contentment.

The “magic essence of a cat” theory was seeming more likely by the minute.

After several more moments, a beeping noise sounded from Chat’s ring. He blinked. Looked at it. Then abruptly jumped up, face turning as scarlet as Ladybug’s suit as he chuckled. “Uh, heh heh heh, I’ll just be going now, nice meeting you guys!”

“Chat!” Ladybug called out, holding out her fist. Chat smiled, raising his fist to meet hers.

“Pound it!” they chorused.

“Just one more thing I need to do,” Ladybug said. “Lucky Charm!”

A statue of a small red-and-black spotted bird fell into her hand. She blinked, glancing over at Damian. She studied him closely.

“WHAT?” he asked her irritably. “What was that all about? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I don’t think you should leave just yet,” she told him. “My Lucky Charm produces an item that I can use to succeed; sometimes by giving me the tool I need to beat an opponent, and sometimes by giving me a hint about what to do next. This bird looks like a Robin, so I think you’re supposed to stick around.”

Damian frowned. He hadn’t been planning on it before, but... he didn’t fully know what was going on here. And as both Batman’s partner and the former prince of the League of Shadows, he knew how valuable a bit of intel could be.

“Fine,” he stated abruptly. “But I’m not going to stick around for long.”

Ladybug looked slightly annoyed, then sighed. “That’s all I ask for.”

She threw the bird into the air. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

Swarms of ladybugs erupted through the air, whirling around the city. One swirled around the crater that Table Angel (with some unsolicited help from Goliath) had made. When the ladybugs left, the crater was gone.

Damian stared. So THIS was the ‘Miraculous Cure’ she’d been talking about. This… this could be HUGE. Collateral damage was a major problem in superhero fights, if this could reset that…

No way was he going to leave now. He wasn’t sure whether this power could only repair damage related to akumas or sentimonsters, as she said, or whether there was a more general principle, but he had to know more. At the very least who Ladybug and Chat Noir were so he could find them if he needed them.

A beep sounded from Chat’s ring again, a beep from Ladybug’s earrings sounding in tandem with it.

“And now I REALLY should be going,” Chat called.

As Chat ran past Damian brushed against him, lightly placing a device on his belt.

“I’ve got to leave as well, I don’t have much time left.” Ladybug hesitated. “You might need to hide Goliath somewhere; he’s obviously a huge softie, but Parisians might panic.”

Damian scoffed. “I’m not an imbecile, girl. And neither is Goliath. He knows how to hide.”

She shot him another irritated look, but apparently decided that it wasn’t worth responding to the slight insult.

Instead; “Look, I’ve got to go too. I’ll try to figure out what the Lucky Charm was hinting at and contact you later.”

As she threw out her yo-yo, hooking it onto the nearest building, Damian swiftly placed an item on one of her spots. A moment later she was out of sight.

Damian smirked.

Ducard glanced over at him suspiciously. “What are you so happy about?”

Damian took a device from his toolbelt and flipped it open.

Two dots blinked back, both moving rapidly.

Ducard stated flatly, “You put trackers on them, didn’t you.”

Damian’s smirk widened. “Always get to know who your allies are.”

Ducard let out an exasperated sigh. “How do the Batfamily have so many friends again?”

He chose not to dignify that with a response, looking back at the screen instead. “Now we just-“

The dots disappeared.

Damian blinked.

Ducard stifled a giggle.

“Did they discover my trackers? They didn’t seem like the most observant lot.”

“Guess you’re not as sneaky as you think you are,” Ducard teased.

Damian’s eyes narrowed. “We’re getting to the bottom of this. I’ll go to the dot on the left, you take the dot on the right. We’ll look for clues about what happened.”

Now it was Ducard’s turn to smirk. “I’m guessing the fact that the left dot is the catboy is totally irrelevant?”

He looked away.

Ducard burst out laughing.

“I don’t get what’s so funny,” Damian muttered.

Ducard wiped the tears from her eyes. “Damian, I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at him. Looks like someone has a crush~”

He shot her an irritated look. “That’s not it.”

“Really? Because it looks like it to me.”

He shook his head. “Tt. I have no romantic inclinations towards him or anyone else.”

“Then what was up with the look on your face when you looked at him? Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

He stared in the direction that Chat Noir had gone and swallowed. “It’s just… he reminds me of some of the stray animals I’ve rescued.”

“Oh.” She was quiet for a moment, then looked back down at the tracker, squinting at it. “Ok, I think I know where to go. I’ll head for where Ladybug’s tracker disappeared.”

Damian gave her a curt nod, then ran away. He had a catboy to find.

[chrisevansbabymama]

Daddy Hair Care - Chapter 4.1

Chapter 3

Chapter 4.1 - American Boy:

It was 9:51pm when Kayla looked up as the semi-sheer curtains on her booth were drawn open and Chris hovered above her. She locked her iPhone screen, the gadget that had served as a good distraction and company as she waited for him and Lauren. Keith and Tiffany had opted out.

After sending Chris off to his press event, Lauren retreated back to her suite a few doors down to nap, whilst Kayla went back home. She could have napped, but she used the hour to get ready for the dinner. It may or may not have had something to do with making an effort for Chris. She consulted her best friends’ Amanda and Michelle’s help, who co-signed that she should look “casually sexy,” like she wasn’t even trying to make an effort. So she settled for a no make-up, make-up look but with a bold lip. Her lips were her favourite feature. Then she wore high-waisted mom jeans that accentuated her butt (another one of her favourite features), completed with a roll-neck and satin heels.

But Chris had turned up on his own and still wearing the four-digit expensive suit from the event. He looked just as dreamy as he did when he left his suite earlier.

“Hey,” she greeted, taking him in as he slid in the booth opposite her.

His cologne wafted the small space. She breathed him in.

“Hey London,” he said and slid off his coat.

“Hollywood,” she shot back before chuckling at her nickname, “You haven’t called me that in a while,”

“I forgot I even used to call you that,” he smiled and then eyed her drink. “Have you guys ordered - where’s Lauren?”

“I thought she was coming with you?” Kayla explained, only to be met with his perplexed expression. “She told me she was running late and was going to

wait for you to come back to the hotel to change, and then you’d come together,”

“No,” he said slowly, recalling his conversation with her earlier. “I spoke to her when I was leaving the event just twenty minutes ago and she said she was already here with you,”

Even more confused by the mismatching narrative, Chris chewed on his bottom lip, deep in contemplation. This wasn’t like Lauren to lie. But she had said she was tired and wanted to spend the evening and all weekend in bed, before she came up with the plan to go out for dinner.

Kayla noticed his face change as if he suddenly had an epiphany; he shook his head in disbelief.

“What?”

“Seb,” he muttered, concluding quickly.

Kayla’s eyebrows knit together, now just as confused as he was.

“I bet she’s with him,” Chris said confidently with a nod.

But that didn’t make sense to Kayla; why wouldn’t Lauren tell Chris the truth if that was the case? And why did she lie to her and insist that she was coming out for dinner? But she shook her head, dismissing the thought. They were not best friends, so Lauren didn’t owe her an explanation about her private life; Chris perhaps, not her. And she supposed it made sense that she was lying if she was sneaking around with Seb.

But Kayla immediately had her own epiphany; that she was going to be spending the evening alone with Chris. She suddenly felt sick. Of course she’d been in his company, alone, on multiple occasions when Lauren had slipped out of the dressing room or his hotel suite to return his loaned suits, or grab a coffee.

But never like this, never in an intimate setting where she wasn’t working and had that to distract her. All of a sudden being up close to his face on a daily basis wasn’t as intimidating as this scenerio. She actually felt bad for Chris. He was the one getting the short end of the stick and now stuck with her, she bet he probably preferred to be in his suite with room service instead of this.

“Shall we call her?”

“Hmm, maybe not,” Chris replied quickly. “Probably best to leave her to it,”

“I’m sorry,”

“For what?”

“You’re stuck with me,” she shrugged, she lowered her posture. “Rain check? We can rearrange it for another time with everyone else?”

He paused, scrutinising her concernedly, “Why? You tired? I mean, I’m hungry and I could really eat so I’d prefer not to turn this down,”

“Are you sure?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve been looking forward to this since we talked about it at the hotel,” Chris reached for the menu. “You scared of being alone with me without your crutch, Lauren?”

“Oh shut up,” she huffed, her posture straightened back up without much thought.

“Just me and you London,”

And just like that, she felt normal around him again.

“How was the event?” she finally asked to break the silence as he studied the menu.

He sighed and gave her a look, that although she wasn’t Lauren - who was an expert at reading him, she understood this look: just…don’t.

“That bad?”

“I just hate those events, I knew no one. Y’just kinda stand around and mingle with a champagne in hand and pop a canapé here and there, and keep smiling for the cameras. It was a recipe for an anxiety attack,” he rolled his eyes. “I couldn’t wait to leave, at least I had this to look forward to,”

Had been looking forward to this as much as she had? Was he counting down the minutes, like she had been too?

“And as usual, every journalist was asking me about my Cap diet,” he rolled his eyes. “That’s all they know to talk about,”

“Like you’re some piece of meat,” Kayla offered to lighten up the mood, after noticing how distressed he was getting.

And it worked, he was startled at first but then a grin marked his features, letting her know that he was okay with the sparring. But that precipitated the nerves again for her; she could handle him, but usually that had been with Lauren in the audience. On her own, she felt cornered like he would see through her jokes.

“Like some piece of meat,” he echoed and then his voice went up an octave as he feigned pain in a playful voice. “I am more than my looks, I’m someone’s son and I’m a daddy,”

A daddy...she mused.

Kayla looked down to hide the smile threatening to light up her features. She needed to get out of her own head if she was going to survive this evening with him. As that realisation hit her again, coming to her in waves, her heart

thudded and she glanced at her phone. If only she could tell her friends that she was now out alone with him. But there was no way she could pick up the gadget surreptitiously and not only because it was rude, but her palms were a sweaty mess.

“I’m going to treat myself tonight, London. I’m going all out, what’s the greasiest option here?” he gave her a determined look. “Let’s give them a different variation of Cap’s body and see what they will ask me,”

“I’d recommend the tempura options if you really want to suck it to them, otherwise there’s not much grease here,” Kayla pointed out, receiving a child-like groan from the man across the table.

He grumbled, scanning the menu quickly to confirm that nothing else on there was going to satiate his appetite. The second he left the press event he had decided that it was going to be a cheat night; but he wasn’t going to find his pleasure in a sushi restaurant.  

“Wanna go somewhere else?”

“Oh no, it’s fine. I’ve already made you wait all this time-“

“It’s okay. I would love a proper meal too, since someone’s made me wait this long to eat,”

“Sorry,” Chris said sheepishly, catching the playful shot at him for making her wait.

“C’mon Hollywood,” she wiggled her eyebrows. “I know a place,”

________

“This is everything I didn’t even know I needed,” Chris groaned with a mouthful of food.

It was a short while later when the two found themselves tucked away in the back of a darkly lit unassuming Lower East Side eatery. As her go-to for comfort food, Kayla thought it was ideal spot for Chris hide away. The sushi restaurant scene was almost too similar to the crowd he had left at the magazine party; dressed up, well-heeled, mini dresses and cleavage, suits and perfume drenched guests everywhere, with sake on the drinks menu.

Despite being overdressed for this crowd, they felt more relaxed. At the eatery, there were distressed jeans, sneakers, thick layered outfits to combat the cold, and drinks on the menu with names like Freaky Friday and OMG! They Killed Henny. Chris was tickled and he’d giggled at the names for longer than they warranted.  But Kayla didn’t mind, she appreciated his sense of humour and that he didn’t take things too seriously.

“I could so eat this every day,” she told him wearing a look of adoration; happy to be eating at long last.

“I’m impressed, London. The concept always seemed bizarre to me, but this is golden,” he reached for syrup and drizzled it all over his waffles until they were swimming in the saccharine liquid.

Kayla felt all giddy at impressing Chris. She loved their little sparring matches and quips, but when he was complimentary, it gave her confidence that he took her seriously. She wasn’t just there for some comic relief.

“Is this really your first time trying chicken and waffles or are you trying to be cute?”

“Believe me, it is and I’m not proud of it,”

“Wow, I’m disappointed Evans,” she meant it.

“I don’t get out much, and I’m not allowed to eat this stuff,”

“You sound like a kid! Surely you have cheat days?”

“Usually it’s pizza, nachos, ice cream and beer. I’m a creature of habit,” he shrugged, shoving his face with another bite. “A simple guy,”

“I just thought chicken and waffles was simple? Isn’t it the most basic combo -the American equivalent to fish and chips?” she commented. “I bet you don’t cook. Do you cook?”

“Do I cook? Of course I cook,” he gave her a ridiculous look.

“Hey,” she looked at him pointedly. “I could have asked you what your Cap diet consists of,”

He deadpanned, “Yeah, touché,”

“Okay, so what do you cook, what’s your knockout meal? I gotta warn you, my standards are low,”

“I can knock a tagine out the park…pesto eggs…I make mean pesto eggs,”

“I don’t believe it,”

He shrugged, “Not really fair if I can’t prove myself without a kitchen,”

“True,”

“What’s your ‘knockout’ meal?”

“I make a good pad thai, and I bake a lot too,”

“I don’t believe it,” he mocked her with a lopsided grin. “Prove it,”

“Unlike some people,” she coughed a ‘you’ under her breath. “Some of us are normal and don’t live in hotels, so I actually can prove it,”

He looked at her, shocked at the low blow. She flinched at the expression, realising how insensitive she came across.

“Chris, I’m so sorry, that was so insensitive,”

“It was,” he pointed a look at her, but the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth put her at ease; he hadn’t taken offence. “You owe me, now you have to cook for me,”

Caught off-guard by his flirty remark, she became shy; imagining the domesticity of his proposal. It was something that had always occupied her imagines and thoughts on a few too many occasions.

Chris blushed. It was almost visible, his face had turned a soft pink hue as he also imagined it: watching her taking charge of the kitchen to cook for him. He was certain that she was a good cook. Lucky for him, the dim lighting had obscured just how bashful he was.

“I’ll help you, of course, because otherwise that’s just sexist of me to demand you to cook for me,” he corrected.

Everyone inch of Kayla’s feminist inhibition wanted to say ‘damn right,’ but the sexiness of this entire scenerio crippled her.

Patriarchy 1 - 0 Kayla.

“You seem very convinced that it’s going to happen,”

“Speaking it into existence,” he imitated her mantra with a wink that she didn’t know what to do with.

So really if she played her cards right, she could have Chris Evans in her home? And cook for him?

“We’ll see,” she said casually, but deep inside she was screaming.

“Don’t you feel sorry for me? I eat out of take out boxes, or room service. I miss a good home-cooked meal,”

“That hardly seems like a nightmare,”

“You’re lucky I’m not travelling for the Infinity War press tour. I’d love to take you with me and see how you survive out of your territory,”

To him it was a careless and empty threat, but to Kayla, she hung onto the fact that he had even considered her as an option.

“You’re just showing off because New York is your territory,” he continued.

“Hardly! London’s my territory,” she laughed at how worked up he was getting. “So what’s brought you out tonight if eating out isn’t your favourite thing to do? You’re usually one to hide away indoors?”

“Seb’s been bothering me to get out more and ‘put myself out there’ to start dating again, I kinda ignored him until my ma said the exact same thing,” he sat back. “Which clearly means that I have a boring life. If I’m not with Mya or Dodger, I’m either napping or working,”

“So your tactic to live a carefree life is to hide at the very back of a hidden restaurant, stuff your face with waffles drenched in syrup?”

“It’s a good start, baby steps,” he considered, before they both started laughing.

Kayla considered what he meant by ‘putting himself out there,’ had he been reserving himself all along? She wondered how long he’d take to make a move on her if he liked her. Then she felt ridiculous for even thinking it possible, Chris was clearly the type that made a move if he liked someone. Judging by his lifestyle and age; being a dad and all, with a career going for him, he didn’t seem like the type to waste time. He had that sexy and mature ‘I know what I want and I get what I want’ aura about him.

So why hadn’t he made his move, if he liked her as much as Lauren proposed?

“As the singles on Team Chris Evans, me and you should make a pact,” he lifted his glass and nodded at hers. She mirrored him.  “From now on, we are going to make time and put ourselves out there,”

It wasn’t a secret that she was single, but she’d never had a conversation with him for him to know that she was. Something about the way he made that assumption bothered her. Was she that unappealing that it was obvious she was single?

She didn’t call him out on his (albeit correct) assumption though, she clinked her glass against his as he made a toast to being single ‘but ready to mingle.’ Really, the playing field wasn’t levelled; if he wanted, he could be in a relationship tomorrow. He had a queue of women around the world ready to say yes to him.

But she smiled and pretended it was okay, like she knew to.

Like she always did.

Like she always had to.

Chris downed the last of his beverage and sat back again, satisfied. A food coma was imminent, so he stifled a yawn and stretched. Even then, it was a sight for Kayla, it wasn’t even the way his muscles contracted and wrestled with his dress shirt. He just looked so soft and needy. In need of a cuddle, she concluded. The man could just breathe and that was enough for her to lose her senses.

“Long day,” Kayla said sympathetically.

“Man, you have no idea,”

“Let’s get the check,”

“I don’t wanna go home, well, back to the hotel. I’ll just sleep,” he frowned.

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

He looked at her incredulously, “No! It’s a Friday night, putting myself out there and being carefree, remember?”

Kayla thought, “Okay, you can walk me home, that’ll kill sometime,”

“It’s cold,”

“Hence why we’re walking, it’ll keep us warm. I live five minutes from here,”

“That’s not really how the science works,” he stated. She gave him a blank look. He groaned, “A car is better and warm, there is heating,”

“This is so Hollywood of you, Evans. I doubt you’ll meet the woman of your dreams when you’re tucked away in the back of an Uber. Put yourself out there,” she pepped him. “What if you get cold? Carefree, remember?”

What if the woman of my dreams is already there with me? Chris smiled, failing to hide it; Kayla thought her pep-talk was resonating with him.

Chris resigned, “This is so London of you. You’re used to your crappy weather, you can shoulder the cold,”

“You’re so Hollywood, I’m in heels and I’m not complaining,” she pierced her eyes at him. “But you’re all, ‘I’m Chris, I’m from LA where it’s always hot, and I don’t walk anywhere because I have personal chauffeurs-“

“Fine, we are going to walk,” he said determined to show how normal he was.

“Before we go,” she bit her bottom lip nervously, realising he wasn’t putting up a fight anymore. “I kinda lied, it’s more like a fifteen minute walk,”

“Okay, if I’m bearing the cold to get you home, you’re cooking for me next time. I mean that,”

“Deal, and relax, it’s not even that cold,”

Chapter 4.2

_________

Disclaimer: Gif Not My Own

Tags:  @mississippifangirl​ @thinemineours @tessathedragon @thottio​ @caninoona @eratotalles @allonszassbutt @thinemineours @dreamingwithmendes @void-imaginations​ @daybreak96​ @l-auteuse​ @cliffordasparagus @bumber-car-s @lvlyab @melaninmarvel @milkymil-k

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

The War Is On

Request: Can I request a Logan fic where the reader is Charles Xavier’s sister and she has just moved in to help with missions. She is also very similar to Logan in the way she acts she’s really cool like proper badass. So one night the reader goes to the kitchen to grab a beer and catches her having one of his. Smut happens? Can you make it light hearted and flirty please. Requested by anon.

A/N: I don’t really write smut, so it’s only implied.

Warnings: fighting, implied smut at the end.

Word Count: 1635.

Logan was teaching a class outside the X-Mansion when he was interrupted by a loud motor noise.The students lost their focus and a woman riding a motorcycle caught their eyes. Logan got mad when everybody stopped listening to him and gave them a five minute break to investigate.

When he reached the front entrance of the mansion, he saw you park next to his motorcycle.

“So not only did you catch my students’ attention but you’re also riding the same motorcycle and parked next to mine. What’s next? You gonna be in disguise as me?” he walked towards you.

“Could you repeat what you just said?” you took off your helmet and placed it on the motorcycle.

“What do you think you’re doing speeding up in here like you own the place?”.

“Well,... I do”.

“There are students here and you’re disrupting classes. If you have no business here then I just you be on your way”.

“Or what?”.

“You don’t want to find out”.

“But I do” you took a few steps closer to him and crossed his personal space.

“I don’t have time for this” he got uncomfortable and left.

---

“Brother! I’ve missed you” you greeted Charles.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?”.

“An old friend of yours called and informed me of the situation. Why didn’t you call me?”.

“Erik! It’s under control and I didn’t want you to put yourself in danger”.

“Well, now I’m here. So… Hey, can you tell me where the nearest gas station is? The last one I encountered was an hour away. I need some cigarettes”.

“Y/n, smoking is not allowed here. There are children for god’s sake”.

“Aha, I see. Do you by any chance happen to know who the guy with the weird dark hair, leather jacket and motorcycle is?”.

“Logan?”.

“Yeah. Can you tell me where his room is?” you pretended to know who he is.

“What for?”.

“I met him at the door and he asked if I could bring him something from his room since he has a class to teach”.

“First floor on the left. There’s a sign at the door saying don’t disturb, I’m busy and even if I’m not, I don’t want to see you”.

“classic!”.

When it was time for dinner, Erik informed you and you came down with a cigar in your hand.

You sat at the table not paying attention who was there.

“Y/n what did I tell you about smoking?” Charles reminded.

“Chill! There are no children here at the moment”.

“It’s you again. Wait, where did you get this from?” Logan asked.

“Guess” you smirked.

“Hey, that’s mine!”.

“Not anymore”.

Logan immediately went upstairs to check on what’s left of his cigars.

“Where the hell are my cigars?” he came back angry and with his claws out ready to fight.

“So that’s your mutation. Interesting! What cigars are you talking about?”.

“The ones that were in my room. You took them. Don’t pretend that you don’t know what I’m talking about”.

“I took them and I already smoked three of them. It’s good quality”.

Logan lost it and was about to attack you when Charles put himself in the middle “Logan, Calm down. I will deal with my sister”.

“Your sister? That bit- that girl is your sister? Are you sure you’re related?”.

“Unfortunately, yes”.

“Unfortunately?” you crossed your arms.

“You with me now” he ordered and you followed.

“What’s wrong with you? You haven’t been here ten hours yet and you’re already causing trouble! Return Logan’s cigars to him and leave”.

“I’m not leaving brother. This is my house too, remember? And relax, I only wanted to teach him a lesson. He was rude to me today”.

“So, when you asked for his room it was a lie”.

“Kinda. Now can we get back? I’m starving".

“Y/n we’re not finished yet”.

“We’re finished when I say we’re finished” you left.

“Got scolded by your brother?” Logan was now calmer.

“You wish! And uhm keep talking like this and you’ll never see your cigars again”.

“How did you even know I had cigar?”.

“Charles said smoking isn’t allowed here and I could smell it all over you. I figured you keep it in your room”.

Every day, you and Logan would bicker like an old married couple. Not to mention all the teasing and mocking. Everybody could see the sexual tension between the two of you but you.

“Aah!” you yelped from the pain.

“Are you gonna cry like a little girl?” Logan mocked.

A man threw a knife at Logan while he was distracted by you “ouch!”.

“Who’s crying now?” you took the knife from his forehead and threw it back at the man.

---

“I fucking hate you!”.

“I hate you more!” he slammed the door in your face and from the anger, you went outside and deflated his tire with your knife.

The next day, he had to go somewhere and he was already late. When he tried to start the engine, he couldn’t drive “Y/n!!!!”.

“What did she do this time?” Charles was reading through the newspaper.

“You need to get your sister under control before I lose control!”.

---

“You fucking asshole!” you quickly went downstairs in search of Logan when you saw what Logan did “where is he?” you asked Charles who was talking with Hank and he signaled you.

“I’m going to kill you, so you better run!” you threatened.

“And how are you going to do that, sweetheart?” he was smoking a cigar in the backyard.

“I have an idea or two” you glared at him

“Well, then you’re welcome to try it” he smirked.

From  the anger, you took the cigar out of his mouth and stumbled on it.

“Really?”.

“What are you gonna do about it?”.

“You’ll see”.

“If you ever touch my clothes again, I’ll kill you. I mean it!”.

“I’m sure you do”.

---

“Y/n, where is my motorcycle?” he stormed into your room without knocking and you were changing your clothes.

“Jesus fucking christ! Have you heard of something called manners?” you were shirtless.

“Says the thief!”.

“Get out!”.

“Not before you tell me where you hid it?”.

“Logan, get out! I’m getting dressed here!”.

“I can see that, but I’m leaving until you tell me”.

“Fine! I sold it to a guy at the bar”.

“Are you nuts?”.

“You wanted a fight, now deal with the war, honey!” you teased.

“You asked for this” he pointed a finger at you before leaving. “Oh, and I wouldn’t suggest wearing this bra, if you’re gonna meet someone. It makes you look stupid”.

“Out!” you threw the next thing you could find at him but missed.

---

“LOOOOGAN!”.

“Here they go again” Charles sighed.

“Where is that son of a bitch?” you asked Charles.

“What happened now?” he rolled his eyes.

“My room looks like an earthquake just hit it, that’s what fucking happened!”.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” you found him at the same spot you always find him in, the backyard smoking.

“I warned you”.

“The next time I see you, I’m gonna set you on fire and see what happens. Maybe that metal inside you will melt and I’ll be rid of you”.

“Ooh, I’m scared now”.

“You should be”.

---

That war between the two of you was getting out of hand. It was exhausting. You wanted it to stop but both of you were too proud to tell the other.

After an exhausting mission, you went to the kitchen to grab a beer in the middle of the night. 

You were sitting on one of the counter stools sipping beer in your semi sheer pink nightgown when Logan came to the kitchen.

“Seriously? My beer? That’s your next move? Or are you out of moves? To be honest, I’m a little disappointed” he teased.

You rolled your eyes and sighed “Listen, I’m a bit tired after Today’s mission, so let’s call it a night and continue our fight another time”.

“Wow! Is that defeat I’m hearing in your voice?” he went to grab a beer from the fridge.

“Call it whatever you want. I just wanna enjoy my beer- well your beer and go to bed” you got injured during the mission and your body was full of bruises.

“Oh, you aren’t kidding” he sat on the stool next to you.

“No” you glanced at him before returning to your drink.

“So pink, huh? I never imagined you one of those girls” he smiled.

“Apparently I am”.

“Are you alright?” he saw the cuts and bruises all over your body.

“Like you care”. There was silence for a moment.

“I do. We’re teammates after all”.

“I’m fine. Unlike you, my wounds need time to heal but I’m you used to it so…”.

He took your arm to examine the wound “this must hurt”.

“A bit… Logan, what are you doing?” this was the first time the two of you sat alone and haven’t fought.

“What do you mean?”.

“I mean this. Being nice. Not fighting. Physical contact. Caring and asking about my bruises and wounds”.

Without warning he pressed his lips to yours and to your surprise you liked it. You were kissing passionately and devouring each other when you suddenly realized as you were on the counter-top that this is still a school.

“Stop, stop, stop!”.

“What is it?” he asked.

“There are students here” you reminded.

“And?”.

“We’re in the kitchen”.

“Oh…”.

“So you’re room or mine?”.

“I think we should go to mine, since I kinda destroyed yours”.

“Right. I totally forgot about that. Oh by the way, after we’re done, the war resumes”.

“Great. So I can kill you in your sleep?”.

“Not if I kill you first”.

Tags: @shymagicsworld @simonsbluee @bucky-blogs

[texthemess]

hey! I hope you feel better soon! can I request something with Steve x reader? maybe reader is Steve's boyfriend and has no idea of what's happening at the mall and somehow they got involved and they have no idea what's going on? I don't know, I just really hope you feel better

thank you so very very much for your kind words. getting this message this morning seriously made me feel so good.

i did my best with this, i hope you like it! i don’t usually write/ship steve with guys, its usually girls, but i went out of my writing comfort zone to try something new so i hope it worked! 

——————————————————————–

Steve, can you hear me?

( gif credit: joeskeery )

A groan rolled from tired throat as hands reached up above head pushing the mound of pillows forward in order to stretch. Leg fell from the side of the bed as another groan escaped the comforter. Rising from the dead, at least as Steve called it, Y/N sat up straight and stared hazily towards the other side of the room.

————

The room was a mess, god was it in need of a deep clean. If only he had the time of day to make that happen. He was a heavy sleeper and sometimes found himself sleeping most of the morning away. Part of it was partly due to a night shift taking most of his work life; on the other hand, he simply wasn’t a morning guy. It did sadly lead to undesirable mornings when there was no Harrington in the bed beside him. God was it cold without him. Even with the heat raising to the triple digits, it was so cold without him there.

Reaching towards the bed side table he lifted a cigarette, clicked his lighter a few times, and lit the stick. Inhaling deeply, fingers curled the tobacco before he exhaled the smoke into the air around him, “Shit..” he had to change shifts. One would go crazy with hours such as his.

Y/N hadn’t seen Steve much that week come to think about it. He was always at work, which again was opposite shift of his own, and then Henderson came back from his month long camp. Y/N understood seeing a friend again after that length of time. It’s not like you could just pick up the phone and call at anytime. And though he was still just a kid, and Steve being graduated high school and all, Steve and those kids had been through it all it seemed. What with Will going missing when he did and everything that came after that. To be honest, Y/N was still trying to wrap his head around it all and it was a miracle these kids came out of it, semi normally. If you could call them normal. But they meant the world to Steve which means they meant a lot to Y/N as well. Even if he still had to constantly ask about everything that happened.

Glancing to the clock, “ SHIT! “ cigarette was put out in the empty tray on the table, free hand flung the comforter to the other side of the bed as he sprung to his feet. One foot into a pant leg as he hopped around the room cursing under his breath. A second foot into the other leg and up they went. Fumbling with his belt he blew out a puff of air pushing curls from his line of vision. One might take a look at him and think him a total mess, which was only partially correct considering he was now late to his date with Steve. He had been rambling on the last couple days about something Russian. How robin and Dustin had translated and figured out some code? To be honest y/n had been far too tired to comprehend whatever his boyfriend had been rambling about.

Rushing towards the full body mirror that looked as if any second it was going to fall off the closet door; Y/N pushed hair from his face, brushed out some wrinkles in his shirt, and sprayed some deodorant to mask the lack of a shower. He was a mess, but at least he was Steve’s mess. Thank god he loved him. Knowing the two, the night would probably end in a shower as it was. So he wasn’t exactly complaining.

Cursing under his breath one last time he grabbed his wallet, house keys and made a b-line for the front door. As soon as he turned the nob and flung the door open, there stood a whole gaggle of teenagers with Nancy wheeler at the front. They looked like they had run through hell and back, “ Nancy? Wh-what the hell.. “

“ Y/N no questions! We need help NOW! El is hurt, bad. “ with that the group shuffled a groaning, half dead looking Eleven to the front of the group. Her pant leg torn and soaked in blood. Crimson dripping from her nose and tears streaming her face as Mike held her up as any second her legs would give from under her, “ wh—“ “ NO QUESTIONS HELP! “ Mike snapped at Y/N as tears threatened his eyesight. He was obviously on edge, as they all were, but Y/N was going to need some answers at some point. But that point was clearly not now.

He stood staring at the group trying to gather his thoughts, eyes glancing from each face of each teenager. Everyone looked tired, defeated. Faces no one in their right mind would say no to. And why would he? Steve of all people would understand why he was late. Unaware that Steve was even apart of this and what he had just gone through in the past few hours.

He shook his head clearing his throat and motioned them to come inside. But before they all shoved through the door El paused, “ mike…the mall..we need to…go.. “ Y/N stopped and looked at her, “ what is she talking about? “ with a bounce of his whole frame mike considered all options gaze jumping from El to Y/N only to growl in defeat, “ Alright can you grab whatever you can to help? Everyone back to the car we have to go! “

At this point what did he really have to lose? Sighing with no questions asked, he rushed back to his room and dug into a spare bag at the foot of the bed. There was a pretty good reason one would have a weird night shift like Y/N, he was a paramedic. How Steve hooked that one the world will never know. For christ sake the boy works at an ice cream parlor.

Flinging the bag over his shoulder he made his way back to the front. There Nancy stood in the door waiting while the others had packed themselves back into her station wagon. Without a word Y/N pushed past Nancy telling her to close the door behind her. It was fairly obvious why Y/N wasn’t super fond of Nancy. Yet at the same time, he had her to thank. If she didn’t break up with Steve, he probably wouldn’t have met him. At least, been able to date him as long as she were still in the picture. Still, he couldn’t forgive her for how she treated Steve in the end of their relationship.

Steve crossed his mind while they piled into the car and drove off. Being shoved into the back of the wagon digging through the bag to take a look at Els leg, it was all too familiar to work. That’s how he met Steve funny enough. His track record of getting the snot beat out of him, it was no wonder he ended up with a paramedic patching him up. He wasn’t very good at winning fist fights. That was for sure. And that night that Hargrove boy put a pretty good ding in Steve the Hair Harrington. Y/N was still thankful for how it all played out. Even though Steve is far more good looking without a massive black eye and blood dripping from his nose and scattered cuts.

Though he didn’t know how he could truly help here in this situation other than patch El up. He had no experience with these Demagorgon things. The upside down? Hell he didn’t even know what they all looked like. It’s not like the party had a photo or something. Course he did listen to all the stories Dustin had of that pet Dart. Whatever it was. If only he knew what they all were about to experience.

“ This is gonna hurt, “ he whispered to El who hesitantly nodded. All he could really do in this situation was clean the wound and patch it up. Which is exactly what he did. Whatever botch clean up job the teens did at the grocery store, as they told him the story, it wasn’t enough. But to be honest, neither was what he was about to do. She needed stitches that was for sure and they weren’t going to be able to give her that.

What seemed an eternity later the group arrived at the mall and were alerted as Nancy slammed on the brakes almost sending everyone through the windshield, “ god DAMN NANCY! “ max blurted out, “ you’re worse of a driver than I am, “ Nancy sneered at the red head as everyone piled out of the car.

Rushing into the mall it was throwing Y/N completely off. It was dead. Completely dead. But there had to be movies still playing at the theater, Steve only would have just gotten off his shift a short time ago, “ where is..wh… “ his question cut off by the sound of El shushing them. They followed and watched as El began to mess with a car alarm downstairs in the food court. Y/N titled his head as he watched her, more crimson streaming from her nose. He had never really watched her use her powers to a bigger case. Slamming a door, messing with something outside her vision, moving small things here and there. It was all pretty small stuff. But then, in that moment, this small teenage girl lifted a full car with her mind and flung it across the food court. He was pretty sure his mouth was hanging wide open.

They all rushed to the edge of the balcony and watched the aftermath of the ‘crash’. Several bodies were strung about the laminate floor. Blood pooling next to a few. They were dead. He could see that from even this distance. Suddenly, a group of people rose from behind a food vendor counter. Both groups eyes met and suddenly his whole body was on fire. Steve. How on earth did he get roped into this mess now. There next to him Robin, Dustin, and…Erica? What was Lucas’s little sister doing with them? There were so many questions he needed answered.

Without any more time passing by, the two groups ran to meet in the middle. Friends embraced and laughed together. Though the groups were happy to see each other and reconnecting to go over what all had happened in those last few days. Y/N crashed into Steves body arms flung around his neck while he took him in completely. Tears knocking on the lids of his closed eyes. He didn’t even know what all had happened but, he had a sense something was definitely wrong with this whole picture.

It seems they both were late to their date. As he pulled away to embrace lips, he finally saw his face in full. Hands crashed against the sides of Harrington’s head as he turned him and inspected every inch of his injuries. Brows furrowed with frustration as voice was loving but serious, “ Steve Harrington what the FUCK have you done this time?! “

Behind all the interlocked friends, Will Byers stood hand wrapped along the back of his neck. Swallowing hard he spoke loud but softly, “ Guys! He’s here… “

Y/Ns attention was pulled as he watched Will with curious eyes, “ Who’s here… “

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Hi wow sorry it has been a super long time since I wrote anything. Apologies grammar can be bad and I have a weird way of writing. I don’t really ship Steve with guys, that’s just my preference of him, but I hope those who do ship him with the same sex like this little piece. Idk why but as I was writing it all out today it’s just how I imagined this would go.

If people like it enough I could always do a second piece.

My fics will get longer as I go. This was essentially a warm up piece. Thanks for requesting! I had fun with it