#how fucking DAFT do you have to be

[light-bender]

Rereading Rhythm of War and listening to how Gavilar talks to one of the most driven, talented, amazing women in Alethkar like:

I want to haul up this man's soulcast statue and bring him back to life just so She can be the one who gets to kill him this time.

#cosmere #navani kholin #gavilar kholin #rhythm of war #brandon sanderson #the stormlight archive #tsa #i really truly hate this man #the level of committed dedicated verbal avuse he heaps upon her #because you can tell how intimidated he is by her #how dependent he is on her #so he must try and tear her down as low as he can #and even then #hes still quaking in his boots #i want to throttle this man #i want jasnah and dalinar to hear what he said to her #so they can revive and then kill him #because they would #how fucking DAFT do you have to be #how IDIOTIC #to try and insult and tear down such an amazing woman???? #i love navani so much ok? #im happy she found better #and honestly???? #never loved szeth as much as i do in this moment

[got7]

i really need people to get a life if a grown man dating is their reasoning for wanting him out of the group

#how fucking daft do you have to be #j.txt

[drdemonprince]

now i understand on an emotional level how it feels to really want to read a book and connect with an authors understanding of the world and to not be able to. a rare experience for an american english speaker who is spoiled with access and by being centered literally all of the time. obviously i understood intellectually the scope of this problem before all this but because i dont have empathy its still emotionally instructive to actually experience it myself

#have i mentioned that im pretty confident from how agnes callard writes and thinks that she also does not have empathy #like not having empathy does not make you evil or an asshole but it sure does make ME very fucking daft about all emotions including mine #and her kind of curiosity and bafflement at all relationships and feelings and her need to intellectually mediate them feels very familiar #unfortunately many therapists mistake this for over intellectualizing feelings as a distancing maneuver #but no #some of us really do just have to think this shit out #doing a fucking bbc sherlock corny ass deduction montage in my head just to figure out im hungry or some shit

[sapphire-weapon]

But sapphire didn't you hear that the devs didn't want them holding hands????

LMAO STOP

you guys are so fucking stupid fdjsklfhlkhf

#but for real though #who are these people and how do they find me #I DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT PERSON THOUGHT THEY WERE GOING TO ACHIEVE #you're not going to 'gotcha' me with this #every time this comes up i'm just like #oh so you don't understand how game dev works #the guy in question was not an executive producer #those are the only guys who have carte blanche authority to say 'kill this i want it gone' #he was one of two directors #and the other director wanted it in #the director who was telling this story was clearly taking the piss #and the handholding was probably in actuality removed for gameplay reasons #and #let me just say #for the like fifth time #I'M REALLY GLAD THEY TOOK IT OUT #SPECIFICALLY BECAUSE OF THE GAMEPLAY PROBLEMS IT WOULD CAUSE #like holy fuck you daft idiots really think that a game gets designed around the prospective holes that leon can stick his dick into

[luxraydyne]

pop quiz what breed of childhood trauma borne neuroticism is it called when being condescended to on just the most neutral, limpid, nothing thoughts you express like you’re a little silly child, or “out of your depth”, or woefully misinformed, or just speaking on something you shouldn’t cause fuckin hell you’re doing it *wrong*, and with the most plainly obvious remark too, makes you want to chew on your own arm until you reach bone marrow

#i hate internet discourse i hate internet discourse i loathe online Big Fandom it makes me come out in hives #i'm not stupid. i'm NOT stupid. i know this. i'm not being mean and nasty and bitchy either. just saying shit wrong. #siiigh i don't want to just stop making shit and like speaking. about stuff. on the internet. but like also. why would you? #there are exceptions (who i hope would recognise themselves if not i apologise) but largely i am more miserable #and more self destructive more regularly since stepping out of anonymity and engaging with people online #except animal crossing. like everyone i've interacted with through acnh has been. really Nice tbh. which is nuts lol #the stories you hear are almost universally bad and yet everyone i've chatted with albeit briefly has been so nice #i get anxiety over whether or not some stranger i'm never gonna meet thinks i'm an imbecile or not like how stupid is that? it's ridiculous #my self esteem has somehow gone backwards??? #it don't fuckin matter! proving a relative nobody wrong and keeping her in her place don't matter! i mean it's daft but what's the point #and i know i need to internalise that i KNOW but damn it's hard #i want to just say fuck it and leave. become like a fandom esque zombie or whatever. but i also want autonomy over what i've produced now #unless i just delete all that too ig #but why should i!! #i go through this cycle every month it's like having an extra self-loathing hormone #if you're super attached to something w my username on it just download it for yourself you have my blessing give urself peace of mind lol #in principle i want to ghost and all of a sudden i'm am unperceivable and none of it's my damn problem any more lmao #but then i'm too bullish and prideful and egotistical so i'm like 'bbbut my seven tumblr followers who always like my silly text posts uwu' #i'm the dw in this scenario. the sign says 'just leave you're a nuisance' and i'm looking right at it like 'he he. no <3' #even if just doing what the signs says would definitely go some way to help with not wanting to just perish. or the arm chewing thing. #i just. simply. think. i would like to know. what it is i have done specifically #i know the answer is somewhere between nonexistent and nonsensical like it's not worth thinking about #what i've done is exist in a way that is arbitrarily deemed stupid/distasteful/ugly/deviant/noisy/irriating/etc it's irrelevant #and yet. there is a burning black void of needing to know in me. anon hate get into my dms tell me why you dislike me so #nothing is scarier. is the phraseology #like a game of wackamole with every utterance. is this one gonna get bapped with the hammer of 'you are so wrong'? why? does it matter? #who knows....it is a mystery...... #i matter so little! i have 50 followers! two (2) ppl read the fanfic and thought it was 'aight! i don't matter! i am such a tiny fish! #what is even the point just leave me be no one cares! #i *could* redirect this hysterical existential horror energy into my original work. i *should* do that

[feysandfeels]

. 

#I just saw a bad Rhysand take and honestly I cannot *high pitched sound* #like honestly how fucking daft do you have to be do frame that in that way #I am have to go scream into my pillow because truly this is just trying me in ways I am not meant to be tried #Delete Later #I need to have a walk after I scream into my pillow #people in this fandom lack basic understanding of nuance and context #if they read these books in such a black and white manner I just idk man that doesn't bode well for other situations #but no luisa relax everyon has different limits of what they will and will not accept and that is fine #this has nothing to do with the pregnancy btw #deep breaths Luisa deep breaths. #I just why do you have to put down a character to lift another one up #and since Rhys darling is on everyones bad boy list these days I don't know where I can go rant.

[thenerdcommander]

So glad I worked myself out of the explosive temper I used to have because the level of trans/homophobia I just experienced would have set me off so bad I would've gotten kicked out of the house

#I need to work on the urge to hit as well #I don't hit. I don't even swing. but the *urge* to is STRONG #words don't fucking work on conservatives and they just spew the latest fox talking point I don't know what else to do #or how to make it stop #so I walked away after putting in the last word #but they started talking about me when they thought I was too far to hear. as though I'm stupid #but teaching your preschool aged child they have a “girlfriend” or “boyfriend” exclusively of the opposite sex when they're FRIENDS #isn't fucking “science” you daft assholes and nobody is forcing their 2 year old to be gay #just because she plays with cars or he plays with dolls #and even if they were how the fuck is that any different than “forcing” your kid to be straight their entire lives???????? #hatred is the smallest word I can find to describe how I feel about these assholes

[winterarmyy]

Welcome Home, Daddy

The aftermath of when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.

Summary: Bucky was over the moon when he discovered that Y/N was pregnant with his child. But, when the danger that lurks in dark threatened to steal his family away, a fellow soldier decided to come home.

Note: Highly recommend to read 《 Welcome Home... Soldat? 》 for backstory. But, you can also read this as a stand alone (though you might miss some call backs on the soldat's behaviour if you skip)

Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader

Words: 7.1k++ (bare with me, please)

Warnings: graphic violence, torture, blood, gore, deaths, dark undertones, sudden fluff, tiny bit of angst, google translated russian, and just so much detained anger exploding around, soldat is just deadly yet adorable in this one (i can't even handle it, and i'm the author), this event takes place far in the future after what happened in 《 Welcome Home...Soldat? 》

A/N: Looks like we have the winner for the poll 👀 Who's ready for our lovely soldat to make his appearance again? I know I'm not, but here we are. So, strap in and let's do this!

P/S: Also, I might as well make this as my submission for the seven writing event hosted by @nickfowlerrr 💌 Check out the event masterlist and support the writers by reading and reblogging their stories!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

They say the wrath of a fighter may threatened a heinous war but the wrath of a lover will let the earth drenched in bloody gore. And if a fool was daft enough to tore a lover from his other half, then they might just court themselves right into the hands of death.

And this couldn't be more true, especially if we consider the crime that the soldat was currently committing. Surely, the blood pooling on the floor will forever leave a grim mark that'll haunt the people who ever witness it.

"Where is she?" the soldat prompted the frail woman, limping on the chained chair. Despite the horrid situation, he sounded rather calm when he spoke.

How unfortunate it was for Elle to be associated with Hydra yet to also be so exposed to the dangers of the ghost himself, the Winter Soldier. Hydra may have their suspicion about the soldat making a move, but she didn't expect that she would be involved in the mess of this ordeal.

The cold metal of the soldat's vibranium fingers, particularly his index and thumb, latched themselves on another one of her nails. Her mouth slacked open but no sound was able to be formed when the soldat mercilessly ripped her nail right off her finger.

And oh, the pain was beyond any kind of injury that she had ever experienced, not a even a bullet through her flesh could be compared to this agony of a torture.

He harshly grabbed Elle by the back of her neck, forcing her to watch the blood leaking from the reddened flesh of her fingers, "I asked you a simple question, су́ка (bitch). Where the fuck is she?" The soldat's patience had been running thin and rage had clouded his judgements.

He needed to find her. His precious Родная (darling).

No matter whose neck he needed to slay or whose blood that have to be shed dry. He had to bring his darling home; no matter what it takes.

Unfortunately, it had been almost a month since he lost her.

And no one saw it coming.

Who would've thought that the old Hydra compound that the team raided were meant to be a part of a plan to weaken the Avengers. It was just a distraction filled with unexpected traps and triggers. By the time they flew home, the team were already tired and injured as the result of the raid.

So imagine the desperate struggle and utter panic that Bucky had to go through the moment he stepped his foot into the comfort of their home and had to witness Y/N's exhausted figure fighting for her life.

Hers and the baby's inside.

After hitting the 2 months mark of pregnancy, Bucky decided that Y/N shouldn't be involved in any high stake mission anymore. At first, she only laughed to his statement, thinking he was surely joking but when his stern expression didn't flatter, that was when she reliazed Bucky was not open for negotiation.

Y/N knew it was way too early to settle into her maternal leave but after having a long conversation with Bucky, they both agreed to keep her missions strictly on low-risk stakeouts and desk works at the tower.

It was supposedly be some kind of a precaution for her, to keep her and the baby safe, away from any type harm that might come their way. But, that certainly back fired.

When Bucky's burning anger had pumped him full with high stream of adrenaline, it was as if he went into an auto pilot; a murderous one at that. And soon enough he managed to take down half of Hydra's best agents that joined the mission of collecting Y/N from the tower.

For a moment, it seemed like luck was on their side, at least it felt like it.

It lasted only until Bucky saw how harsh the kick of the enemy landed on Y/N's hip, and how she managed to shield her stomach seconds before her body slammed down to the ground.

That was when fear crawled into his pumping nerves and the roots of it ran extremely cold.

And that was all it takes for Hydra to distract Bucky then immobilize him on the spot with a replica of the Sonic Taser developed by Stark Industries a few years back.

Bucky grunted painfully in protest of the high pitched sonic frequency from the device that overloads his nervous system. His body couldn't help but to slowly paralyzed its movements as his skin turned pale and the strain in his blood vessels became visible.

On the opposite side, Y/N could be seen being forcefully dragged away by a few of the Hydra agents that was left. There were couple of nasty injuries torn all over her body yet she was still stubborn on fighting back.

While she was being pulled farther away from him, she shouted his name loud and desprete, "Bucky!" Hot tears broke from the corner of her eyes as she desperately reach out her hand.

It felt as if she was right there when Bucky's hand was reaching back towards her. Like, a little bit of a push would've been enough to catch her but alas fate was not planning to be merciful.

Bucky's menancing eyes never left her wavering ones as Hydra tortured Bucky by stealing a part of his soul from him; and no one really knew how his heart clenched and torn to the fact that he was helplessly useless when Y/N needed him the most.

And when he only managed to scream back Y/N's name, he was forced to watch her wailed as she was unwillingly being taken away.

The moment when Bucky drowned himself in regret and rage, that was when the Winter Soldier took over his consciousness.

Unfortunately for the soldat, his mortal body was already worn out from all the intense fight that happened prior; he was knocked out right after he took over the body.

But in those few seconds before the darkness consumed him, the soldat managed to catch a glimpse of his darling. He saw the image of her; teary and bruised in the hands of those who created him. The very same monsters who uses him for despicable things.

That was all that he needed to see in order to break those chains around the dark pandora residing deep within his being.

The team was absolutely not ready to deal with the soldat again, this time without Y/N to tame him. Especially when his demands were unrealistic for them to fulfill.

It's been nearly 3 weeks since the incident and they had failed to locate Y/N; repeatedly. Even if they did manage to get some kind of an intel, all the of bases they had raided were basically bunch of abandoned spaces that Hydra used to occupy.

So of course the soldat was agitated. He had every right to be, more so when he thought of the increasing risk of his darling getting hurt in the hands of Hydra. And at this point, those scumbags were just messing with their minds. Especially with his.

"Listen, we're doing our best here, soldat." Steve tried to reason with him but it only fueled the burning flames within the soldat, "ты делаешь недостаточно! (You're not doing enough!)" He spat harshly that he didn't even noticed that he uses Russian language. It seemed like the unkempt irritation had conquered the chaos of his mind.

So that very night, the soldat decided to do this on his own; thus he ran away from the tower in search for his darling. He had to. Especially when he knew precisely why the Avenger was not able to find Y/N as quickly as they should be.

It was because they were the good guys. They were the heros, they were the light. And the soldat was not. In fact, he was the very opposite.

Unlike the Avengers, the soldat was not planning to play  nice and soon enough he managed to find a lead.

Which bring us to this very moment in which he successfully snuck into a Hydra agent's home to interrogate her.

But, in contrast of those Hydra troops that attack the Avengers Tower a few weeks ago, Elle was not even involved in the mission of retrieving Y/N. She was actually on a solo mission to infiltrate a certain high school to collect informations on Peter Parker. Hydra suspected that he might be involved with the new hero appearing in Queens.

However, even if she was not a part of the team mission, she knew bits and pieces of the overall plan, especially the whereabout of the main character herself, Y/N.

However, the appearance of the Winter Soldier in her temporary house was completely unexpected.

It felt like it was just few moments ago that the intel on Y/N's location reached her ears. Then, she distinctly remember the glimpse of those murderous eyes glaring into her soul. Next thing she knew was everything went pitch black.

Even if it was temporary, however it felt so surreal.

The darkness surrounding her.

The bone rattling cold.

It felt like death itself.

But unfortunately for her, the soldat was far from stopping.

Elle was fraying at the edges while the soldat crouch to her level. Even if she could barely reconstruct the unclear and blurry images through her dazed eyes, however, that didn't stop the soldat from maiming the dying woman's soul through his unforgiving gaze.

"Wake up..." he growled as he yanked her face upwards, "...we're not done yet."

It took a while for Elle to finally adjust to the light, after being in the dark for – how she felt like – so long.

After the light hits her vision, the striking pain came next. The pulsing pain surrounding of her right eye, her broken nose, her busted lips, her bleeding skin; neck, chest, arms, and almost every part of her limbs.

Everything were – slowly but surely, in each cuts and bruises on her skin – blooming its pain into existence.

How can she skipped all of this when she lost her consciousness?

Perhaps that was how she managed to stay alive as long as she had. By running away from the misery; from her reality.

Elle whined in pain but her voice suggested that she might already torn her throat apart when it sounded more like a broken grunt. Her disoriented gaze fell into her aching fingers, each were missing its nail; the tips of them was where the icky blood trickled from and had shaped a pool of blood on the floor where she rested.

The dim lighting from the room reflected on the surface of the deep-red puddle, revealing the resemblance of it to a mirror. And the blurry image looking back, was the soldat, with a sinister expression on his face.

This game, that they're playing.

It hardly seems fair to one of them. To be tortured if not speaking the truth? That's simply unjust; but if we're talking about fairness, then none of those injuries could ever be compared to the pain Y/N might be going through at this very moment. Every second of Elle's useless stubbornness was costing Y/N's safety.

And the soldat didn't like that. Not one bit.

"You mentioned Spain? Where exactly?" In one swift, harsh motion, the soldat thrust his knife through her thighs, "FUCK!"

The loud scream of pain that tore from Elle's throat was probably the last coherent word that she uttered as the torture continued.

The soldat pulled the knife out and stabbing it into the open wound, he listened to Elle's gasp for a moment, relishing her breathless pleading and the tears now openly streaming down her face.

He stabbed again, twice, each was quick and deep, not caring about the blood that spurted out across his face.

At this point Elle was just a puddle of blabbering mess; streams of saliva pouring out her mouth, sobbing, gasping for air; mixture of grunts, moans and whispers of curses and pleas were all spouted incoherently.

Anger.

Frustration.

Rage.

Wrath.

Even hatred.

The soldat was feeling it all.

It was consuming him, devouring any sanity that was left of Bucky's moral values. The eerie glint in the soldat eyes suggested that he was not planning to stop until she gave him what he wants.

God, if it wasn't for chilling atmosphere around her, Elle might just mistook that she was actually in hell.

"Pyrenees!" She cried out. The soldat instantly stopped when she confessed. He waited for an answer and right on cue, she spoke again, breathless and almost silent as the fear that engulfed her prior refused to release her from its haunting grip. And truthfully she doubt that it will ever let her go, "T-there a secret base n-near the Irati forest."

She exhaled a shaky breath as she pleaded, "S-so please. Please stop this." The was tired of the pain and the numbness that came after. And the soldat knows it.

The room was left silent momentarily, as if he was actually considering her plea but alas he already had plans for her all along, "Shame. You should've killed yourself before I came here."

As he finished the last word, the soldat viciously plunged his knife deep into her neck, digging the sharpness of it through the delicate flesh until it reach the base of the blade.

Elle gasped in response, her hands scrabbling around in effort to break free, to stop all of this. But considering the situation she was in, there was nothing she could do about it other than to take it as it was given to her.

When the motion finally stopped, the soldat simply walked away from the scene as if it was a complete norm for him to behave as he was. He didn't even thought of cleaning the mess he left behind. Or hide the corpse somewhere.

Isn't he afraid that he might leave his tracks for the police to find?

Why would he?

This has been his life for decades on end. His sole purpose of living was to kill. So best believe that the authorities will never be able to link the soldat or Bucky to this crime.

Not today, not ever.

Through the days that Y/N was locked deep within Hydra's base, she hadn't been treated the worst. In fact, the sick and twisted agents and residents in the facility was more than willing to care for her.

This was all because they wanted her baby.

It was always sickening to hear them referring her child as merely a tool for their success. And the way they worship Y/N like she was a gift from God to fulfill their purpose, was beyond insanity.

"Oh, to have the privilage of bearing the offspring of the Winter Soldier. To be able to create the perfect weapon, unlike the father. It is just honorable."

It made her stomach churned with pure disgust whenever she heard those types of comments floating around her.

Besides the eerily digusting behaviour of the agents, there was also the regular check-ups and the lab tests that she needed to attend. Out of all the things she had to endure these past few weeks, the medical check-up has always dreaded her the most.

There was this constant debate within her troubled mind; of the possibility of Hydra manipulating her baby's health and genes by inserting unknown substance into her.

"Come on, mama. On the bed." The doctor said as he patted his rubber gloved hand on the surface of the rigid single bed.

She always found it vile that the people here calling her by that nickname. It tickled her throat in a way that she wanted to puke all the tasteless gunk that they had fed her with.

As she laid on the bed and let the process went on as it usually do, the doctor suddenly stopped everything that he was doing. At first she was weirded out by the irregular act of the man, but when she felt the vibration on the ground and the rushing footsteps from the floor above her, she knew exactly why the doctor suddenly froze on his spot.

And the emergency siren that shortly blared after, had only confirmed her speculation.

But mostly, it was the panic in the doctor's eyes that gave him away; then when Y/N noticed the man scrambled to search the drawers from one of the cabinet, she knew that he was up to no good.

The second that the doctor's hurried his steps towards her with a syringe in his hand, Y/N's body immediately recoiled. She quickly stopped him by grabbing his wrist and twisted it back until the syringe dropped from his hold.

The man cursed under his breath and decided to take her by force when he grabbed a handful of her hair, almost dragging her out of the bed. Y/N shrieked painfully while her hands blindly grabbing the silver tray by the bed next to her.

She then slammed it hard against his head, and watched the contents on the tray fell and scatter onto her. She took quick skim over all the tools and saw a potential weapon for her defence; a scissor.

"Stay still, mama. Or the baby will get hurt." The doctor foolishly threatened.

Maybe it was her defence mechanism or maybe it was just her motherly instinct kicking in but something just snapped inside of her when he said those words. There was this incredibly strong urge to either fight or take flight.

Of course she could easily slipped away and make a run for it but she just couldn't risk it. Especially when her baby's life was currently at stake. So, after a short moment of hesitation, she swiftly grabbed the scissors and surge it through his ribs. The man wailed in pain as he staggered off the bed and fell onto the floor.

You'd thought a single yet firm stab through the guts was enough to quench Y/N's need of fighting back but no. Apparently, the haywire of her nerves had drove her feral and she needed him to be soulless by the time she walk out the room.

That had forced her to nearly jumped on him like a predator pinning on a meek prey and the lack of struggling on the victim's side had only gave her full control to dominate him.

Then all of the sudden, the doctor felt another strike of the pain, digging into the flesh of his chest.

He woefully cried in extreme pain while Y/N did not utter a single word or let out any sound, she stayed silent as she thrusts the scissor in and out his flesh.

Each surge was vicious than the previous. Each stab was gradually speeding up as the motion increases it's number of repetition.

She completely let her emotions took over her sanity.

Until what's left in the room was only the sloshing and splashing sound of blood seeping through every thrust, as she continued to violate the body of the corpse.

Until the calm puddle of blood on floor rippled as the tears that broke from her eyes dropped on it's surface.

And when she realized that the doctor was long dead, that broke Y/N out from her feral state. Realizing what she had done; she shakily loosen her grip on the scissors and scrambled off from the lifeless body.

Her breath was near erratic; it was a chaos of unsteady rhythm as her words was lost at the tip of her tongue. She jolted in shock when the commotion in the facility got louder than before, reminding her that Bucky was there to save her.

Y/N felt a sob choking in her throat as her hands searched her stomach to coax the child in her womb, "It's okay sweet bean, daddy's here for us."

Have you ever heard how ear-ringingly loud it is when it's hailing? How the sounds of the frozen raindrops hitting – the top of your car or the roof of the shades of an outdoor café table – can completely mute your words for anyone to hear?

That has nothing compared to the thundering sounds that echoed throughout the whole facility. The shots were fired from multiple range of stolen guns, all were coming from one moving figure.

The once clean grey and white painted walls of the hallways, were now stained and splattered with the color of crimson. The usually empty hallways, were occupied by the dead bodies of fallen Hydra agents. And the distinct scent of well-kept lair, were effortlessly replaced by the unpleasant and pungent smell; a mixture of blood and sweat.

It was a clear trail of the Winter Soldier's deeds.

This place was supposed to be pristine, but now feels more like how it should be; hell.

While the enemies were roaring into their death, the soldat on the other hand was very much the opposite.

Unlike his foe, it took him very little work from the tips of his tongue and much more on the tips of his gun. When the enemies barked like a dog, the soldat pounced like a wolf; silent and resilient.

By nature, the soldat had never been a patient man, especially when it comes to people harming his darling.

Sure, maybe he can tolerate and play along with people who messed with him, but if one were to touch even a strand of hair of his beloved, then they practically reserving themselves a first class ticket of a one-way trip to hell.

And that unhinged tendencies of his only worsen when wrath was the one reigning his mind while hatred was its ruler. His mind was nothing but a chaos of rampage and vengeance. Seeking nothing but blood and death of his foolish foe.

At this point of time, with the amount of life he had taken from the moment he step foot into the gate of the base, to the very stairs he was currently climbing, one could probably matched his heart rate with the rhythm of the shots formed by the bullets he shot.

Magazine upon magazine he reloaded his gun and waste no less than zero bullet as every shot made was accurately deadly and terrifying fatal to his prey.

As the soldat's feet reached half way up the stairs, a Hydra agent's voice spoke from the lower level, "She's on the LG2, we need a team to come and collect her as soon as poss--" A bullet went straight through the top of his head before he could finish his sentence.

And that was the soldat's last ammo.

While he mentally took note on the intel, his feet was quick to jumped into action and made his way down to LG2. As he entered the hallway, his wild eyes wondered around to steal another gun from a dead man's body.

But he rose into a stand, he felt a tip of a cold steel nudged at the back of his head.

Some would call out the soldat's mistake for letting his guard down in the middle of a battle, but another would definitely ridicule the stupidity of that fool's guts for even thinking that the soldat couldn't counter-attack his weak threats.

However, none of the two man managed to made any move towards each other when there was a faster, more accurate trigger was pulled from someone else, from across the hallway.

And that action left an aftermath of the fool's body to drop flat on the floor, quickly finding it's perfect spot with between the other pile of corpses scattered around.

When the soldat turned around, the sharp of his gaze softened almost immediately.

There she was standing there, in the pastel blue of her 'prison' attire. Her hair was a bit messy even if it was tied, and her complexion looked slightly pale with fatigue but to the soldat, she was glowing like angel; despite the blood on her clothes or the gun in her hand.

She was right there.

His heart.

His love.

His darling.

Her eyes were red and puffy, as if she had been crying for days. Her pouty lips trembled when the soldat stepped closer and closer towards her, tears threatening to fall as if she haven't done that during all the weeks that she had been here.

The soldat's steps grew faster.

So does Y/N's.

Tap taping until they were almost running towards each other.

Until the moment they reunited in the middle.

Catching each other's lips in a desperate and insatiable kiss, the soldat pulled her body tight around the waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Both whimpered in a yearning moan, both still had their guns hanging on one of their hands.

So many feelings at once, relief and grief, with each of them had a different story to tell.

The couple kept breaking and mending the kiss ever-so-passionately as if they weren't in the middle of the grave-less cemetery; as if they weren't in the center of the piling corpses.

Briefly opening his eyes, the soldat could see a shadow running towards them. When Y/N heard the footsteps from her back, she knew they need to pull away, but the soldat was firm and stubborn with his hold.

So instead of letting her break the kiss, he groaned in disapproval and pulled her lips back to his. An angry growl vibrated against her lips as he continued to explore her wet and warm mouth.

Caught off-guard she melted to his silent demand, almost forgot that the enemy was right behind her. But, she should've know better when the soldat loosen one of his arms from the embrace and pointed his gun towards the target.

His finger pulled the trigger almost as easily as his teeth tugging into the bottom of her lips. And suddenly the sound of a body collapsing behind didn't matter anymore.

When the soldat felt that he had enough of the sweetness of her kiss, he finally pulled away, at least for now. He whispered dearly, "Родная (darling)..." he cupped her face in his large hands and rested his forehead on hers.

She thought she heard it wrong, but did he just called her darling? It took her a few second to piece it together and realized that this man was not Bucky, that he had relapsed into the Winter Soldier again, "Soldat?"

The soldat smiled and leaned forward to steal a chaste kiss on her lips, "Yes, it's me, мое Родная (my darling)" he cooed as he swept her by her feet, off the bloody ground and carried her in his arm, "I got you, Куколка (little one). You can rest now."

"We're just wanted make sure she's alright."

"You can follow us if you want so just please--"

"Soldat! You're going to hurt her."

The familiar voices leaked through Y/N's ears as she was drifting through her dreamless slumber. Soon enough, the loud commotion of her surrounding woke her up from the deep sleep.

The words that the Avengers were yelling out became clearer as she gained her consciousness, and the ever-changing movements of the soldat, evading every step the Avengers made to get closer to him, made her aware of the way she was resting in his arms; perfectly cocooned in a form of a bridal carry style.

The soldat halted on his spot when Y/N opened her eyes to see what was going on, "Soldat?" She blinked multiple times as she adjusted to the lights. The menacing frown of the soldat melted into a much softer expression, "Родная(darling), you shouldn't be awake yet." He craddled her closer to him as he cooed.

Where is she? How long was she out? When did she changed her clothes?

"What is happening?" She asked as she peered over his shoulder to see Natasha sighing in relief, "Sweetheart, thank god you're awake."

Y/N then looked over to Steve, "You've been gone for weeks, y/n. We got news about your rescue yesterday, and you guys just arrived home. Now, if we could just to take you to the medbay and get you check-up, that'll be great." He briefly explained.

"Yeah, that's all we want isn't it? But, someone just had to be sappy and refuse to let anyone touch you. You know, how it is with the soldier." Tony quickly intercepted.

The soldat didn't pay them any attention now that his darling was awake. He was merely focusing on whispering the sweetest things as he traces delicate trails of kisses on her forehead, her nose, her cheek, basically all over her face.

Sam took it as opportunity to get closer when the soldat was distracted on suffocating Y/N with kisses. But he should learn by now how alert and agile the soldat can be, especially when he have Y/N close to his proximity.

So, when Sam took a step closer, the soldat recoiled almost immediately, putting quite of a distance between them.

"Man, if Bucky has a staring problem, then the winter soldier over here has a hogging problem." Sam accusingly pointed at the soldat, only getting grunts as a reply.

Looking at the current situation, Y/N pondered for awhile. As much as she wanted to get herself check-up, it was also wise to not pressure the soldat to give her away.

Considering what she witnessed at the Hydra base, Y/N knew the risk that comes when we let the soldat dwell in anger for too long.

So she consulted the rest of the team to back down for now, and let the soldat do what he wants. Y/N promised them that she will conviced the soldat to let her get a check-up as soon as possible. But for now, they really need to trust her words.

At first every one of them was reluctant to let her go but in the end they agreed to her suggestion.

When the team spread out and gave some space for the soldat, he didn't waste any time and marched straight to where their bedroom supposed to be. As soon as they arrived at their safe space, the soldat almost threw Y/N onto the bed and swiftly drew a knife from the holster of his thigh as his predatory eyes searched the room.

He refused to move even an inch away from where he stood and remained close to Y/N; shielding her figure with his own.

It was very faint, but the soldat could sensed that they weren't the only ones in the room.

Y/N eyed him curiously, wondering why the soldat was still on edge when he wasn't supposed to. So, she hopped off from the bed and stood on her feet before reaching out to hug the soldat from behind.

"You can put the knife down, soldat. It's just us here." She coaxed but the soldat refused to believe her. He pulled her by the arms, breaking her hug in the process and hold her close to his chest, "There's someone else here."

His actions was rather rougher than he intended it to be; even Y/N was startled by the sudden movement, "Oooff, careful there, soldat. You might give the little one a fright." She chuckled softly as she give her belly a loving rub.

And suddenly his attention was completely focused on Y/N now. Usually his frown symbolized irritation, but this time there was a clear confusion in his eyes. The amount of appalled blinking of his eyes increases when the puzzle pieces in his head started to merge.

The soldat knew that he heard a third heartbeat in the room; that was why he was on alert for threats but apparently he had been closer to the source than he thought was.

In fact, it was right his arms. Or maybe a little bit lower, somewhere around his torso.

Y/N didn't say anything, she simply nodded and smiled up to him as she continued to rub her belly.

When the conclusion finally hits him, the soldat dropped the knife in his hand at the same time he fell on his knees. His gaze never broke from hers, not even a split second, until he was face to face with her tummy.

The soldat leaned one side of his ear closer to her and the thumping sound of the third heartbeat got louder. The discovery had caused him to jolt away as shock decorated his features. He titled his head upwards to Y/N with the same wide, confused look in his blue eyes.

"It's okay, love." She giggled amusingly when the soldat repeated his previous actions. He leaned in and jolted back again as if he couldn't believe what he just heard was real, "Is it... his?" The soldat asked as he implied his existance to be separated from Bucky.

There was a hint of sadness in Y/N's expression when he said it like that. There's been many long conversations that she and Bucky had about the soldat after his first relapse.

Though Bucky was still unsure of his own dissociating self, Y/N on other hand believed that the soldat, this particular man whose drenched the earth with blood just to save her, the same man whose currently on his knees to hear a heartbeat of an unborn child; he deserved a little kindness in his life.

"Yes..." Y/N answered truthfully before she continued, "...and he's yours too."

And that surely knocked the air out of the soldat's lungs, he couldn't tell if she was telling him the truth or was just trying to kill him; either way the butterflies in his chest was suffocating him from the inside.

The soldat couldn't speak a single word; because he didn't know what to say. But there was this beam on his features, light in his eyes, softness on his smile when he dreamily stared at her growing belly.

Y/N took him by his flesh hand and place his palm on her stomach, then she spoke tenderly to the baby inside her, "Wanna say hi to daddy, sweet bean? Say, 'Welcome home, daddy.' "

She knew it was silly, because obviously the child in her womb shouldn't be able to speak, and he was not yet developed enough to be kicking his feet. Hell, they don't even know his gender yet.

But how could she not say it when the soldat looked so damn happy when she did. He looked so peaceful and has this daze and some of those twinkling hearts in those steel-blue eyes of. The soldat sighed in pure joy before he leaned to kiss her stomach.

And as it turns out that was all she needed to do to persuade the soldat to letting her see the doctors. He was there through the whole process, refusing to let go of her hand. It was such a good news to hear that the baby was healthy and there wasn't any foreign substance that might contaminated her during her times in Hydra.

After getting proper medical care and some food in her system, the soldat immediately carry her back to their room to settle down. While she laid on the bed, making up for the lost time to finally get the mental rest she desperately needed, the soldat on the other hand, had made himself comfortable by lying his head on her stomach.

He just couldn't stop; as if he was hypnotised by the melody of the baby's heartbeat. His hand snuck under her shirt, lifting the fabric up to reveal the belly where their miracle resides.

Y/N's droopy eyes followed his actions as she watched how carefully the soldat approached her. Out of habit, her hands absentmindedly rake through the softness of his hair as she held him by the head.

The soldat dotingly caressed the child's sleeping chambers as he leaned closer to it, "...Hi there, little one." he greeted with a quiet and loving whisper.

Immediately, a smile beamed brightly on Y/N's face when the soldat proceed to pamper her belly with countless of tender kisses, "...it's daddy." he introduced himself, as if the baby was able to understand him.

The silence that came after was so sweet and comfortable. And Y/N knew she wouldn't be able to have this without the soldat. She tucked a piece of his loose strand of hair behind his ear when she spoke gently, "Thank you for saving me, soldat."

He briefly lifted his head and smiled up at her, "You know I can't live without you Родная (darling). I will always need you." He declared a truthful confession before turning his attention away. His lips grazed on the skin of her belly as he mumbled against it, "And you too, little one."

Y/N could burst into tears just from this interaction alone but she try not to. She doesn't want to look back at this moment and remember how much she wept, so she blinked her tears away while she watched the soldat spoiled the little buddle of joy inside her with so much endearments.

Even though it was always a happy memory for the soldat when he spend time with his darling, but this... this was rare. And he wanted to cherish it for as long as he could.

The soldat laid on his ears again when he peered from where he had his head rested, his deep gaze captured her attention, "Has he been taking care of you good, darling?" He asked.

The soldat probably had no idea how Bucky adored her; if anyone paid enough attention they might even caught him worshipping the very ground she stepped on.

A breathy chuckle escaped from her mouth as nodded with a drunken grin, "He's the best." She hummed approvingly, "Best husband, and best daddy too." She exclaimed brightly as she glanced at the ring on her finger; it was barely visible through the thick of the soldat's hair.

Surprisingly, the soldat didn't react negatively to her remarks, instead, a proud smile curved on his lips as the pride in his chest overflowed and leaked all through his very being, "Good." He simply said.

The smile lines on the corner of his eyes didn't flatten even when he closed his eyes. For a moment, he tried to silenced everything else around him and focused on the fluttering sounds of the baby's tiny heart.

It might have been the thick haze of lavender smoke in their head or the swarming butterflies in their chest, that they didn't even notice the fatigue that had been slowly taking over them, until the tenderness of their caresses were barely moving.

When the heaviness of her eyes weighted the lids, she sleepily asked the soldat, "Will you still be here when I wake up?" Truth to be told, she was afraid that all of this was just a dream; an escape from reality of the cruel captivity.

The soldat briefly opened his own tired eyes and cooed softly, "I'm always with you, Родная (darling)." And Y/N took it as a promise for her desprete soul to cling on; a ray of hope for her to hold onto, if she ever wakes up in that cell again.

Not long after, both of them lost to the lure of somnolent and their soul quickly drifted into the peaceful dreamland. Soft snores were filling the quiet of the room as their mortal body continued to entangled themselves with each other.

It was safe to say that if Steve would ever barge into the room, he'd probably maxed the storage of his phone with photos of the soldat smushing his face on Y/N's belly as she perfectly curled around him.

Maybe it was the sunlight leaking through the window or maybe it was the intense gaze she felt burning on the skin of her face. Eitherway, it certainly disturbed her from her sleep.

When her body stirred, Y/N realized that she didn't need to open her eyes to know that last night was not a dream, especially when she can feel a pair of familiar arms wrapping around her waist under her shirt.

Y/N slowly peeled her eyes open to see a recognizable ceiling. Her eyes then trailed to her side and met a pair of blue of eyes staring back at her. Her gaze searched for the soul within him and found the semblance of Bucky reflected in his eyes.

Still dazed from sleep, she continued to watch him blinking at her, slowly and silently, like a cat declaring their love to their human. But even then, he couldn't hide the afterglow of the tears on his face.

"Bucky, honey. Have you been crying?" Her voice rasped from lack of use, yet her tender fingers find themselves crawling across his wet cheeks. 

It was as if her voice was a trigger, and tears quickly reformed in Bucky's eyes again. Y/N gently pulled him to her chest, one hand threading his hair and another rubbing his back as he sobbed in her arms, "It's okay, Bucky. We're okay." She continued to coax him lovingly.

They spend most of the early morning holding each other close and dear. Then when the tears started to lessen, Bucky finally pulled himself away from her. Y/N wiped the excess tears on his cheeks but he caught her hand underneath his; he relished in the relief of her presence when he sighed to her touch.

Bucky's gaze wobbled in the pool of tears in his eyes but he was still determined to speak his mind  "I'm so sorry, doll." He apologized, "I couldn't stop them. Even with this damned serum in me, I still couldn't protect you; both of you." If his defeated voice didn't convey his truth, then the tremble of his touch should be enough.

And Y/N's heart simply shattered for him; what did he meant by that? He did save her though. The winter soldier or Bucky. It didn't matter who but she was here now because of him. She was safe; they both were, "But you saved me, did you not?"

"But, I didn't. The sol--" Before Bucky could even finish his sentence, Y/N quickly cuts in, "The soldat is always going to be a part of you, Bucky. And if he saved me, that means you saved me too." She reassured him.

Seeing the hesitation in his eyes, she continued to persuade him, "And if I could speak for our child, which I absolutely can because I'm his mother, then he would say that he is proud that his strong daddy managed to beat the absolute shit out of those bad guys."

Bucky blurted out a hearty laugh, "I don't think it's good to teach our baby to curse when he is still in your womb, mama." His laugh gradually reduced to a chuckle when he wiped the remaining tears from his eyes.

Y/N simply shrugged to his suggestion, "It's not like he wouldn remember this anyway." She smirked playfully.

Another chuckle managed to slip through Bucky's lips before he lowered his face to her tummy, "And you? How's your play date with Winter, hmm sweet bean?" He mumbled as his lips planted on her skin.

Besides the heartbeat of his child, he could also hear the tiny twitching of the baby's limbs moving ever-so-slightly, "Yeah, I bet he spoiled you with lots of kisses and cuddles, huh? Like he did your mommy?" He continued to coo against her belly, unaware of the shock on his wife's face.

"Winter?" A small smile cracked from the corner of her lips. Yes, she was shocked but that doesn't mean she wasn't pleasantly surprised by it.

Bucky didn't even bother to look up at Y/N's face as he was busy blowing raspberries on her stomach, "If he's going to keep popping up in our lives then we might as well call him something else other than 'soldat', don't you think?" He simply said, marking one last kiss on the small growing bulge on her belly, before working his way back up to her face.

Y/N's heart swelled to his gesture and when he laid his head next to hers, she carefully took him by his cheeks, pulling him in for a gentle kiss, "I think he'd love that, Bucky." She whispered against his lips, feeling his smile in return.

Bucky nudges forward to catch her lips again; kissing her slow and sweet as if his whole world has been waiting for this moment. And when the kiss naturally broke, he tempted her with something he knew she couldn't resist, "Now, how about we grab you both something to bite, hmm?"

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: The use of the title in the fic is suprisingly wholesome despite the insinuation of it, don't you think? Lol. Btw, thank you so much for stopping by and read my work. Leave your thoughts behind for me, I'd love to hear from you!

#winterarmyyfics #welcome home soldat au #the seven writing event #nickfowlerrr’s writing event #winter soldier!bucky #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #winter soldier x you #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier fluff #bucky fluff #nickfowlerrr's writing event

[neo-nomatrix]

(My) Nuisance

Hobie brown x reader

word count: 964

find the rest of the mini series here

synopsis: You thought you hated Hobie, but for some reason you’re starting to like him just as much as you like Spiderman.

a/n: (maybe too much) british slang used

You hate your next door neighbor. No, no you loathe your next door neighbor. You think he is the worst person to possibly exist. His stupid flat decorations, his loud punk-rock music blasting at unruly hours, the way he would come back to his flat at 4 am stomping his boots yelling with his friends about their latest anarchist protest. But you hate nothing more than the way he looks at you.

Everytime you try yelling at him he opens his door with the cheekiest grin on his face. While you’re standing there fuming he’s leaning against the door panel looking you up and down. The worst part is how much he tries to smooth talk you.

“I already told you how annoying your music is, no one wants to hear that at 3 am alright? Some of us have work in the morning,” you complain, smoke practically coming out of your ears.

“Oh c’mon love it’s not that bad. Don’t have to be such a tosser ‘bout it. It messes up that pretty face of yours,” he says.

“Are you daft? You’re the one keeping everyone up at night with your dumb guitar,” you roll your eyes.

“It’s not that big a deal sweetheart. Y’know i'm starting to think you’re making up rubbish just so you can talk to me more. I’ll admit it’s pretty cute but you could just ask me out,” he leans closer to your flushed face.

“I don’t fancy you if that’s what you mean,” you scoff.

“Not saying that. I’m saying if you wanna snog me so bad you could just say so,” he shrugs.

You could burst out laughing. Kiss him? That’s fucking hilarious.

“You’re joking right? i’d rather die.”

“I don’t believe in comedy, love,” he says.

“Of course you don’t,” you mumble as you storm off back to your door.

You’ve decided he is the worst person ever. He doesn’t deserve your efforts and time.

You set your keys down and fall into bed as you hear amp feedback and the sounds of Hobie strumming his guitar. You can’t help but roll your eyes. How could someone be so incompetent?

You reach your hand over to where the bed and the wall meet to grab your Spiderman plush. You hate to admit it because it’s kind of dumb but you’ve always loved spiderman. Ever since you were a little kid you collected posters, figures, pins, and merchandise having to do with the superhero. Even now, your walls are decorated in spiderman posters, you own spiderman clothing, and even printed your keys to have a blue and red spider web on them.

There was something so nostalgic to the vigilante and his style that you had to adorn your room with touches of blue and red. You thought spiderman was the embodiment of “cool.” From his suit to the way he acted around criminals to the electric guitar on his back. Sure, a guitar was the main thing you hated about Hobie but Spiderman did it better. He made it work in the way Hobie dreams of.

You wake up to the loudest knock on your front door you’ve ever heard. You immediately know it’s him. You try to ignore the blaring pounding coming from your door but it keeps going. You force yourself to get up and answer the door. You hope you can open it, yell at him, then go back to bed.

To your dismay the second you open the door Hobie places his hand on the top of the wood, stopping you from moving it anywhere else.

“What do you want this early?” you groan.

“It’s like 9 am, love. But anyway-” He cuts himself off before finishing his sentence. You’re too groggy to notice that he’s staring inside of your flat. His eyes search the walls and decor in front of him.

“So, I take it you like Spiderman?” He laughs.

“That’s none of your business,” you sigh, crossing your arms.

He pushes his way inside of your flat, moving around like he’s looking for buried treasure. He picks up memorabilia and smiles at them. He holds up a Spider-Punk figurine and turns towards you.

“Spider-Punk huh?”

“Don’t touch my stuff! You know this is technically breaking and entering,” you scold him, taking the figure out of his hand.

He puts his hands in his pockets and just smirks at you. That stupid smirk, displaying half of his teeth and perfectly showing his lip ring.

“What do you want from me, Hobie?” you question after placing the figure back on its stand.

“Jus- Just wanted to apologize for last night,” he starts.

“You mean this morning? We talked at 1 am, remember?” You say, passive aggressively.

“Right, whatever. You’re… You’re right,” he exhaled, “I shouldn’t be blasting my music that early. It’s inconsiderate and rude to the people in my vicinity,” he breathes.

In the time you’ve known him you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say sorry. You’re taken aback, did he really apologize? And did he sound genuinely sorry?

“Oh, oh uhm thanks,” you sat, still skeptical a camera crew would come out laughing saying this whole thing was a prank.

“I wanted to see if you maybe wanted to come to my show tonight? We could get dinner after or whatever you want,” He scratches the back of his neck, he’s nervous.

“I’d like that, I guess,” you reluctantly say.

“Wicked. Uhm, i’ll be leaving then. Sorry again,” he says. Shooting finger guns at you and making his way out the door.

You smile, maybe, just maybe, Hobies getting to you. As he’s leaving you could swear you see some blue and red material with spikes on it slipping out of his pocket.

#spiderman x y/n #spiderman atsv #spiderverse x reader #spiderman x reader #hobie brown #atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader #spider punk #spiderpunk x reader #spiderpunk x y/n #marvel x reader #spiderman atsv x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman x you

[karmavongrim]

Dear Father fanfic idea

DC x DP crossover fanfiction

Fanfic idea of Danny adopting everyone. He’s worse than Batman since he does it 200% deliberately with no age nor race restriction.

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

“Absolutely fucking not.”

Yeah, nope. No way in hell was he, John mother-fucking Constantine going to let this happen. Only over his dead body, which might actually be the case by the end of the bloody day if they couldn’t come up with something else other than that. And he wasn’t going to change his mind no matter how much the kid currently gallivanting as a demi-god whined. Wasn’t that a news when he found out several months ago.

“Come on Constans, we both know he wouldn’t mind. Besides what else can we do, we’ve tried everything.” Captain Marvel pleaded with the older man as he gestured their surroundings.

It couldn’t be described as anything else other than apocalyptic. A complete fucking shitshow.

Apparently a prophecy of some kind came to fruition right under their bloody noses and they were left grasping straws to try and stop the end of the world from happening. If only-

“Call him or I’ll call him John! Your choice.” Pressed Marvel who was getting fed up with the magician’s nonsense but he wasn’t bugging, no siree!

“Shut up, we don’t need his help! Just let me-” John yelled while buried head first in his spell book, desperately trying to find away that didn’t require him to relinquish the last few pits of his shabby dignity. Or what was left of it anyways. But Marvel was having non of it.

“Nope, that’s it! I’m making the call!” The red glad man shouted over the blonde brit and pulled out his personal phone which looked like it had been pulled strait out of a sci-fi movie.

This caused John to lunge at Marvel who in return floated away out of his reach.

“Are you daft? I’ll never hear the end of it so don’t even- Hey! Don’t you dare, I swear-!” They were quickly interrupted by a black looming silhouette quickly approaching them.

“I hope that you two have come up with something since you’re able to play around like this.” Batman demanded in gruff manner, man looking worse for wear just like the rest of them. Marvel swiftly positioned the dark one between him and his would-be assailant.

“Oh we did have a solution from the very start but someone thinks that we don’t need any help. His poor ego wouldn’t be able to handle it.” He told as he threw a look over his makeshift barrier’s shoulder.

“Shut your cakehole.” John hissed but was reluctantly put in place by a hard glare from mister darker and gloomier who turned to the floating magic-user.

“What is this solution exactly? Help from who or what?” At his inquiry the boy-man hero couldn’t help but beam when he began to explain what, or rather who he had in mind.

“Well I was thinking calling our-” But he was rudely cut in before he could get far.

“We aren’t calling anybody because we don’t need his help! We can take care of this on our own!” Batman turned back to the blond and was clearly at the end of his patience.

“We are running on borrowed time Constantine, if there is any chance to for us to stop this then we should take it since we don’t have any other options left.”

The two began to argue so heatedly that they didn’t pay attention to Marvel speed dialing the number he kept close to his heart. With a dopey grin he bounced on his heels while he waited for the other side to answer. After just two rings the line connected.

“Hi kid! What are you calling in for, did you get out of work already?” A jovial, baritone voice rang out which instantly relaxed the kid-not-kid hero. The all-composing feeling of warmth, protection and safety could almost be felt through the phone which never failed to make him feel comfortable and at peace.

“Hi dad! No, I’m still at work and we kinda shorta need your help. Badly.”

He could near feel the change in his father’s mood and he definitely heard it in his voice.

“What do you need? Where are you?” Came the rapid questioning. His smile never left as he thought how dad always went strait to business when it came to his family and friends. Always ready to help no matter what or why.

“Well, apparently the apocalypse is happening and we have no idea how to stop it… Can you help us? Please?” He tentatively asked as he glanced back at the bickering duo. Sometimes he asked himself if he really was the only secret child there.

“Ha ha, no need to beg, let alone ask. I’ll be there in a jiffy once I know where you guys are. Just try and hang in there kid.” Voice on the other side commented in lighter tone.

Marvel let out a sigh. He knew that everything would be okay after all.

“Thanks dad. We are currently stuck on Metropolis in it’s central, it’s a complete mess in here.”

“Everything will be fine. See you soon.” The voice chuckled and cut the call.

Yes, everything would be just fine. He turned to call out to the idiots who looked to be near ripping each other a new one.

“You two can stop now, he’s already on his way!”

He had to wince at the speed which the blonde turned his head to stare at him. Then came the familiar cursing.

“Fucking shite!”

He merely rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in irritation. He glared at the magician.

“Seriously, what’s your problem? It doesn’t have to be this difficult you know.”

Before John could comment, Batman pushed pass and stalked up to Marvel.

“Who did you call?”

He couldn’t say much before more of their fellow heroes started to trickle in. Flash no surprise being the first.

“Hope you got something up your utility belt Bats, we can’t take this much longer.” Pleaded the red speedster. He was joined by Green Lantern carrying injured Superman and ouch did he look roughened up.

“Have to agree with Flashpoint. Were running out of juice fast, and even Big Blue is out cold.”

Marvel looked at the others coming in. Martian Manhunter, Zatara, Wonder Woman, Black Canary and even Doctor Fate was there, none of them looking any better.

“Well, I’m glad to announce that help is on their way so we can all sit back and relax for a bit. This will be over in no time.” He declared brightly.

The others goggled at him like he made the most outlandish statement in all of history, minus Constantine who has decided to use this small window of calm to drown his headache in his flask while he still can.

“What the hell are you on about? What help? Who could possibly help with this!” Flash yelled out the question in everybodies mind.

“I would like to known this too finally.” Batman demanded this as well.

Seeing everybody hanging onto his up coming explanation he smirked at John who gave him oh-so-eloquently middle finder in retaliation. Well to bad, he would have to just deal with it, the big baby.

“Oh nobody too important, just the most powerful and influential being in all multiverse. Some of you might know him by his monikers like the First Champion, the Balancer, the High King and the Great One.” He said flippantly as he pretended to check his nails, trying his absolute best to hid his smug smile when he noticed Zatara and Fate going rigid and pale.

Zatara near stumbled thanks to his shaking knees. He took couple faltering steps towards the Champion of Magic. His expression mix of reverence and fear as started to whisper as if dreading that someone or something might hear him if he spoke too loudly.

“Y-You couldn’t possibly mean King-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence for they all felt the change in the air, in the ground.

He has arrived.

Time came to a crawl, the world slowed it’s movements in face of approaching force. It quaked, it trembled, it slithered. Leak becoming a downpour, a tear in reality of sickly green opened above the group, high out of reach. What little light still had remained in the hellish landscape around them were drained as if all the world’s shadow congregated around the opening to greet its master like a deprived servant. Then a figure of black and white caped in light seemingly holy, descended from it. Even from afar they could distinguish their towering form who’s muscles failed to hide under its full-body armor. Their mountainous presence becomes more and more apparent the closer they came. What they thought as wings of pure and white was actually a cape of moving light.

Blazing green eyes as that of the tear gazed upon them from under their moonlight hair, which coupled with the iron grown of flames created figures of shadow dancing across their hardened features as if to praise their beholder’s glory.

Zatara had already collapsed on the ground in utter disbelieve. All the myths and legends were true all along.

“King Phantom.” He spoke in awe and bowed before the king as did equally shocked Doctor Fate.

“Hi dad!” Marvel yelled and dragged the laughing magician by his coat to greet their new arrival.

All of their associates looked between the clear powerhouse of a being and their red heavy hitter in utter incredulity at the revelation. Zatara and Fate near had a heart attack at the way their magical colleague addressed the mythical presence. Marvel had a father? And this horrifying existence was it? What sent them reeling even more was how the king’s responded.

With his arms stretched he lowered himself fully to gather the two smaller men in his embrace.

“Kids! Boy, when you said that you needed help bad I think you might have underestimated a tiny bit.” He joked with a toothy smile as he moved to get a better look at his more-or-less willing captees of his affection. His expression softened even more at the face of Constantine, not the others could see.

“John, it’s so good to see you as well.” He said softly and ruffled both of their hairs, eliciting a laugh from his youngest and indignant pout from his fourth oldest who tried to swat the offending hand away.

“Whatever.” John growled but Phantom didn’t mind since he could see the blush caking his scratched up cheeks.

Now this drew his attention, both of his boys were in horrendous shape and he would do something about it after his job was completed. Looking at the blood willed sky no longer colored by his green and the burning wreckage that is this dimensions earth, he knew he didn’t have much time.

“I suppose we should get this over with then. You two better get back to the Keep after this, understood.” He stated and then was gone just like that.

Now that the oppressive feeling of death and power has left along with the godly being, every single one of the heroes present turned to the two for explanation. Marvel send a pleading look towards his brother, but John pointedly turned away and began to nurse his briefly forgotten drink which was now empty, damn you dad.

Discreetly gulping his nerves down he twirled to face his peers.

“Okay, let’s start with one question at a time please.”

This caused the floodgates to open and Zatara practically jumped him in his feverishness.

“You are a son of King Phantom? The King Phantom? I thought he was nothing more than a myth! A legend told through out several histories!”

As Marvel was trying to dislodge the man he was approached by Doctor Fate.

“I too held the believe that he was nothing more than a story to strike fear onto the forces of evil and to aspire heroes of both old and new. To think he was real this entire time.” He mused, and before Marvel could say anything, Flash barged in as well.

“And what about you John? This might be the first time I’ve seen any otherworldly being be happy to see you.” He pointed at the man who chose to wisely stay far behind.

“Fuck you too!” Shouts the offended man from the back. Even if it’s true doesn’t make it any less rude. And oh look here comes Batman.

“Enough! Marvel, explain.” He demands as he moves effortlessly to the front of the pack.

“Well… you see-” Marvel stammers as he tries under the pressure to come up with something to say but was thankfully saved by the sky shifting again.

As quick as a snap the red sky was returned to its blue color, signaling the King’s victory over his enemy. Marvel smiled widely and even John couldn’t stop a heavy sigh of relieve from escaping his mouth. Good old dad, always up to any task he comes across.

“Incredible.” Wonder Woman gasped, even Lantern had to give an impressed eyebrow at the instant change in atmosphere. And while everyone was distracted by his dad’s handiwork, Marvel shimmied his way to the grumpy magician who was in progress of making his getaway.

“I think we should continue this some other time, there’s a lot of cleaning up to do and me and my bro need to do a little house call. So bye!” He called out with a wave as he was crabbed and transported to their destination before anyone could stop them.

Others could do more than blink as Batman stewed in his place. In Lantern’s arms Superman began to stir.

“H-huh, what did I miss?”

#dp x dc fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #dc x dp crossover #dp x dc #dc x dp #captain marvel #john constantine #batman #wonder woman #green lantern #flash #superman #martian manhunter #black canary #dear father fanfic #danny phantom #doctor fate #zatara #king danny phantom #god danny phantom #op danny phantom #justice league #dad danny phantom #ghost king danny phantom #danny adopts john constantine #danny adopts billy batson

[soapskneebrace]

GhostReaderSoap:

Two jacked boyfriends=you will get scooped at the funniest moments. Standing in front of a shelf they want access to? Scooped. Trying to start an argument? Scooped. You weigh nothing. You’re a bunch of grapes. Yes, even you. They know how to lift with their knees.

Soap is likely closer to you in size so his clothes are the ones you steal most often. Ghost isn’t miffed about it, no he isn’t, pet, don’t be daft. He wasn’t daydreaming about watching you sleep in his shirt. Don’t be ridiculous.

A lot of two-timing jokes, mostly made by Soap, but Ghost will play along. “What do you MEAN you have a boyfriend?” he’ll ask you, with Ghost standing right there. Ghost, immediately choosing violence, “As if you could fuck them better than I could.”

Soap is the designated pastry chef of the polycule. He can be caught in gray sweat pants and a tight white tank top, flour coating his forearms, kneading bread dough at stupid hours in the morning. You and Ghost have to race each other to suck him off, because Johnny baking is peak Johnny.

Johnny is also the cuddliest. If he catches you or Ghost on the couch he will belly flop on top of either of you and bury his face right between the titties.

Two big boys means soft snuggly sleeping arrangements, right? WRONG. It’s a fucking furnace between them. Ghost is the designated middle sleeper until winter, because Soap absolutely runs the hottest.

If you ever had any reason to be afraid of going out drinking, you don’t once you’re with them. You have double scary dog privilege in their company, and it doesn’t go away when they’re deployed. If you frequent the same pubs while they’re gone, the other regulars know not to fuck with you if they value their lives—and genitals—intact and unharmed.

Having two military partners has other benefits. You can trust them to be as keen to keep a tidy home as you are.

Soap is the one most eager to decorate when the three of you move in together. Ghost is…not enthused. Some part of him is always ready to burn home down if he has to. He’ll indulge you and Soap, though.

Another benefit to being with the both of them is that you’re alone a bit less than you otherwise might be with a SpecOp partner. Their deployments don’t always intersect, although it does happen pretty often.

It’s Soap’s idea to write you letters only to be opened after they’ve left. Ghost isn’t good at it, but his notes can always be found with Soap’s. They’re simple, short—it’s hard for him to be vulnerable still. He doesn’t promise anything. But he does always tell you he’ll try to get Soap home to you if he can.

#ghost x reader x soap #I might add more later

[horsegirlzero]

one habit (amongst many) of hino's that i find particularly irritating is how she pairs up the humans/hunters with vampires in an utterly uninspired, lazy, cheap, and ridiculous attempt to show that interspecies romance conquers all or whatever bc it's so out of touch.. literally the shitty shoujo manga equivalent of what they do in bridgerton where they think a king marrying a black woman can magically erase racism

#hino treats the hunters in general so callously its insane to me. this woman genuinely GENUINELY has no idea how to write characters like #her grasp on what motivates characters and what drives them and influences them to make the choices they make is so shallow #characters like zero and yagari have so many traumas deeply rooted in the experiences they've had with vampires #zero watching his parents getting slaughtered in front of his very eyes #yagari having to kill his own FIANCEE bc she got turned by a pureblood #(and kaito having to do the same for his brother) #and you're telling me they'd just go fall in love with vampires? after all that they've went thru? are you fucking daft? #genuinely want to perform experiments on hino like a rat in a cage and inspect her to see how her mind works #(it probably doesn't lbr)

[tigerpeachs]

Late Night - Megumi Fushiguro

-`ღ´- tags: 18+, fem reader, smut, a little angst, dubcon (consent not given but mutual intentions), pwp, cum shot, choking, fingering, alcohol consumption, praise

-`ღ´- wc: 1.5K

-`ღ´- a/n: I didn't edit this and this was 100% a "write it even if it's not your best work" fic. I'm trying to produce shorter works and feel better rather than stressing over a bigger project. Anyways. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

-`ღ´- synopsis: After a night of drinking you decided to unblock and visit your ex.

Fuck. Fucking fuck. You shouldn’t have unblocked Megumi. You shouldn’t have smiled as your drunken fingers danced over his contact info. You shouldn’t have spoken so casually to him on the phone. And when you showed up on his doorstep, squinting your eyes to concentrate through the liquor disorienting your body, you thought this would be just a fun accident.

You liked to play dumb. You waltzed right in, placing your bag in its normal spot, bouncing as you tried to settle yourself on his large sectional couch. You know the endless questions would soon approach you but you decide to concentrate on haphazardly kicking your shoes off. Yet instead of questions you were met with silence.

Your senses clicked back in for a second.

You were dead wrong.

You couldn’t concentrate. Not through the rush of teeth clashing against each other, not through him pulling at your clothes, tugging your top down and unbuttoning your jeans in record time. You didn’t even think to kiss him back from how quick he was to take his lips away. You wanted to gasp for air, but the only thing you could do was let out an urgent whine of his name.

And when he finally reached inside your pants and ran his fingers up and down your cunt, you felt embarrassed. You didn’t realize how soaked you were until he finally touched you. Megumi’s tongue ran across your nipple before he sucked at the skin around your areola. His teeth scraped against the skin causing you to tense up, then two large fingers slid inside you.

You couldn’t think properly. A wet clicking noise filled the room as he pushed his lengthy fingers at a proper pace in and out your pussy. He’s stretching you out, ignoring how your gummy walls tempt him. They keep sucking his fingers in and his cock jumps at the thought of being inside you. Your eyebrows scrunch together while you pull at him.

Megumi moans before leaning in for another kiss. It’s bruising. It almost hurts with the amount of pressure he’s putting on you. The sensation of his tongue rubbing against yours causes you to clamp down on his digits.

“Fuck,” he slips out, trying to work against your tightness. He pulls his fingers away and stands above you. You swallow hard. You forgot how strong and rigid he is compared to you. In height and frame. You look up at him through your wet eyelashes, trying to steady yourself as if it’ll make up for how embarrassed you are from your constant moaning and neediness.

He doesn’t give you the grace of reveling in your newfound confidence. He takes off his clothes, and you remind yourself that you came here. You called him. You’re not completely submissive in this role. And so you opt to undress yourself as well, standing up from the couch once you’re completely bare.

The flame of assurance you had is blown out instantly as his daft fingers clasp around your neck. Your hands immediately jump to his wrist to alleviate his grip, but he doesn’t ease up.

He leans in, pressing a slow and deliberate kiss against your lips. As you open up your lips, he swirled his tongue inside your mouth, possessing your whole body and causing your thighs to press together. A moan leaks out from the little space between your tongues.

“Did you miss me?” he finally speaks to you. You only offer him a dead stare as your mind swims with a possibility of answers. You don’t want to say yes. Not like this. Not while he has you pinned right where he wants you. And so you try to lean in again, only brushing your bottom lip against his before he presses you away by your neck.

“Be honest,” his tone is soft even though his grasp is hard, “tell me the truth.” You can feel your resolve crumbling the longer you stare into his deep blue eyes. Those warm feelings you shamed yourself for came rushing back to the surface. The emotions you’ve struggled with before, the ones you wrestled with late at night - they would burst at the seams the longer you tried to constrict them.

You let it flow out of you.

“I…” Your voice sounded hoarse, completely foreign to your ears, “I missed you…” The words came up lower and lower the further you got in your statement. He relaxed his hold on you, pressing his forehead to yours with his eyes closed.

“I missed you, too,” He admits without any hesitation. It causes your skin to warm up again. A series of kisses were placed gently from your forehead to your lips. The pace felt slower. His pecks soon became deeper, and his hands slid to your breast, gently tugging at each nipple. You reveled in the moment, allowing him to play with your body as he pleased. He switched between kissing your lips and caressing whatever skin he has access to, taking his time. The harsh bites turned to soft nips. The bruising kisses turned into fleeting pecks. It made you feel more inebriated than when you walked in.

He pressed you down into the couch, helping you lay on your back before he slot himself between your thighs. You couldn’t help but look down at his cock. It was gorgeous. You know it sounds ridiculous but from his tip to the heedy veins running down his shaft, you couldn’t get enough.

It brushed gently against your clit, causing you to shudder from the contact. You scooted your hips up, wanting him to catch against your sex again, only for him to raise himself a little. Teasing. You couldn’t allow yourself to openly whine for him. No matter how bad you wanted him inside of you. The little internal battle showed across your features.

“Hey,” the internal debate you held ceased momentarily, “Just concentrate on me, okay?” He presses a kiss against your temple before bracing his forearm beside your head. He uses his other hand to lead his cock against your entrance. Little moans spill from you as you feel his cock tease you. He slips it up and down your slit, pressing in a little each time, but not breaching your entrance.

You wish you could rush him. You wish you could tell him to hurry up. That you need him. Right as the thought crashes into your mind, his tip pops inside your hole. A loud moan pours from both of you. You meet his eyes and he nods. He feels it too. The stretch and pressure immediately bubbling inside of you. He feels how good you feel.

Megumi doesn’t hesitate to pump his full length inside of you, not pausing to bottom out. He missed you for too long. He missed you clutching onto him. He missed you being resistant and almost bratty towards his advances. He missed you playing coy with him. He missed how fucking good sex always feels with you. And he knows you’ll never admit it, but from the drunk look on your face, and the way your legs are tight around his waist, resisting him pulling out, conveys your feelings enough.

“Oh my god,” You whine as he speeds up. You feel like he’s churning your insides. You can hardly concentrate as your cunt teeters between clamping down around him and pulling him deeper inside of you. It feels like a rush of adrenaline and warmth at the sametime. Your body can hardly adapt, tears threatening to spill over your lash line. As if it was possible to save some dignity, you shut your eyes and turn your head to the side. Only, he nips at your neck from the action.

“Stay with me,” He grunts against your skin, causing you to open your eyes. Once you look at him again, you seize up. His gaze is strained but his eyes are so warm. You feel like you're drowning in him. A smile graces his features as he continues to pound into you.

“There’s my sweet girl,” You stomach flips, something builds inside you at the admittance. His pace becomes more brutal, hips slapping against yours, but you’re too concentrated on his gaze to care. The sensation boiling inside you grows, and you can feel your body begin to curl in on itself.

“Megumi-Hnn!” You cry out as your orgasm washes over you. He basks in your juices, groaning as he continues to fuck you through each rolling wave of tremors. You feel as though you can’t catch your breath, pulling in gasp of air as lightning shoots through your body. Lost in the pleasure, you don’t even recognize that he’s been jerking off to the sight of you. Not until his cum paints across your stomach and breast.

While waiting for the feeling in your body to return, he wipes at your skin with his shirt, cleaning you from his mess. You try to find the words to leave but once again he cuts your thought process short.

“Come on, up to my room,” He leaves his hand outstretched to you. You look up at his eyes for a minute. Things seem so easy when it’s little moments like this.

“It’s okay. Just come up… please?”

And you feel yourself reaching for him once again.

#jujutsu kaisen smut #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi #fushiguro megumi smut #megumi smut #jjk smut #megumi fushiguro #jjk fushiguro #megumi x reader #jjk megumi #jujutsu megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jjk x reader #megumi x you #fushiguro #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

[bratfiction]

MY GIRL | FELIX CATTON

(🗒️ ᝰ.ᐟ♥︎) 𝒩𝒪𝒯𝐸𝒮 — this came to me in a vision; brainrot about how felix’s savior complex and daddy kink more or less go hand in hand. and just how much he loves you.

WORD COUNT… 1k WARNINGS… 18+ CONTENT, MDNI. f!reader, mentions of nausea + throw up, crying, pet names, daddy kink.

Ever since you met Felix, he’s wanted to take care of you. 

At first it was insulting. He was born into wealth and class, and you weren’t necessarily dealt that hand despite ending up at the same university. You’re not jaded— you come from two different worlds that don’t mesh. Two different backgrounds and your’s happens to be far more tragic. Poetic even, given how far you’ve come. Naturally you assumed he was only trying to get some good guy points by helping you out. Giving you a peek into what it’s like to be in a social circle filled with young adults that vacation in Portofino and have money wired to them every week. 

It took months of warming up to him. Looking back on it, it seems you went from scowling up at him in the middle of conversations to finding his hand in crowded areas before you could blink, with so many fleeting moments of thinking you may throw up on your maryjanes in between. Because surely Felix Catton couldn’t have swept you off your feet so easily. But he did. Lifted you up and kissed your round cheeks in the process, too. 

“I want to take you away while we’re on break,” he says it like it’s so simple, over lunch in your tiny apartment.

“Take me away?” Even you would admit you’re being a bit daft, but it’s fine. 

“Yeah, like… Italy or Greece, wherever you fancy really.”

Oh. There’s that throw up feeling again, mostly due to how casual he is about it. You couldn’t impose like that. Drinking champagne and eating caviar on your uni boyfriend’s private jet— who do you think you are? Not your father’s daughter, that’s for damn sure. However you’re boarding that same jet a week later. Your heart is pounding, hands clammy as you hand off your luggage. At least Felix seems to be having a good day. He helps himself to the complimentary snacks; you can’t even stomach an apple from the fruit bowl. 

And as if on cue, he senses your now visible uneasiness. It’s only the two of you in the cabin of the jet. Beige walls and deep brown, leather seats… throw pillows to give a homey feel, or to give your shaky hands something to grip onto.

Felix reaches out, and his long fingers find your own in seconds, holding them so gently that you remember why you fell for him all over again— “You alright?” 

No. You nod in the opposite direction, regardless. Now finding it in yourself to fake a smile, snuggle close to him and give a big smooch that quells his worries but makes your own grow. It’s childish, you know that. Just say what’s fucking wrong with you. Say that you don’t feel like you belong in this scenery. Go on. Nothing of the sort falls off of your tongue out of your fear of being the bratty, ungrateful girlfriend. And it’s not until long after you two make it to the villa that you’re finally sniffling and sobbing into Felix's shirt. The thin cotton is see through thanks to your tears and drool. 

“I’m so sorry,” you blubber through swollen lips, “This is s’fucking stupid.” 

You two should be going out right about now, but you can’t find it in you to even put on some lip balm through the tears. Let alone slip on a party dress. Felix only holds you tighter. One of his big hands rubs the middle of your back soothingly while he shushes you— “Oh, sweet girl. Don’t be silly, yeah?”

The sniffle he gets in response is expected. 

“Jus’ wish you told me how you’re feeling sooner, little one.” 

You and him both. 

Felix takes your wet face in his hands, cradling your cheeks with the same amount of love he always does. Nothing has changed. Nothing ever will. Especially when you look up at him with those glossy eyes and thick lashes— how precious. Your smaller hands wrap around his wrists whilst he forces you not to shy away from him. 

“Y’know you’re my girl, right?” He starts, leaning in and whispering to you oh-so softly, “Don’t care ‘bout things like that. Just want your pretty self right next to me.” 

You nod, and this time you mean it. Felix kisses your forehead. Then the tip of your nose. Then your lips. Slow and delicate as if you’ll break if he goes too hard on you. At this point, you think you might too. He pulls away, cracks a smile that makes your heart do a little flip and brushes his thumbs under your eyes, collecting the last of your fat tears. He recognizes that dreamy look on your face. Like you’ve been fully pacified, like you feel as safe as you possibly can be. 

“There’s daddy’s girl.” 

He knows just when to get you. Knows to attack when you’re all dizzy and sensitive from crying. Knows that you can’t resist him slowly but surely laying you down, shushing your little sniffles with kisses. More passionate ones, too. The kind that have you gripping at his shirt.

God, that button down is going through it tonight.

You really are a daddy’s girl, now. You’re being taken on expensive getaways, coddled whenever ‘n wherever you need it and now layed to rest on silky sheets. You’re fully his in every sense, and as much as it scares you, the pride in your chest overflows— “I love you, daddy.” 

Both of you stop breathing for a moment, staring at each other with wide eyes before you’re wrapped up in a sloppy kiss. You whine into his mouth, and Felix decides it’s the perfect time to bunch your sundress up, squeezing your waist while he’s at it. He hovers over you, covering your neck and chest with smooches and brushes of his teeth until he drags his lips over your tummy and reaches the waistband of your panties.

You’re already out of breath. Huffing and puffing while he nips at the little bow on your panties, cocoa irises meeting your gaze to let you know you’re in for it… Not the worst way to spend your first night vacay, you suppose.

#⌨️.kit's writing #🤍.saltburn #didn’t wanna make this too smutty soz #felix catton x reader #felix catton smut

[ceilidho]

Hi crazy Johnny with a single mam anon back because im insane and have brainrot and am seriously contemplating writing it bcus i feel compelled by the power of Christ (Johnny’s cock) to write something pervy and nasty and creepy but ultimately sweet but im also just braindumping and sharing bcus not enough johnny content floating around I fear so have to pull up my bootstraps and do it myself (this is so long ceil im so very sorry)

anyways so I think this is sooo much hotter if Johnny is either on a prolonged medical discharge or he’s been forced into retirement for one reason or another (because then can keep an eye on you lol) he and like this has been touched on before but he’s just got. nothing to fucking do. And holy hell he’s going crazy. He needs something to do. So his silly, terribly adjusted brain latches onto the poor single mam next door who DEFINITELY needs his help.

Im a sucker for forced codependency. You, who thinks you’re doing great on your own, versus ‘can’t handle this all on yer own, eh little lass?’ Johnny MacTavish. He’s SO fucking subtle about it. Commenting on how hard it must be to have to raise a baby all your own, and gods love you just look knackered here let me take the bairn for a bit. He comes round and makes little comments about your house being messy (disorganised, but not messy) and immediately starts ‘sympathising’ because you just mustn’t have time to clean up but it’s important to keep hazards out the way of the baby, here he’ll *help*.

Never questions your ability as a mother, god no, just slyly drops suggestions that you’re not coping as well as you thought. And it fucking NAGS at you. And eventually, you start going to Johnny more and more for help. I honestly think he would cause problems in your flat (fixable ones, like fucking up the electrics or messing around with the pipes but stuff he knows he can fix) so you either have to A. Move in with him temporarily or B. Have to ask him to fix them. Eventually just says that your landlords a cunt for letting you live in a shithole and insists you just move in with him permanently. You do (it’s not really up for debate).

He doesn’t use condoms. I’m sorry he just doesn’t, but he will TELL you that he does- especially the first time you have sex. You’re all worried because ‘oh god Johnny I’m not on birth control I just put it off after I had the baby and we didn’t use a condom-‘ and he’s immediately tucking you into his chest and stroking your hair and shushing you ‘divvint be daft lass, course i wrapped it up, stupid thing just broke. Did ye not realise? Must’ve been heat o’ the moment, don’t worry yer little heed about it alright? Johnny’s here.” and kisses you on your hair and lulls you into sleep. Adamantly denies whispering about how pretty you’re gonna look pregnant as if he’s trying to subliminal you into pregnancy. lol.

Will legally adopt your baby. Like he’ll suggest it, straight up. And you’re probably a bit taken aback because it’s only been six months but he is insistent. This is probably the catalyst for his ‘im the biological dad’ delusions. Once he’s down as the father he’s actually losing his mind a little. Can imagine Simon or Gaz popping round to check up on Johnny on their next leave and suddenly he has a family and they’re actually a little concerned because when Gaz makes a comment about the baby’s being cute Johnny’s like ‘Yeah we did a good job, didn’we lass?” and between the two of them there’s just silence because johnny this is not your baby but they can see that slightly deranged look in his eyes. Defo asks about all the heavy details of your pregnancy and labour and the first few months so he can pretend like he was actually there for it and will talk about it as if he were actually there (extra bonus points if Gaz actually pulls you aside in the kitchen and asks about Johnny’s behaviour and tells you to be careful LMAO).

So yeah anyways.

PLEASE WRITE THIS IM BEGGING YOU!!!!!! im screaming at that last bit i need this so bad please......i don't ask for much but i swear to god please write this for me. this idea was designed in a lab to inflict the maximum amount of psychic damage on me. please write this and i will happily beta/edit it for you if you need any help omg

#john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #soap x you #soap x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2

[distantdarlings]

BY THE FIREPLACE PT.3 // t. nott

RATING: R / 2.3K WORDS

Theo Nott x Fem Reader

+ SUMMARY - *Requested* You and Theo finally realize what exactly went down in the library after a very messy explanation from Mattheo, Enzo, and Pansy. Once the two of you go your separate ways and accept the embarrassment, you both start to let your imaginations wander.

+ WARNINGS - Language, slight sexual material (describing in character's heads)--not super graphic, Fem reader

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Johanna - Suki Waterhouse

---

“What—pray tell—the fuck are you doing in my room?” Theo roared, his back planted firmly against his headboard. You had migrated to standing at the end of the bed, your hands just balancing yourself against the mattress.

“What are you talking about? I fell asleep in the library, I—did you kidnap me?” you shrieked in realization. 

“Are you kidding me? No, I didn’t fucking kidnap you. Are you daft?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowing. You scoff.

“Okay, first of all, you don’t need to be an ass about it,” you scolded, pointing a sharp finger at him, “and second of all, how the hell am I supposed to know if you did or not? I fell asleep in the library and woke up in your bed!”

“Look, I have no idea how—hey, where’s Sleepy?” he interrupted himself. He began gently pushing the covers around. 

“I’m sorry, who?” you ask. He pulled the comforter back and laid across the bed horizontally to glance under the bed.

“Just my cat, she…,”

He paused and leaned back up. The two of you made direct eye contact and stared for what felt like hours. His eyes were slightly squinted as he looked at you, up and down, and you did the same to him. His mouth opened and closed multiple times as if starting to say something but nothing ever came out. Slowly, the two of you came to a very morbid discovery.

“Nott…how long have you had your cat?” you asked, hoping for an answer you knew you weren’t going to get.

“I found her today…,” both of your eyes slid shut, “in the library.”

You groaned and pinched the bridge of your nose between your thumb and forefinger. Merlin help you. Of course, the amazing luck that you were granted did nothing to prevent you from having the worst day of your life. It turns out that having an incredible, life-changing gift wasn’t always a blessing. You opened your eyes.

Theo’s head snapped up suddenly. His furrowed eyebrows had drawn down to match the line of his eyelid. His jaw clenched and unclenched ferociously. The anger radiating off of him was nearly palpable. It shocked you just a bit because you had never seen him as anything but cool and confident.

“Are you okay?” you asked cautiously. He stood from the bed and marched right past you. He made his way over to the dorm entrance, undid the lock, and ripped it open. As if newly appearing, three bodies fell in and clumsily on top of each other. Mattheo Riddle, Pansy Parkinson, and Lorenzo Berkshire stared up at a fuming Theo. His breaths were moving through him like a charging animal.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demands. They all stumble to their feet, struggling over each other. Theo is watching them intently, all but tapping his foot at them.

“Personally, I feel that we hinted at it pretty strongly—” Enzo started.

“Obviously I didn’t fucking get it, why wouldn’t you say something?”

“In our defense, we didn’t think you were going to…you know…take her back to your room,”  Pansy gestured vaguely.

“I thought she was a cat,” he enunciated each word slowly. “She was sweet and laying against me, I brought her in here so I could take a nap.”

“Well, it looks like you got a two-for-one deal!” Mattheo attempted a joke. Theo turned towards him with eyes like swords, begging to slash him into two. The dark boy’s smile dropped and he suddenly became very interested in the material of the drapes around him. You couldn’t stand this.

“Excuse me, I’m right here,” you say. “Would anyone like to tell me what the hell is going on?”

All three of them started to speak, trying to explain what exactly had been going down the last few hours. You could barely understand a single word. You refrained from rolling your eyes. This may be the worst thing that ever happened to you. Your eyes found the floor as the three students continued to try and explain everything over each other. A hand came to your mouth and you began to chew on the shredded skin along the edges of your nails. A bad habit, yes, but calming. 

Your eyes glanced up to look at Theo. His eyes watched the other three intently, trying to decipher them as well. Your eyes trailed down his figure. Mind betraying you, you remembered the way he felt pressed up against your back. His long, lean chest was pressed tightly against your spine and his strong, darkened arms had been wrapped tightly—possessively—around your waist. His forearms had been locked so roughly against your hip bone, you’d had to use both hands to push yourself up. His soft breaths had been cooly painting the skin just below your ear, tickling the small hairs there. A shudder ran down your arms as if he had just done it again.

The three students stopped their chattering and looked at you. You stopped biting at your fingers and stared at them, wide-eyed.

“What?”

“You shuddered,” Pansy stated. Theo’s eyes found yours, his head ever so slightly tilting to one side. Fuck. Your eyes traced the line of his jaw down his throat.

“I…just had a chill,” you brushed the thoughts away. “Okay, thank you all for those wonderful…explanations. I have been mortified by this and will never mentally heal from it. I think I am going to go back to my dorm.”

And with that, you clapped your hands together and turned towards the exit. None of them said anything else to you or made any effort to stop you from going, so you figured you all would just awkwardly pretend it never happened. You figured your books and things were still back in the library so you started heading that way, hoping that nobody had tried to turn anything into the lost and found. How long had you been out?  

“Okay, I don’t think laying with me is ‘mortifying,’” Theo scoffed.

“I think so,” Mattheo said. Theo responded by giving him a swift punch to the shoulder. 

In the back of his mind, Theo heard Pansy make some kind of joke that sent the three of them into a spiral of laughter. But, for whatever reason, his thoughts were traipsing across a vast landscape. His mind's eye was traveling up the expanse of the sheets that were wrapped messily around the two of you. They were tracing the peak of her bare thigh that her tugged skirt had exposed and reminiscing on the way his hands had felt against her soft body. Her hair had just gently tickled the tip of her nose and she had smelled so, so good. Merlin, it had been so long since—

“Theo!” He jumped out of his own thoughts. His eyes found his very concerned friend group as they appeared to be waiting for an answer from him.

“Mate, I said your name, like, eight times,” Mattheo said. Theo shrugged.

“Sorry, I was distracted…” Theo thought he heard the other boy mumble a smart–ass comment but he just ignored him. His damned brain kept flying back to that girl. He didn’t know what it was but something about her waking up next to him like that had him seeing her in a whole new light. She wasn’t unattractive—she was anything but—but she really seemed to hate him. She was always rolling her eyes or scoffing anytime he announced a wrong answer in class. And she never called him by his first name, only his last. He can’t say he knew that much about girls but those particular attributes did not seem like they belonged to one that liked him. 

He shrugged those thoughts off the best he could and followed his group of friends out of the dorm and into the common room where more of their acquaintances had begun to gather.

xxx

It had been hours. Hours and you were still thinking about Theo Nott. This was ridiculous. You needed to move on, needed to get to the homework you had been trying to get done this whole evening, but you just couldn’t. Every thought kept realigning itself to the way it felt when he had been holding you. It sent chills down your spine every time you thought about it. You had never been held like that.

Your roommates were all out late, trying to have a good time down at the Three Broomsticks. They had begged you to come but, due to a particularly interesting afternoon, you had incidentally become very behind on your homework. So you declined and promised you would next time. 

Yet, you still weren’t done with this stupid assignment and probably could have gone with them anyway. You groaned in frustration and dropped your head against the desk, feeling the cool wood beneath it. 

This morning, if you could have guessed what you’d be doing, mulling over the way Theo’s arms looked, would not have even been in the top one million guesses. But here you were, practically drooling over the way his veins wrapped around his muscular arms. 

You remembered the way his large hands had been so gently placed over your stomach, the tips of his fingers gently gripping your flesh while he slept. The way his hips were pressed firmly against your ass—

“Aah!” you squealed in utter shame, shaking the thoughts away from your head. What the fuck, what the fuck. You might die. The fact that you couldn’t get him off your mind despite how much you couldn’t stand him was disconcerting. You’d always thought he was extremely handsome, as did practically everyone else, but you never thought you’d even imagine in that…way. Damn it.

Theo rolled over, tugging the comforter back over his shoulders. He shut his eyes once more, trying painfully hard to will himself to sleep. He had Quidditch practice in the morning, he needed to get some rest. He needed to. But he couldn’t. That stupid—you were running through his mind like a record stuck on rotate. It kept going and going, scratching against him. He’d never, ever thought about you in any way other than annoyance. But he couldn’t get you off his mind. 

All he could think about was the way you were arched gracefully against his hips when you were laid out together. The way your skirt was pulled over your hips and he could almost see the line of your underwear beneath the sheets. He wondered what color they were, what they looked like. He kept his eyes closed, clenching them harder. Go to sleep. 

Your body was pressed against his just like before. The light outside made your hair and shoulders glow, spotlighting every rise and fall your breathing pushed through you. Your hair was pulled over your shoulder and splayed gracefully over the pillow. He wanted to touch it but he kept his hands firmly where they were.

Suddenly you grunted gently and rolled over, coming face to face with him. This time you didn’t jump back and scream and accuse him of kidnapping you. This time, your eyes were opened and simply watching him. Your gaze was lidded and sultry, your lashes creating a sinister shadow along your cheeks. A small smirk spread over your lips as he watched you. Still, he did not move.

Your hands slowly rose between the two of you. Your soft, nimble fingers found the buttons of your uniform shirt and began working them down. Theo’s breath halted in his chest as more and more of you were revealed. Your hands granted him passage to your chest. You wore a laced black bra that was cinched tightly between your breasts. His eyes flickered down once, twice. He swallowed thickly. 

Your hands pulled away from your shirt once the last button was undone and pushed him back so he rested comfortably against the headboard. You pushed a leg across his lap and settled neatly in the empty space. Like a reflex, his hands came to rest against your skirted hips. His fingertips brushed the felted material as you stared down, challenging him. 

You split the two sides of your shirt and slid it over and off your smooth shoulders. Without so much as a breath, Theo leaned forward and pressed his lips to the skin there. You gave a light gasp at his action. Your rapid heartbeat danced against his tongue as he ran it along the expanse of your neck.

You pushed him back against the headboard. You pulled your hands up to the clip pressed tightly against your chest. Your fingers curled around it and—

Theo’s eyes opened. The sun was up and Mattheo was squatted beside his bed, watching him with an obnoxious smirk printed on his face. Theo jumped back at the sudden face in front of him. He leaned up and glanced around wildly, trying to gather his bearings, ignoring Mattheo’s annoying cackling beside him.

“Dude, what the hell?” Mattheo laughed.

“What? Shut the fuck up,” he grumbled, pushing him back away from the bed.

“Oh, baby,” Mattheo moaned in a high-pitched voice. “Come here, darling. Let me—”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Theo asked.

“You must have been having one hell of a dream, man,” he laughed, “when I got in here, you were saying all kinds of stuff.”

Theo blushed deeply, his nose and ears burning, as he remembered the subject of his dream. Flashes of your thick hips and chest pressed against him and his hands and lips on you and…fuck.

“Shit, man, who were you dreaming about? You’re as red as an apple,” Mattheo asked, an eyebrow arching. Theo didn’t reply. Mattheo’s eyes widened. 

“Oh my god, you weren’t dreaming about—?”

“How about some breakfast?” Theo interrupted, abruptly pulling the covers back and slipping a tee shirt over his head.

Part 4!

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