#(also got light fingers tie ins it was great)

[thedeafprophet]

remembering the queen of elephants ES and how u could get practically two different stories based on ur choices... we need that kind of choice back tbqh

#prophet's fl nonsense #(also thats a very fun es btw) #(also got light fingers tie ins it was great) #(i mean it was written by the guy who wrote light figners so ajdjffkggkkgkh)

[dirtyhelen]

i’ve got the girl on my mind (all the time)

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Featuring: Smut; Humour; Light D/S; Vaginal Fingering; Oral Sex

Words: 4299

Summary: Carol’s wearing a suit. Black, tailored to perfection, but not feminine. The top two buttons of her stark white shirt are undone and her tie is loose around her neck. Her eyes scan the room absently until her gaze lands on you and she’s smiling even wider, lifting her glass and giving you a wink. 

“Oh my God, Bucky, she’s coming over here. Go away.” 

“What—why?” 

“Because I’m either about to embarrass myself or get seduced and I don’t want you here for either.” 

(Spoiler alert: it’s the second one.)

A/N: Woman Cozily Cupping Mug Secretly Thinking About Getting Absolutely Railed by Carol Danvers. This is just a silly little smutfic that I had way too much fun writing. Hope you enjoy! Title from Girls by Beatrice Eli.

“Hey.”

You look up from your computer screen to find Carol Danvers standing in your office doorway, still in her suit from the mission you’re currently writing your report on. She’s looking at you with the confident little half-smile you’ve become very familiar with over the past few weeks. It’s a look that never fails to bring a heat to your cheeks. And other places.

“Uh, hi,” you manage. You can see Bucky smirking at you from his spot lounging on your office sofa, his broken arm resting in a sling against his chest.

“Thanks for your help back there,” Carol says. “You too, Barnes,” she adds, with a nod in his direction. Bucky’s “help” in this case was mostly leaning over your shoulder offering unsolicited opinions on your work and avoiding the many elbow jabs you attempted to land to his ribcage.

It’s not easy being the Avengers’ favourite analyst.

“No problem. Anytime,” you reply.

Carol nods, says a quick, “See ya,” and then she’s gone, striding off down the corridor.

“Bye,” you sigh wistfully.

Bucky chuckles and your eyes snap to him. “You alright there, doll?” he asks, amusement clear in his voice. You glare at him and he only grins wider. “You just seem a little flustered is all. Heart’s beating a little fast.”

“Oh, fuck off, Bucky—you blush like a schoolgirl every time Thor looks at you.”

He squawks but can’t deny it. “Whatever,” he mutters, standing up and heading for the door. “Enjoy filling out your mission report and pining. I’ve got my own cocky blond captain to welcome home.” He winks, graciously letting the pen you throw hit him in the chest before he leaves.

You turn back to your computer and try to focus on your work, but your thoughts keep straying to Carol.

Bucky’s wrong; you do not pine. You only think about her when she’s around. And even then, only once or twice a day. Just casually wondering what she’s doing and if she might stop by your office.

Four or five times, max. Thinking about what she’s wearing, or if she’s done something different with her hair.

Okay, ten times total, on a bad day. Imagining how that easy confidence might translate to the bedroom. If her powers mean her fingers never cramp up, or if her jaw never gets sore.

Bucky’s right; you do pine.

You can’t help it! There’s just something about Carol that has you reverting to the heady infatuations of your teen years every time she’s around. She’s just so fucking cool. To the nerdy teenager you once were, she’s the coolest girl in school whose attention and approval you’re desperate for. To the nerdy adult you currently are, she’s the coolest girl in the universe whose attention and approval you’re desperate for and whose pussy you’d absolutely kill to eat like a five-course meal.

Luckily for your sanity (and your dominant hand), Carol’s not actually around that often. You only met her after the Snap was reversed, having been one of the Capital-D-Dusted, but she seems to spend most of her time checking in on the gazillion other planets in the universe.

At least, she used to. Apparently in the last few months she’s decided to reconnect with her birthplace, because suddenly she’s spending more time on-planet than off. This means the chances of her stopping by your office or running into you on the new-new compound have gone way up. Once every few months has become once a week or more.

Today’s little exchange is the second time she’s found you this week. She stops by, stands in your doorway in ripped jeans or a leather jacket, smirking like a fucking female James Dean, while she casually compliments your outfit or your work or the music playing from your computer. Which would be great—if you had any idea what it means.

You know what you want it to mean, but you and Carol have been doing this little dance for weeks now and she hasn’t so much as asked you if you like coffee, let alone invited you to drink some with her sometime.

Sure, you could ask her out, but you’re not about to risk getting rejected by Captain fucking Marvel and then having to guide her through some villain’s lair over comms the next day.

Shaking your head to try and physically dislodge all thoughts of Carol from your brain, you settle back into your mission report, determined to prove Bucky wrong for at least another hour or two so you can finish up and get home to your empty, lonely apartment.

+++

A couple of weeks and a handful of run-ins with Carol later, you’re standing in a ballroom on the compound in your nicest dress, taking a night off from thinking about Carol. Or trying to, anyway.

The Stark Foundation is hosting a charity gala, raising money for relief efforts for those impacted by the reversal of the Snap. It’s not really your thing, but the Avengers are required to attend and you never pass up an opportunity to watch Steve try to withhold his deep annoyance at having to interact with the richest members of American society.

“Look at his hand, Buck,” you point out. “We’ve reached the clenched fists portion of the evening.”

Bucky nods, taking a sip of his champagne. “Next up—the jaw muscle.”

“Poor guy,” you sigh. “He looks great, though.”

“That he does,” Bucky agrees, eyes scanning the room. “Speaking of looking great—” He lets out a low whistle, nodding his head toward the bar. You follow his gaze and your jaw drops.

“Oh my God.”

“Yep.”

“Look at her.”

It’s Carol, because of course it’s Carol. You weren’t expecting her to be here tonight—she’s not an Avenger in any official capacity and she doesn’t seem the type to enjoy a fancy party—but there she is, standing at the bar talking to Nat and surrounded by a handful of the One Percent.

And she’s wearing a suit. Black, tailored to perfection, but not feminine. The top two buttons of her stark white shirt are undone and her tie hangs loose around her neck.

You watch her laugh at something Natasha says, as she surveys the room absently, completely ignoring all the people clamouring for her attention. Then her gaze lands on you and she’s smiling even wider, lifting her glass and winking at you from the bar.

You manage a little wave back to her as your heart races and Bucky starts to laugh next to you. Carol leans down to say something in Nat’s ear that has her smirking and then she’s walking toward you and your heart stops entirely.

“Oh my God, Bucky, she’s coming over here. Go away,” you hiss.

“What—why?”

“Because I’m either about to embarrass myself or get seduced and I don’t want you to here for either. Go rescue your boyfriend.”

Bucky scoffs but does as you ask, snatching another glass of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray and heading toward Steve.

You have just enough time to swig back the last of your own glass and set it on a table before Carol’s standing in front of you, looking even better up close.

“Hey.” She greets you with a smile.

“Hi.”

“Love the dress,” she says, eyes sweeping down your body. She pinches a fold of your skirt between her finger and thumb, tugs at it lightly. “This colour looks great on you.”

“Oh, um, thank you. You look great too. Very James Bond,” you note and Carol grins. “How are you enjoying your first Avengers party?”

She rolls her eyes. “If one more man tries to tell me about his very cool job managing hedge funds I’m gonna blow a hole in the ceiling and fly out of here.”

“That is, unfortunately, one of the hallmarks of these things. The finance guys, not the ceiling holes,” you clarify. “Though actually, that’s not unheard of either.”

She laughs, about to say something else when her eyes drift over your shoulder. “The vultures are circling again,” she whispers. You turn your head to see a handful of men in expensive suits lingering a few feet away, obviously waiting for an opportunity to introduce themselves to Carol. “You wanna get out of here?” she asks. “Maybe go somewhere a little quieter?”

For a second your brain is frozen solid. You’ve never actually heard that phrase outside of movies and TV, and in movies and TV it usually only means one thing. But this is Carol Danvers and real life and you have no idea if she wants to fuck you or if she really does want to continue your conversation somewhere she’s not at risk of being interrupted by Elon Musk or a random politician.

“My office is just upstairs?” you offer once your brain thaws. There’s a part of you that wants to say, “Or how about we go to your room?” But that’s about ten times more suggestive than you’re comfortable being. Plus, the residences are on the other side of the compound so it’s also not that practical.

“Sounds great,” Carol says with a grin, and then she’s leading you out of the ballroom, a strong hand pressed to the small of your back.

+++

Carol leans against the wall while you fumble with your key card, hands in her pockets and looking so fucking good you want to fall to your knees and beg her to fuck your face right there in the hallway.

Neither of you said much during the short walk to your office but there was an almost palpable tension that has you keyed up and leaking into your panties even though Carol hasn’t so much as touched you beyond a guiding hand on your back.

In the next sixty seconds, as your pass your key card over the pad on the wall and reach down to open the door, it becomes very clear Carol meant “somewhere quieter” exactly the way they do in the movies.

As soon as the door is open she’s pushing you through, kicking it shut with her heel as she pushes you against the wall, hands pressing firm on your shoulders. You gasp when your back hits the wall.

She leans in and your eyes slip shut, waiting for her lips on yours, desperate to finally know how she tastes. But the kiss doesn’t come. She stops with her lips just inches from yours—you can feel the warmth of her breath against your face—and waits. You open your eyes and find her smirking, watching you burn for her and you nearly whimper, another rush of wetness flooding your underwear.

“Please,” you breathe, unable to stop yourself. You’ve wanted this for so long you think you might cry if she doesn’t at least kiss you.

“Please what?” she asks, voice calm and low like she isn’t standing between your spread legs. Like she isn’t affected at all.

“Kiss me. Please.” You can’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed by how easy you are for her.

“Good girl,” she says softly and finally closes the distance between you. Her first kiss is sweet—a gentle press of lips, a soft hello—but it quickly turns deep and devouring. She licks along the seam of your mouth then sweeps her tongue inside until you’re gasping for air.

Jesus, it’s even better than you could have ever imagined. You don’t think you’ve ever been kissed like this, so thorough and greedy. Carol tastes like chapstick and rum and you’re drunk on her in moments.

One of her hands rests on your waist, while the other grips the back of your neck, holding you in place for her. She sets the pace, giving you time to breathe with teasing kisses along your jaw and neck before pressing her lips to yours, again and again.

She nudges her thigh between yours, pushing up against your cunt through layers of fabric and you grind down against her, moaning into her mouth at the pressure on your throbbing clit. Carol’s hands start to work at the hem of your dress, rucking it up your legs in fistfuls until she’s stopped by the barrier of her own body. She shifts her leg back, chuckling as you whine at the loss, and tugs your dress up so you’re exposed from the waist down.

She takes a moment to look at you, trailing her eyes from ankle to bellybutton and back, stopping at the space between your legs.

“Hold this,” she says, passing you a handful of your dress, and freeing up her own hand. She taps two fingers on your panties, just over your clit, and even that is enough to have you gasping. “Cute,” she comments, and then she’s sliding under the waistband and her fingers are on your bare skin.

She wastes no time, pressing her fingers between your folds. She quirks an eyebrow at the sopping mess of you, almost shamefully wet for so little contact. “I told you,” you stutter through shallow breaths, “you look good in a suit.”

Carol grins, dipping two fingers into your pussy. You roll your hips to try and coax them inside you. “I must look really good if you’re this easy already,” she teases.

She drags slick up to your clit, circling it as she kisses your neck, sucking occasionally then dragging her teeth over the tender flesh. It doesn’t take long before you’re coming, cunt pulsing as you moan her name. Before you can catch your breath she’s pulling you away from the wall, gripping you by the shoulders and turning you around. She marches you the handful of steps to your desk, leaning in until her lips are next to your ear. “Hands on the desk,” she orders.

You eagerly comply, resting the heels of your palms on the sharp edge of your desk. Carol unzips your dress, then pushes the straps off your shoulders and down your arms, pulling them over your hands one at time. The dress falls to your feet, followed by your panties, and suddenly you’re completely naked even as Carol stands fully clothed behind you.

She takes your hands in hers, gripping your wrists, and moves them to the other side of the desk, before pressing a palm to the small of your back with just the slightest hint of her power. She bends you over until your breasts press against the cool surface and your back is forced to arch, ass tilted on display for her.

Her hands stroke down the skin of your back and you shiver.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll warm you up,” she says, even though your trembling has nothing to do with the temperature of the room and you think she knows that.

She nudges her foot against one of yours and you widen your stance, spreading your legs wide. Her hand follows the curve of your ass to where you’re still wet and dripping for her, fingertips teasing at your opening.

It hits you suddenly that anyone could walk by and catch you in here. They’d take one look through the glass walls of your office and know. You didn’t even think to flip the switch to opaque the walls and now it’s too late; the panel is next to the door and you wouldn’t move now if flames were licking at your heels. Anyone passing by would see your dress on the floor, see your legs stretched wide around Carol’s figure and they’d know.

To your surprise, the idea of getting caught only adds to your excitement. You don’t have time to ponder your newly discovered kink because two of Carol’s fingers press into your pussy and immediately start thrusting fast and hard, working you back up so quickly your head spins.

The room is soon filled with the sound of her fingers moving inside you and the wet slap of her palm hitting your ass as she fucks you. Your whimpers and moans rise to join the chorus.

Carol presses close to your body, her front against your back, and the coarse fabric of her suit on your overheated skin adds to the fire building inside you. The vulnerability of being completely bare while she’s fully clothed and holding all the power has you melting against the desk, boneless and soft, there to take whatever she gives you.

Her lips press against your cheek in chaste kisses and she licks into your open mouth but you can’t keep up, so overwhelmed with the pleasure of her fingers inside you. She’s up to three now, filling and stretching you, fucking you faster than any normal human could.

She stands up straight again and brings her other hand around your hip to stroke at your clit, matching the speed of her thrusting fingers. You’re coming in seconds, even harder than before, clamping down on her fingers in vice-grip pulses as your hips stutter and jerk.

Carol brings you down gently this time, letting you hold her fingers inside as her other hand circles your clit slowly, giving you every aftershock of pleasure she can. She bends over you again, pressing gentle kisses to the sweat-slick skin of your neck and shoulders as you come down, only sliding her fingers from you when the last pulses are gone.

You manage to turn over, leaning back against the desk on boneless legs, just in time to see Carol licking at her fingers with a pleased-sounding hum. She winks at the hitch in your breath. “That was amazing, baby. Thank you,” she says.

You gape at her. “Thank me? Thank you. I’ll never be able to work here again,” you muse, breathless and hazy. “I’m only going to be thinking about that.”

She laughs and leans in for a kiss, trading the hint of your taste on her tongue.

“Can I go down on you? Please,” you blurt when she pulls away.

Her eyes widen slightly, like maybe she wasn’t expecting you to return the favour, but her lips curl in a teasing smile. “Well, since you asked so nicely.” She trades places with you so you’re standing in front of her as she leans against the desk. “On your knees,” she commands, and you follow, sinking to the floor on top of your discarded dress.

She undresses, but only as much as she has to, slouching off her jacket and leaving her shirt and tie. She undoes her belt buckle with deliberate slowness, then the button and fly of her pants. Finally, she toes off her shoes and removes her pants with surprising grace, and of course, she isn’t wearing underwear so you’re inches away from dark blond curls and pink folds. Your mouth waters with anticipation. You glance up for permission and Carol nods, spreading her legs. “Go ahead.”

God, you want this to be good for her. You settle in, resting your hands on the hard muscle of her thighs, feeling the soft hairs there against your palms. You spread her open with your tongue and take a few exploratory licks, getting her taste in your mouth, earthy and sharp, before you focus on her clit.

As expected, Carol takes charge of this too. She grinds against your lips, fists her hands in your hair to guide you, and keeps up a steady stream of praise. All, good girl; right there; doing so well for me, baby.

Other than the words spilling from her lips she’s quiet mostly, heavy breathing and the occasional gasp, but you know you must be doing something right because there’s no shortage of slick wetness seeping from her cunt to coat your tongue. You feel a distinct rush of pride whenever you manage to make her moan.

You pull out every trick you’ve got as you work, needing to make this good; you can’t bear the thought that this might be the only time you get to do this.

You lap at her clit in long, firm strokes, not sure how she feels about penetration and unwilling to take your lips away from her clit to ask. You keep your focus there, encouraged by the way her hips buck and her breaths get shorter and sharper like they’re being forced from her lungs in time with your tongue.

“Right there,” Carol gasps. “Don’t stop—fuck.” Your jaw aches but you hold steady, flicking over her clit as quickly as your tongue allows as her thighs tense and her breathing stops entirely. Then, with a long, low moan, all the tension leaves her at once as she comes, hips stuttering against your face. You slow down but keep up the motion until she twitches away.

Licking your lips, you sit back on your heels, face turned up to look at her. Her hair is messy, her cheeks and lips flushed deep pink, and her brown eyes seem even darker. She’s undone even more buttons on her shirt at some point and it gapes open, revealing a plain white bralette and an appealing strip of pale skin.

She smiles warmly down at you. “You look good on your knees,” she says, and your face burns as she studies you. Her eyes flit from your face, where you feel your mouth and chin still soaked with her slick, down your naked body, to your hands clasped in your lap. She reaches down, swipes a thumb across the mess on your face and presses it between your lips. Automatically you suck, pulling the taste of her into your mouth again until she takes her hand back.

There’s a moment or two of silence, and as you become aware of the soreness in your jaw and knees, and the fact that you’re kneeling naked on your office floor, you can’t help but start laughing, giggling uncontrollably as you flop down to sit on the floor completely. Carol laughs too, though less hysterically and seemingly in reaction to you more than any humour she finds in the situation.

“Oh my God,” you gasp through peals of laughter. “We just had sex. In my office. Where I work. This is not at all how I imagined this would go.”

Carol’s eyebrows raise at your accidental admission. “How exactly did you imagine it?” she asks. “And how often?” she adds, quirking her brows playfully.

You cover your face with your hands and groan as heat rushes to your cheeks yet again. Luckily, Carol rescues you from your embarrassment, effortlessly pulling you up from the floor for a kiss before pulling back to look you in the eyes. “Wanna get a pizza or something? I’m starving.”

+++

Thirty minutes later you’re sitting in a booth at the only pizza place in town, the two of you the only diners in the restaurant. Carol’s telling you a story about a brawl she got into at a bar on some planet called Argor while you both devour greasy slices of cheap pizza. Her feet nudge against yours occasionally under the table and she touches you casually as she talks.

You’re surprised at how comfortable it is between you. Even as you got dressed, handing each other articles of clothing you picked up off the floor and walking to the garage for your car. Carol’s easy charm and confidence keep the conversation running smoothly, and something about her demeanour must rub off on you because you don’t feel awkward at all.

You revel in the way she can be so dominant and poised but such a snarky dork at the same time, and you find her wide, genuine smiles just as charming as those cheeky little smirks.

As you’re nearing the end of your meal, with no mention of going out or even hooking up again, you decide you have to ask. You’re stupid enough (and infatuated enough) to agree to whatever arrangement Carol is looking for here, even though you know casual sex will only end in heartbreak for you, but you have to at least know, at the risk of spoiling the entire evening.

“So,” you start, gathering your courage. “Was this just—I mean, are you only looking for something casual right now, or?” you trail off.

Carol blinks at you over her coke. “Are you asking if I’m only interested in sex?”

You nod.

“Um, no,” she admits, shrugging. “The plan was actually to ask you out tonight. I was gonna show up, flirt with you a little—did you know you’re very cute when you’re flustered?” she teases, tapping your shin with her foot before continuing. “Then I was going to ask you out. But then you were wearing that dress and I got kinda carried away, I guess.”

“Oh. Wow.” Somehow, even after having her interest in you very must confirmed (at least physically) you still weren’t expecting that.

She nods. “Yep. I mean, I’ll be honest, I definitely would have tried to fuck you on the first date” she says, grinning at you over her drink, “but I did plan on there being a first date. Not that I have much experience with those on Earth, in this century.” She pauses, considering. “Is karaoke still cool?”

“Was karaoke ever cool?”

Carol’s lips twitch but she holds back her smile, quirking an eyebrow at you. “You should watch that attitude, baby, or I might have to punish you,” she says, pitching her voice low and smirking when your breath catches.

If you thought having a conclusive answer to the question, “Is Carol Danvers into me?” would keep her from dominating your thoughts, you were dead wrong. You’re pretty sure you’re going to be thinking about her even more now.

Bucky is going to be unbearably smug about it.

+++

A/N: Do I have a whole backstory of how Reader and Bucky became friends even though it has no relevance to this fic? Yes, yes I do.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed 😊 (Also, if you notice any typos or grammar mistakes, feel free to let me know!) Text divider courtesy of writeyourmindaway!

#carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x you #reader insert #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu #marvel #carol danvers #femslash february

[xoluvx]

the last great american dynasty; peter parker

» pairing: peter parker x stark!reader » song: the last great american dynasty » word count: 2.7K

“Look who’s here,” Cap muttered looking down from the large glass windows in the compound. For a place that was suppose to be top secret, it was pretty damn open and obvious. He sipped from his coffee mug watching the woman slide out of the shiny black car. Even from far away, he could see the mischievous smirk on her face that spoke louder than the white feminine suit clinging to her body.

Peter approached Steve from the side, curious as to who he was referring to. It was certainly you. Suddenly he’d forgotten how to breath and his brain had completely given up on him as his mind went foggy and his limbs limp.

“She’s here,” Tony rushed down the hallway and into the common room where both Steve and Peter were standing. They snapped their heads towards him, an ecstatic Tony was rubbing his hands together as he heard the elevator ding.

“Daddy!” you exclaimed pushing your big sunglasses towards the top of your head, your arms outstretching towards Tony who sprinted to you. His arms engulfing you in a big bear hug, just like he’d do when you were younger.

“How was the flight?” he asked releasing you watching you stand there not a hair out of place, you were always so composed. There was no way you had just been on an almost day long flight.

“First class, can’t complain.” You smiled playfully, but others could have said it was more snobbish. By others, I mean Cap who was now approaching you with his coffee mug. His lips pursed slightly until you saw him.

“Uncle Steve,” you smiled stretching your arms again. He chuckled slightly. He may not have been a fan of your lush life and your extravagant arrivals, but there was always a glint in your eyes that reminded him of when you were younger and he relished in those moments.

“How’s the fiance?” he asked pulling away. Totally oblivious to why you were visiting. Why you’d practically lugged your entire life back to America.

“Oh, you didn’t tell him?” you chuckled awkwardly turning to your dad. You wished you could push down your sunglasses and simply vanish.

“I didn’t think it was my place, sweetie.” You dad gave you a slight shrug in the douche-baggy way people were used to seeing from him. Clearing your throat, turning towards Steve again you gave him a tight line smile.

“It didn’t work out.” You weren’t heartbroken. You’d broken it off. He wasn’t who you thought he was and he definitely wasn’t who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. He just wasn’t on your level.

“I’ve gotta head out, Mr. Stark.” A distinct boyish voice, which you’d recognize anywhere, approached the three of you. Diverting your attention from Cap, you looked at Peter. He hadn’t changed one bit. If anything he’d only grown more handsome, his jaw was more defined and his hair. Had he gotten a haircut maybe? It suited him.

“Pete,” you muttered his nickname. You suddenly felt small. Everything you owned and everything you’d projected was just so insignificant in the presence of Peter.

“Hey,” he chuckled slightly as if he hadn’t recognized you. As if you were a stranger walking down the street and he just happened to bump into you and was being courteous because he had manners.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, first thing in the morning.” Tony placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder talking to him directly. Waving his finger at him. Peter nodded as Tony and Steve disappeared leaving him alone with you. Still standing by the elevator.

“You look great,” Peter complimented awkwardly looking at your crisp outfit and your perfectly flawless face. Your lips curled into a smile and you felt yourself growing warmer. He always knew how to make you feel flushed.

“You’re not looking so bad yourself,” you retaliated watching him stand there in jeans and a plain faded grey t-shirt. His hair was somewhat shorter at the sides, but his curls were still there, slightly framing his face in a sideways sweep. He’d matured. But he was still Peter. 

“I really gotta go, I’ll see you around.” With that he quickly sprinted towards the stairs. His light footsteps haunting you as he walked out.

•

“Morning, Peter.” Tony’s voice echoed through the compound’s kitchen as Peter entered. He was wearing a baggy hoodie and jeans. It was like his uniform. Comfort over anything.

You were up bright and early. You were also wearing jeans, but they were form fitting and dressed up. The blouse you were wearing elevated the look. The loose chiffon hung on your body, but the built in straps at the neck were done in a neat bow around your neck.

“I’ll be down in the lab in a bit. You want breakfast?” Tony asked lifting up the pan with eggs. He was hovering over the kitchen island serving himself. In your hands, there was a coffee mug and next to it a small bowl of fruit.

“Sure,” Peter said clearing his throat. He was usually a lot more laid back with Tony. His level of respect was still there for the man, but their relationship had relaxed over the years. He wasn’t sure why he was feeling so tense now. Maybe it was the fact that you were staring at him.

Or the fact that he hadn’t seen you in years and you were just sitting there now. Pretending like you’d never been gone.

Clearing his throat, Peter muttered a ‘thanks’ as Tony placed a plate of food in front of him. Your eyes never leaving him.

•

“Is it weird seeing her?” Ned asked, his face registering more excitement that concern for his best friend. Ned had stopped by the compound, something he’d do regularly as he’d been able to land a job with the Avengers. You know, guy in the chair and all.

Peter cleared his throat trying to avoid the topic. Ned had seen you, the two of you had a quick conversation before Peter was able to drag Ned away. And now here was a curious Ned.

“It’s a little weird, but-” Peter shrugged not being able to finish his sentence. Simply because he didn’t know what to feel. He felt so much, yet he couldn’t decipher exactly what that was. So he was ignoring those feelings. Pushing them aside, but now Ned was prying. He knew he couldn’t lie to him.

“Okay, but you have to admit...she looks incredible and the way she was looking at you, man.” Ned shook his head chuckling slightly ignoring the fact that he currently had a million things to do.

Peter froze. So he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.

•

It’d been weeks of scrutinizing encounters. Awkward bump-ins on the elevator or halls. Did Peter live here? You started to wonder. It was the only logical explanation for why he was constantly roaming the compound.

Neither of you ever held a conversation, except if Ned was involved. Other than that, all interactions were composed of stolen glances and sly unintentional brushes of hands or shoulders.

“Black tie event,” Tony warned pointing at Peter who was nodding his head walking backwards towards the stairs. You glanced at him quickly clutching the fork in your hand. Inside of you, a weird bubbling feeling was brewing. The prospect of seeing Peter in a suit and tie, unlike his multitude of t-shirts and jeans, which you totally didn’t mind, was enticing.

“Black tie, got it!” Peter exclaimed rushing down the stairs. 

“Are you excited?” Tony asked looking at you snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah, what could go wrong with hundreds of people, who I haven’t seen in a long time, coming to celebrate my arrival to the states? After I’ve called off my engagement?” You added that last part just for kicks. A smug look on your face as you finished eating your pasta.

•

The sea of bodies consumed the room as you looked for a drink. Everyone was chatting away and it seemed almost everyone had forgotten about you. Good, you didn’t have time to entertain anyone’s crazy theories about why you’d left and why you were now back.

“Thank you,” you hummed taking the glass of wine from the bar. The bittersweet taste coated your taste buds and a sigh of satisfaction exhaled from your body. But your peace was quickly interrupted when two men approached you as you walked away from the bar. He whispered something in your ear that made your body recoil, and you stared at him with a blank face. A subtle shake of your head was indication that you didn’t want anything to do with him, but his friend was instant.

“I’m not going to dance with you,” you exclaimed shaking your head again as you clutched your wine glass tighter.

“No wonder your husband left you,” he spit the words with a vile laugh. The comment didn’t phase you, but the fact that this dimwit thought he could insult you was amusing. “Probably only wanted you for daddy’s money,” he added as his friend laughed quietly next to him.

“It’s funny that you assume everything I have is because my dad is Tony Stark,” you said not raising your voice. Your face expressionless as you took a sip of your wine. People were starting to gather around you. The men drawing attention as they continued to laugh and make childlish remarks.

“I’ll have you know I not only own half of Stark Industries, but I’m heavily involved in everything that happens around here. It’s a shame women can’t have fun and do business at the same time without pathetic men like you and you-” you pointed at his friend while sighing, “-shaming them.”

It seemed like everyone had silenced as you finished your speech, chugging your wine. You handed the man your wine glass before ushering everyone to scram. There was nothing to see here. 

•

“He had that coming,” Peter’s voice approached you at the bar. He leaned against the counter slightly watching you take your eyes off your glass, which he was sure was now filled with something a lot stronger. Startled you jumped slightly, now watching him with a playful smile on your face. The playful banter felt familiar. Felt like the old Peter.

“Men,” you scoffed shaking your head with disgust.

“You got that right,” he chuckled nodding in agreeance motioning towards the bartender. 

“How’s MJ?” you asked diverting the conversation from you. His eyes bulged slightly as he brought the beer to his lips. His brows quickly furrowing as he grunted, the cold beer settling down his throat. You’d noticed he hadn’t brought a date. Lies. It wasn’t just noticing, you were practically watching his every move. Just like he had with you.

“MJ?” He asked clearing his throat.

“Last I heard you two were getting pretty serious, right?” you said trying not too sound too desperate, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly. You stirred your drink moving the glass with your fingers awaiting his answer.

“Uh...no.” He said a bit stunned. “We agreed we were better off as friends. She’s abroad, actually. Has a huge galley.” He chuckled.

Suddenly you get a weight pushing on your chest. It seemed like MJ had rejected him too. Had he lost total hope chasing after women? You couldn’t help, but wonder as you sipped on your drink watching his jaw clench.

“What happened with the fiance?” He teased. That’s what everyone called him. ‘The Fiance’. Like he was so mysterious, almost mythical. Peter had started to doubt if he had been real.

“Men,” you scoffed. “Remember?” you joked letting out a soft laugh chugging your drink.

Peter chuckled nodding his head, not wanting to pry. His beer was growing warm in his hands.

Placing your glass down with a clank on the counter, you grabbed Peter’s free hand leading him out of the room. “Come!” you demanded leading him towards the lab. You felt like a couple of kids sneaking out of a grown-up party. Even though you were the grown-ups.

Peter marveled at the suit in front of him.

“I didn’t want to show dad until it was presentable. What do you think?” you asked looking at the shiny suit. A multitude of laser beams sprouted at the sides with specific information about each feature and setting. Peter’s eyes scanned over the details. A look of approval registering on his face.

He turned to look at you. He was fascinated by the juxtaposition of your soft silky dress and the rough metal suit. The two sides of you. Both of which he’d known so well.

“Have you tried it out?” he asked trying to distract himself from how more attractive you’d grown. He didn’t know you were still in the labs being hands on, but somehow it elevated you further on the podium he’d slowly built for you over the years.

"Not yet. Wanted to get a second opinion,”  you said walking with him around the suit. He looked at the suit from every angle. You were touching something on a glass screen, your lips slightly parting as you concentrated.

Placing his beer down, Peter approached you. Maybe it was the alcohol or the smell of your intoxicating perfume. Maybe it was the fact that you were physically here and all his dreams were coming true.

He was standing close behind you. You could feel his breath on your exposed skin; you could smell the traces of beer. Not moving, you felt him come closer. His hand fell on your arm gently as his lips landed softly on your shoulder. His lips were like fire on your skin and you were rapidly melting. Shocks of electricity coursed through your body. Electricity only he was capable of producing.

His lips were soft and gentle on your skin as you pressed your back on his chest. His arm now wrapped around you, fingers spread across your torso. His lips traced a line all the way towards your neck, right below your ear. Your weak spot. He remembered.

A soft moan escaped your lips and with that, you turned your body capturing his lips in a heated embrace. His hands were firmly planted on your back. Yours wrapped around his neck, your fingers softly caressing his hair as the moment grew more fierce and heated. 

The only sounds vibrating on the walls were the sounds of your lips colliding and your soft panting as he pushed you towards the table. His lips were intoxicating, shooting bliss right through your veins.

It’d been too long since you kissed him. Since you were this close to him.

You mumbled something against his lips to which he nodded in agreeance, reluctantly pulling away so you could whisk him away to your room. Just like you had when you were teenagers. Sneaking around. Stealing kisses and secret touches.

The door to your room slammed shut, but no one heard it as the party roared all through the night.

•

“Wow,” Peter huffed laying in bed. Your sheets were draped across his lower body, your own body curled into his in peaceful bliss. Your head was resting on his chest, your fingers tracing circles on his torso.

You could clearly see his abs and you knew he’d definitely changed up his workout routine. He no longer had his boyish thin body, his muscles were perfectly defined. He was a man.

Peter’s hand rubbed your arm gently before running across your neck clutching the back of your head pulling you towards his lips. Your lips collided again. This time, they moved slowly. Your lips intimately reacquainting themselves. His grip was gentle, but maintained your head in place as his other hand wrapped around your back pulling you closer.

“I missed you,” he whispered against your lips and you smiled sharing one last kiss before you rested your head on the pillow close to his face.

“I couldn’t tell,” you joked; your lids were heavy as you smirked. 

He grabbed the hand that was tracing circles on his torso and intertwined your fingers. Your hand slipped into his perfectly like you’d been molded from the same slab of clay; made just for each other.

The two of you looked at your hands intertwined in the air. His fingers opened and closed around your hand checking if this was real. If you were real. You rested your elbow on his chest gently watching him play with your fingers now. His thumb running across your ring finger. Any traces of previous commitments had vanished.

This felt like a clean slate. A new beginning. One you wouldn’t regret.

folklore masterlist

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker fic #the last great american dynasty #folklore #folklore fics

[heyyy-hey-babyyy]

They’re All Wax. Everyone.

Summary: Dean and Y/N investigate the disappearance of some college kids in the small town of Ambrose, only for Y/N to be captured and hurt. Dean looks for her and finds unimaginable horrors.

Pairing: Dean X reader

WARNINGS: Canon-typical violence, horror movie scenes

House of Wax (2005) Fusion with Supernatural

1938 words.

Notes: Please note that I changed the plot a bit, because some of it would not make sense if the main character was Dean Winchester. Just saying…Also this isn’t the whole movie. 

Do you want a part II? Let me know!

Spoilers for House of Wax (2005) below

Dean was just getting into town as the sun was making its descent. The little town was surrounded by rough terrain and flooded gullies, forcing Dean to park the Impala and walk his way toward town, noting that your Dodge Charger was also parked near the faded ‘Welcome’ sign, the lettering cracked and nonexistent.

You hadn’t been answering your phone and Dean began to get worried, as you had split up to investigate the disappearance of some people in town. A couple of college kids were heading up toward the small town of Ambrose, Louisiana, where people were mysteriously vanishing and you figured you'd try to warn them before something bad happened. You were better with people than Dean and it was decided that you would traverse into town and interview the residents about the disappearances. It was rumored that these kids were camping a few miles south of town, so Dean headed in that direction, where he ran into a beat-up pickup truck parked near a pile of rotted animal corpses, the smell overpowering his senses.

Dean, of course, got stuck talking to the hick in the shitty pickup truck who apparently only chucked dead animal carcasses from the side of the road, and dribbled chew down his face. The hick had nothing interesting to say and when Dean left the guy to his dirty work, he realized he hadn’t heard from you in a few hours.

“Son of a bitch.” He muttered glancing down at his phone and seeing no missed calls or texts, before clicking on your name and listening to the phone ring. The call was quickly forwarded to your answering machine, your bright voice instructing the caller to call Dean or “Sammy.” He huffed out a sigh and hurried back to the car, slamming the door and speeding toward the town.

______________________

Dean required hourly check-ins when he was working a case with you without Sam, and you not following his rule made him anxious. He knew he was being overbearing, but he was really just being cautious. You were a good hunter, great even, but you weren’t his brother and he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if you got hurt while you were with him. Truth was, he felt more responsible for you than you knew, and the fact that he wasn’t with you right now was driving him crazy.

He shook the thoughts roughly from his mind and kept walking, his boot thuds echoing off of the vacant store fronts. None of the stores had lights on and there was one lone streetlight shining brightly onto the wet pavement. The entire scene made Dean uneasy and he walked a little faster toward the only store that looked open.

The service station at least had its lights on, and the sign advertised gas for a $1.19, which was comical, and showed the true colors of the ancient town. As Dean kept approaching the station, he began to hear footsteps behind him, trying their best to stay quiet. He gripped his gun tightly and spun around pointing the barrel right between the eyes of the guy who was sneaking up on him.

“Woah, woah woah!” He yelled raising his hands, clearly not expecting Dean to be carrying a weapon. The guy was dressed modernly in a hoodie and loose fitted jeans and stood out against the ancient store fronts.

“Hey man,” the guy continued raising his hands a little higher. “I’m just looking for my sister and her boyfriend.” Dean raised his eyebrows, but kept his gun raised, pointing instead at the guy’s chest.

“And?” Dean asked gruffly, making sure the kid knew he wasn’t about to back down without some more information.

“And my name’s Nick. My sister Carley and her boyfriend Wade came up here a couple hours ago and I haven’t been able to reach them on their cells.” Dean nodded at him once, sticking his gun back into his belt, recognizing the names from the information he knew already.

“Dean.” He stated nodding over his shoulder so Nick would follow. “I had a friend come up here a few hours ago as well, and I haven’t heard from her.” The two continued to walk toward the service station, when a guy dressed all in black, a cap hanging low over his eyes, walked out of the front entrance and locked the door behind him.

“Hey!” Dean called, glancing at Nick and approaching the guy slowly. The guy turned, shocked, before quickly turning his face into a smirk.

“We’re looking for some people. A young couple and a woman. You seen ‘em around?” The guy turned to walk away stating, “I don’t think I’ve seen ‘em.”

“Well, you don’t even know who they are or what they look like.” Dean wasn’t taking that for an answer, and he walked to stand in the guy’s way when Nick spoke up.

“This is the only gas station in town, right?”

The guy stopped briefly, heading to the open garage door. “That’s right.” He closed the door with a click, leaning on it and putting his hand on his hip, glancing up the street.

Dean sighed, annoyed. “Look man, they were here somewhere. Why don’t you just help us out and make this easy.” Dean was getting agitated by the way the guy was acting and didn’t trust him or his dingy hat as far as he could throw them.

“Like I said. I haven’t seen ‘em. Sorry. Can’t help ya.” The guy lumbered over to us staring down Nick as he walked, before turning around sharply to tie his shoe.

He pointed up the road. “You know what. My brother Vincent was down here a bit ago. He might’ve seen ‘em. He’ll be up at the house.” Dean turned to look where he was pointing, up the dark street. When he turned back around the guy was upright again looking smug.

“Wanna head up to the house?”

"Dean weighed his options before speaking, but Nick beat him to it. “Yeah. Whatever.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, looking at Nick, before stating gruffly, “lead the way.”

__________________________

You groaned, picking your head up slowly from the ground, the world quickly coming into focus making your head spin. You gripped it with one hand and pushed yourself to a sitting position with the other, hissing when your weight pressed down on your wrist, which was clearly sprained.

You hadn’t been in the town for more than a few minutes when something heavy hit you in the back of the head and you blacked out falling face first into the dirt.

You moved to open your mouth to take a deep breath and felt your lips resist. It felt like they had been glued shut and moving your finger to try to wrench your mouth open caused your body to shoot with pain. You groaned again and looked around, suddenly meeting the eye of a young girl climbing on top of a chair toward a closed grate in the ceiling.

She looked at you, eyes wide, and you nodded your head encouragingly, standing on wobbly legs, your head pounding. She reached as far as she could, sticking a finger through one of the holes waving at what you realized were muffled voices from outside.

You approached her slowly, when suddenly she wrenched her hand back toward her, blood spurting out wildly from a missing finger on her left hand. Her screams were muffled from her trapped lips, and you rushed toward her helping her stop the bleeding with one hand, while pulling your lips apart roughly with the other, feeling them split and the blood trickle down your lips. You finished tearing your mouth open when you heard a familiar gruff voice.

“Dean!” You screamed as loud as your lungs would allow. “I’m down here!”

_______________________________

Dean spun around wildly, hearing his name called from below. He reached into the back of his pants for his gun but when he turned back the guy had disappeared down the dark street. Dean swore under his breath focusing on the task at hand and headed toward the unlocked garage door, wrenching it open loudly. The wooden door to the room downstairs was locked, but Dean kicked it in easily, seeing Y/N covered in blood holding a young woman as she sobbed quietly. Both women’s faces were bleeding, and Dean rushed forward grabbing Y/N by the shoulders looking into her exploded pupils.

“Are you okay?” He asked gruffly, looking her over. She nodded, gasping quietly, and pointed at the young girl, who Nick was checking over. Dean watched them rip her lips open and he winced seeing them tear to match Y/N’s. Looking around the room quickly, it looked like the guy had super glued their mouths shut before heading upstairs. Dean grabbed Y/N’s hand glancing at her and pulled her up the stairs, Nick and Carley following slowly, Nick bearing much of Carley’s weight.

“The Impala is parked next to your car, let’s get back over there quickly.” Dean stated, hating the idea of leaving that man alive, but recognizing the tell-tale signs of blood loss, as Carley wrapped her missing finger in the torn bottom of the shirt she was wearing. Y/N was staring blankly forward, clearly concussed, and was having trouble standing on her own. Dean inched his arm over her shoulders and held her to him protectively.

“What about the other kids?” Y/N asked weakly, trying not to move her mouth much.

“What about Wade?” Carley suddenly yelled. “What if he turns him to wax?!”

Dean stopped in his tracks looking back at Carley, his arm still gripping around Y/N’s shoulders tightly.

“What do you mean wax?” He asked, furrowing his brow.

“You don’t get it!” She shouted back. “They’re all wax! Everyone.”

She turned roughly and stared out the window.

“No. Wait.” Suddenly she was out the door and down the street, Dean, Y/N, and Nick following her close.

“There was a woman in here,” she stated quietly, checking left and right down the street, before running up to the faded picket fence in front of the dilapidated house. Dean gripped Y/N’s shoulders as she approached, her legs still wobbly from not being used. We approached the picket fence and Nick jumped over it to get close to the curtained windows peering in, the buzz of a TV the only sound heard.

“She pulled back the curtain,” Carley stated, standing back with Dean and you. Nick looked in closely, jumping back startled when a woman suddenly pulled back the curtain. She had white hair pulled up into curlers and her dead eyes stared unseeing out into the distance. Even from this far back Dean could tell the woman wasn’t alive from the unnatural tinge of her skin.

“The whole town is rigged.” Carley said hopelessly.

“That’s impossible.” Nick stated, staring at the woman as she exited view slowly, the curtain falling back into place, dust whispering against the glass. Minutes later, the woman appeared again, gears grinding harshly on the mechanism that pushed her toward the window.

Nick peeked into the house again. “You’re saying that’s a real person…underneath?”

“Yes,” Carley responded anxiously. “At the church they were all like that. 20 people at least.”

Y/N suddenly wobbled under her own weight, her knees giving out. Dean gripped her shoulders harder, yanking her to a standing position.

“Guys,” He started, glancing at Nick and Carley. “We need to get out of here.” Y/N’s eyes started to droop, and Dean looked at her quickly.

“Now.”

Read Part II Here

#spn spoilers #SPN FANDOM #spn fanfiction #spn crack #SPN #supernatural family #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #dean x reader #protective dean #horror movie #house of wax #house of wax (2005) #chad michael murray #Horror Supernatural AU #Horror supernatural fusion #horror film #horror #violence #fanfic #fanfiction #spn au fanfiction

[simmonsofshield]

Reassignment

Part 1/1

Pairing: none Characters: Kate Beckett, Kevin Ryan, Javier Esposito, Jemma Simmons, Philip Coulson

Summary: Amidst clean up after the Battle of New York, things happen and Officer Y/N ends up in the quinjet’s medical bay.

Words: 1900+

A/N:  Unplanned, but I guess in honor of my url change, Jemma has a small feature in this fic! This was originally gonna be a copy-paste of one of my fics from wattpad, but then I wanted to make it more accurate to New York so 98% of this is new writing. So much for trying to cut corners. 🤷😂 Loose tie-ins of Agents of SHIELD and Castle. (Characters, not really the shows..) Canonically, Skye (Daisy) wouldn’t have her powers yet, but my story my rules lol. So she does. Three weeks late (I was suppose to post this on the 1st), but at least I got it done, right? This is for @fanfictionaries​‘s classic trope challenge. I chose police au. Takes place after Avengers.

Police codes key: 12-David-19 [Precinct # - city section - police car id] used 9th precinct as reference 10-50 Disorderly (group, person, noise) non-crime 10-10 Possible crime (many tags, the one i use is P, suspicious person/prowler)

“Here’s what’s going on today,” Captain Beckett begins, “it’s been almost six months since the Battle of New York. Midtown South is still asking for help with crowd control and patrol of the area, as most of their officers are helping with clean up. I told them the 12th Precinct is happy to help as long as it doesn’t interfere with our daily patrols. Today they’re only asking for two, so Ryan and Esposito, it’s on you today. Just make sure no weirdos or teens with sticky fingers try to get in the rubble.”

“Yes Captain.”

“L/N, my office, please.”

You look at her with surprise, then over to the boys. Ryan is the first to speak, rolling his eyes, “Of course. Little Y/N getting special treatment once again. I bet you’re getting put on a really cool case. You know, she’s basically training you to be a mini her.”

You roll your eyes back at him, “Sounds like you’re just jealous because I rose to this rank in half the time it took you.”

“Ooooo...” Esposito calls from his desk, “want some ice for that burn?”

“Shut up,” he mumbles as he slumps back in his chair.

You laugh as you walk to Beckett’s office, the door being closed behind you. You start to get worried when she starts shutting the blinds too. “Captain?”

She sets a file in front of you and begins explaining. “Though Kevin was joking, he wasn’t wrong. You have impressed me since you came here from the academy. You were the youngest to be promoted to detective, and your persistence hasn’t gone unnoticed. Which is why I think you’re perfect for this particular assignment.”

She nods to the file, and you pick it up, opening it. Your brows furrow at the first page and you look back up at her, “I don’t understand. Philip Coulson died on a helicarrier before the attack on New York even happened. Didn’t Loki kill him or whatever?”

“Originally, yes.”

“Originally?”

“Most if it is redacted and classified, but what was released - specifically for you in this file, turn the page - was that some experimental tech was used and more or less brought him back to life.”

You read exactly that as she says it, but you’re left with more questions than answers with every page turn. “What do you mean specifically for me? How many people know he’s alive?”

She blows out some air, sitting down at her desk to look you in the eye, “Only SHIELD level 7 and above. We are of only a few civilians that know. This cannot leave this room. The only others that know are ones that will be a part of this team that Agent Coulson is putting together alongside Agent Maria Hill and Director Fury.”

Again, more questions. “But...I’m a homicide detective...not SHIELD...” You pause for a moment as you try to form a question with all the information that is now in your mind, “Why me?” is what you come up with.

She shrugs, “That’s a question for Coulson or Hill. I can’t answer it. You’ll work today but after that you’ll be with SHIELD and Coulson,” she nods back to the file, “I suggest you finish reading through that tonight.” She stands up and walks toward the door.

“I’m sorry, Captain, one last question,” she lets go of the door handle and turns around, “what does all this mean for this job? Am I like fired or something?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” she says with a smile, “Agent Hill and I already discussed the technicalities, but basically what will be said is that you’re going undercover with SHIELD for a big operation and you’ll be gone for a few weeks. Which, really, isn’t that much of a lie.”

You nodded, somewhat understanding, “Yes, ma’am. See you in a few weeks, I guess.”

She also nods, smiling, “Likewise, detective.”

Nearing the end of your shift, you’re about to head back to the station when there’s an aggravated call on the scanner. “10-50. These crowds are getting out of hand. More officers needed in Midtown near Grand Central.”

You go back and forth in your head for a moment before deciding to respond, “Dispatch, add 12-David-19 to that 10-50 call. En route from East Village. ETA about 20 minutes.” You turn on your lights and try to get there as fast as you can.

Arriving on scene, you park about four blocks away, at Park and 38th, which is as close as you can get with all the rubble and destroyed buildings. This is the main drag of where most of the Avenger’s fight happened. It’s no surprise that half of New York is here to see the damage, even six months later.

Now on foot, you’re about halfway to Grand Central Station when you hear the breaking of glass and catch some suspicious activity out of the corner of your eye. You follow, talking into your radio, “This is 12-David-19. I’ve got a 10-10P. Kids breaking windows of businesses. It doesn’t look like they’ve stolen anything yet. I’m going to keep an eye on them. Requesting one or two officers for backup if anyone can leave Grand Central Station. 40th street, headed NorthEast.”

You casually follow at a distance until all of a sudden, “Whoa, dudes, check this out!” One of the kids picks up a weapon of some sort. Clearly not of this world and from the Battle, you’re 99% sure. He poses with it and one of his friends takes a picture of him with their phone. “I wonder what this button does.”

“Ahh!” Whatever came out of the weapon hits you directly in the shoulder and you fall to the ground. This is the first time the group of kids notice your presence. They fight for a moment, deciding whether to run or help. A groan from you cuts their argument short and most leave, while two stay.

By what you can tell with your blurry vision, they seem to be brothers. The one walking towards you is clearly friends with the ones that fled, while the other is younger. If you had to guess, you’d say early high school, 14-16, and 12ish for their ages.

You grab your radio and talk into it softly. Hopefully someone will be able to hear you. “Ambulance needed at location of 10-10. Officer down, shot with some sort of alien weapon.”

The older one kneels beside you and takes off his shirt, wrapping it around your wound, attempting to make a tourniquet. You let out a raspy laugh. It’s not quite right, but you appreciate the attempt. “You seem to know what you’re doing.”

You can see the fear still on his face but he smiles nonetheless, “I’ve seen a few medical shows. I think this is right.”

“Anything to slow the bleeding. You’re doing good. What’s your name?”

“Derek Saunders. Am I going to jail?”

“N-no, why would you think that?”

“My friend shot you. Aren’t I an accessory or whatever?”

You shake your head, “You watch cop shows too?” you joke.

“My dad’s a cop. He’s helping at Grand Central right now.”

You cough out another laugh. How convenient. You’re about to tell him to call his dad on your radio when you hear another blast. It feels like it happens in slow motion. You watch as the burst of energy goes up at an angle and hits the building next to where you’re laying. You hear the boy yell something in the opposite direction, you’re assuming at his brother, who most likely got curious and picked up the alien weapon. You see the huge pieces of building falling towards you and Derek.

You let out a scream, though you’re not sure how loud it is due to your blood loss and how tired you’re getting. You close your eyes, knowing the inevitable is going to happen, and just waiting for it. You feel the ground rumble and try to open your eyes to understand what's going on, but you can’t.

Your world goes black.

You wake up to the sound of steady beeping. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the brightness of the fluorescent lights, but once you do you begin to panic. You know this is medical equipment and you’re in a room of some sort, but you’re not sure, something doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t seem like a hospital room.

You hear the whooshing of an automatic door sliding open. “It’s okay, officer. No need to panic. You are in great hands.” A pleasant British voice says to you. It does put you at ease a little.

The brunette seems to be taking your vitals or something at the moment, writing on a clipboard. You clear your throat, “Uh..where am I?”

“Oh of course,” she smiles embarrassedly, “welcome to the Bus. We’re with SHIELD. You’re safe.” she reassures.

“The Bus?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Yes,” your eyes shoot to the new voice, “welcome aboard.”

“Agent Coulson.” You try to sit up, but the pain in your shoulder stops you. You wince and lay back down.

“I assumed our meeting would be under better circumstances, but this’ll have to do.” he says with a smile. “Thank you, Simmons.” he nods at the girl and she leaves.

“What happened?”

“We heard your call on 40th.”

“Were you tracking me?”

“No,” he scoffs, “just making sure you didn’t get hurt before we got to meet you. Kinda failed at that, huh?”

You can’t help but chuckle a little, “Okay, but how the heck did I....” you trailed off, trying to think of how to word your question.

“Not die?” he looks at you, finishing your sentence.

“Uh, yeah.”

“You have Skye to thank for that. To avoid a lengthy explanation, she has the ability to ‘quake’ things apart and stopped the piece of building from falling on you and the young man helping you.”

“What happened to Derek and his brother?”

“They’re safe. And the weapon has been confiscated, now SHIELD property.”

You nodded, content with his explanations. There’s a lull in the conversation and you take the time to actually take in your surroundings. The room you’re in is glass on three sides, the fourth being a wall of shelves for medical items. You look down at yourself, not in a gown like a hospital, but someone’s tank top and shorts. You’d have to ask about that later. You focus on your shoulder, eyes going wide. It still hurts, but looks completely healed. 

“Pretty cool, huh?” you look at Agent Coulson, who is smiling like a proud dad, “you’d lost a lot of blood by the time we found you. We immediately put you in the tissue regeneration pod and got it going on your shoulder. It looks healed, but you’ll have to stay in here for a couple more days and be monitored.”

“Tissue regeneration? How long was I out?”

“From when we found you to getting you to the pod, only a few minutes, but we had to anesthetize you so you wouldn’t wake up during the regeneration, so you've been out for about 16 hours.”

“Oh.” is all you’re able to say, still taking it in. Tissue regeneration. How are you supposed to comprehend that? “Thanks, I guess.”

He nods, “So are you ready to discuss your new position with SHIELD?”

Besides the man being in front of you, you had completely forgotten about your transition from NYPD detective to possibly SHIELD agent? The two of you certainly had a lot to talk about. “Yes, sir.”

#mcu x reader #marvel x reader #agents of shield fanfiction #FanFictionariesClassicTropeChallenge #aos fanfiction #MCU fanfiction #aos ff #agents of shield ff #aos fanfic #mcu ff #agents of shield

[edorazzi]

Well, here we are again! Twitter said yes to a review post for a Miraculous magazine that suddenly showed up in my local area. ‘Tis the season after all, and by that I mean someone bought it for me as a joke birthday gift and I was way too happy about that.

I’ve done previous reviews of the Miraculous Christmas calendar, Easter egg set, superhero fashion dolls and action figures, so let’s dive into the unknown world of merchandising yet again!

(As always, if you enjoy my posts, please consider checking out my Twitter page or supporting me on Patreon for lots of bonus content!)

4 FREE GIFTS! PACKED WITH ACTIVITIES! MEET THE KWAMIS! PRANKS & LOLS! CUT-OUT MEMES! FANGIRL ALERT! NAIL ART! 100% OFFICIAL! I’m overwhelmed! It feels like I’m having a seizure just from the packaging!!! 

I should preface this by saying I haven’t bought a magazine like this in years. Possibly ever. I read things like the Beano, Animals & You and the odd Disney Princess zine when I was a kid but I have no idea what to expect from a free-gift-packed kiddie magazine in 2019. If the outside is anything to go by we’re in for a wild ride.

I’m noticing that it says “Miraculous #20″ on the back. Does this mean I’ve missed 19 previous issues? I’m genuinely a little upset by that. My local area is a complete dry zone for Miraculous so I haven’t had the chance to pick these up.

First step: let’s separate everything out and get a look at these freeeee giftssss. Except they aren’t free, because this magazine was like £3.99. This does seem to be the current trend - it’s kinda rare to see any kids’ zines without the excess packaging crammed with ‘free’ stuff. Is it really too expensive to just produce the magazine? Probably, in this economy.

Chat Noir is revealed on the cover! He was on the back of the plastic jacket, but it’s still nice to see the kids as a front-cover duo. Apparently we’re going to learn to draw Pollen, too, which sounds fun. I’m actually liking the look of the gifts as well, but we’ll get into those in a minute.

This hairbrush............. is adorable. Oh my god. It’s pretty cheap and flimsy but it functions the way it’s supposed to, and the Ladybug design has been taken into account in a better way than “it’s red/black, that counts” (lest we forget the UTTER BULLSHIT of the Christmas calendar, and YES I’m still mad about that). I don’t know how well I expect the outer sticker to last, but if it can take a bit of wear and tear this would be an adorable little travel brush. Nicely done, lads!

These nail stickers? Also adorable. They remind me of the kiddie makeup sets I had when I was little, back in the early 00s when plastic stick-on nails and decals were all the rage. Are they still a thing? That’s nice to know.

There are 13 designs (that I can count) - a Queen Bee mask, Chat Noir pawprint cake, macaron, cupcake, heart-print cookie, Ladybug stud, flower, lightning bolt, love heart, Marinette heart, bee, fox tail and star. The majority are directly related to the show and that makes them feel special. No Carapace though? :(

I’ve put a little Marinette heart on my furthest finger. At the time of typing this up (about a day later) it’s still firmly in place. I haven’t really knocked it around, granted, but it’s not flimsy enough to fall off after five minutes either. It’s also really cute to look at. Guess I’m still a decal-loving 2004 girl at heart......

These stickers though!!! Wow! They’re those holographic and slightly-puffy kind and they feel like pretty good quality, and the designs are so cute! I can’t fault these, they’re absolutely adorable. I immediately want to stick them everywhere.

So I’ve stuck them everywhere. I’m especially proud of the light switch pun. My room looks GREAT.

I saved these “mystery stickers” for last because I’m weak for the thrill of mystery bags, and there wasn’t anything on the packaging to indicate what kind of designs to expect. And OH!!!! OH, IT’S MY BOY!!!! Look at him!!!! 

I made jokes with the Christmas calendar about all the Chat Noir items being stolen ahead of time, but that’s definitely NOT the case with this magazine. I have been SPOILED with the presence of my cat son.

These stickers are similar to the sticker sheet (and the Chillin’ Out design is reprinted), but they’re puffier and non-holographic. I’m deeply allured by the “decorate your phone or tablet” suggestion on the packet, but I’m going to see how the previous stickers withstand the wear-and-tear of my laptop lid before adding any more. If I damage these beautiful Adrien stickers I’ll be devastated.

Those are our free gifts! They’re actually very fun and cute, I’m really happy with them! I guess now it’s time to get into the magazine itself...........

I genuinely almost forgot the magazine was the main part of this package. I figured I was done, but we’ve barely even started! Here’s a splash page of the kwami. Kwami with a capital K? Kwamis? I still feel like it should be singular-lower-case-k-kwami. I’ve never been happy about this “miraculouses” business either.

But is that--

It IS!!!! It’s Nino!!! 

I guess this is the new flavour of Miraculous tie-ins. Now they’ve broadened out to a full team we’re seeing a lot more of Adrien alongside the girls, and Nino is the elusive hero who shows up once in a blue moon. At least this time his name isn’t in the title of the gotdam show.......

Anyway, I can see I’m supposed to draw my “fave Kwami”. Better get to it.

Felix just wants a break. Just one break. But not in this magazine.

Speaking of seeing more of Adrien (and, tragically, less of Nino), this is the kind of splash page I want to see! Both kids are here! The banner themed with Marinette’s signature flowers is a nice touch too; that’s associated with her arts ‘n’ crafts in the show already and it makes sense to apply it to the creative portion of this magazine too.

I LOVE the promotion of Chat Noir nails as something the little girls buying this magazine will definitely want to try. I’d expect them to do Marinette vs Ladybug nails, but instead we get a boyish option! Hell yeah!

I’m a little confused by the Queen Bee masks apparently going on the Chat Noir nails though. I guess they’re friends? Is this secret AdriChlo confirmation? Watch out, Marinette, Kagami’s not the one to be worried about.

SURE WOULD BE NICE TO HAVE SOME TURTLE STICKERS FOR AN ALL-BOYS THEME BUT I GUESS NOT HUH

Next up is a short merch catalogue (why would you put the big bold arrow pointing right to the underoos.....). Would those Chat Noir socks come in my size? Asking for me.

Then there’s......... this page. FANGIRL ALERT. God. It’s like the Ladyblog, if only the Ladyblog ever gave a heck about reporting what Chat Noir’s up to.

THE SPELL WAS BROKEN AND THE FANDOM IMPLODED WITH JOY.

I really have to wonder what age range this is meant for. Do kids know what a “fandom” is? Do little girls consider themselves “fangirls”? I guess most kids have enough internet access to figure it out these days (all the hashtags and LOLs and memes speak volumes), but I can’t imagine being young enough to fit the target range of this magazine while also knowing these terms. I dunno.

(Also, the definition of ‘implosion’ is ‘an instance of something collapsing violently inwards’, so I’m not sure that’s the word they’re looking for. Unless the return to the status quo in Dark Cupid and the continuing stagnation of the love square was enough to make people quit in frustration? Probably.)

I’m filling it in, of course. Because I must.

I gave up on the pre-approved ratings system pretty much right away, but I think this is an accurate rating of my LadyNoir opinions. 

I might be kinda cynical about it here, but I am actually pretty fond of how this magazine sells Ladybug and Chat Noir as a couple. The show’s portraying it as very onesided lately, with Chat pining over Ladybug who has absolutely no interest in him (Glaciator was a TERRIBLE episode and I’m still hurting from it), but reading this zine I’d guess they were already dating. It’s cheesy, but in a nice way.

I have to laugh at “the most amazing thing about this super duo is that they always look out for and protect each other” though. Chat’s usually pretty focused on LB, sure, but there are endless instances of LB using Chat as cannon fodder and just generally abandoning him to get mauled by akuma while she carries out her personal private plan to save the day. Maybe we’re just focusing on the better-written episodes, huh?

Moving ahead. I’ve been dreading this page since reading “Plaggs Pranks & LOLs” on the back of the packaging. I feel hatred in my very bones just looking at it.

I like that there’s ONE instance of the term “ladybird” in the joke column. This is a UK-based magazine and that IS the word we tend to use over here - “ladybug” is an Americanism - but it’s like they’re worried kids could have got to the middle of this magazine about a superhero named Ladybug and then not understand the bug jokes. Maybe whoever was writing this page slipped up?

OH NOOOOO. MARINETTE, NOOOOOOOOOO.

THIS IS WHY FELIX GOT RID OF YOU, PLAGG. THESE ARE ADRIEN’S PROBLEMS NOW.

(mmm whatcha saaaaay)

I mean........... YEAH, I guess, but we absolutely did see Plagg destroy Felix with an entire shelf of heavy books. I guess he’s nicer with Adrien. It’s all fun and games until someone has a nervous breakdown in the library.

I do love the concept of Tikki getting glitter-bombed by Plagg through the mail. She just curiously opens up the little letter which got slipped into Marinette’s purse, and-- WOOSH. One entire wall of Mari’s room is glittery except for a little Tikki-shaped silhouette. 

Next up is a two-page comic which is absolutely adorable! Look at those little chibis! The warm and soft colour palette! This is nicer than most of the official Miraculous comic book art I’ve seen, I hope they keep giving this artist work.

Nino’s here too (and he looks great!), and I like the touch of Marinette and Adrien playing as each other’s superhero characters. Adrien even wins the match, though I guess there’s something to be said about Ladybug beating Chat Noir (again)...... 

It does raise the question yet again of where this tie-in merchandise is coming from! They’ve had action figures, a movie, music video features, now an arcade game... Who’s getting the royalties here? Who’s profiting? Is this how Fu can afford to buy all those rare ingredients for the magic potions?

Over the page we have an activity to Design your Secret Lair! Right away I love the Marinette theme of the page, the soft pink and flowers, and the drawing space looking like a page in a binder with marker tabs and everything.

I have to design my secret lair, of course: 

What do you think? I’m very creative. I’ll need an adult to send in the drawing of my hideout but I think I’ve really got a shot at those unicorn headphones.

Now we’re on to puzzles and character pages. I don’t know what ol’ Gabe is doing trying to meet a 13 year old girl in the dead of night without telling anyone, you’d think if he’s got that much free time on his hands he could be spending it with his son.

I don’t know how those points in Ladybug’s power profile are awarded or what they mean, but you can tell this is a fan magazine. Official sources would have put her at a 10.

Standard House of Villains page! Most of these were good episodes but I’m deeply offended Riposte isn’t on here. Maybe her motives weren’t dramatic and cartoonish enough to be up in the ranks with Glaciator and Gorizilla?

“Cat Noir’s dad is also the evil Hawk Moth”, huh? I mean that’s not WRONG, but is it really something to put in his power profile when Adrien doesn’t even know yet??? Feels like we’re kinda jumping the gun on the poor boy. What if he picks up this magazine?

Apparently he’s one point weaker than Ladybug (seriously???), two points faster, equally as agile, one point less skilled and two points less cool. Despite all those lesses he still comes out at an equal 9, which is a relief! These kids are a team, putting either of them below the other would have been a big no.

I did the colouring page too, naturally. Je suis un artiste.

Now we’ve got a page fresh from the Ladyblog, a Miraculous quiz! Not a lot of excitement, but it’s nice to see Alya getting her own section.

I like that the qualifications of “you could be Ladybug herself!” are knowing what city Marinette lives in and what school she goes to. Well done, Mari! You’re doing your best!!!

TEACHER I AM SO HUNGRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

I gotta say, I’m not so sure about decorating donuts with fondant. I’ve never tried it so I could be wrong, but it feels like rolled icing instead of frosting(?) would be too heavy for an entire donut. The texture is totally different.

I mean I guess if you’re going to load your kids up on sugar you might as well go all the way. They’re going to look like they’ve eaten something horrible with all that black fondant, but they’ll have fun. Adrien would love these.

WHERE’S NINO. THIS IS JUST UNFAIR. You’ll have four out of five heroes, then a double of Marinette and Tikki? Maybe this just goes to show how little memorable dialogue Carapace has.

Though if “Spots On!” is Marinette’s dialogue and not Ladybug’s, why are the other transformation phrases attributed to Rena Rouge and Queen Bee instead of Alya and Chloé? Surely they could have picked something better for Marinette to justify having her on this list twice instead of Nino.

The next page brings us one of those flowchart quizzes! And ouch, yet again the absence of the other heroes is obvious. I can understand not including Chloé here since she’s technically not a “friendly” character yet, but no Nino? Alya and Marinette are close friends, but Adrien doesn’t really hang out with them without Nino around. Having the three of them together just seems strange.

I do like the little fashion page! They’re all cute and affordable and easy to find on the high street here. I’d love to see how other issues of this magazine are structured; is there a different fashion spot every time? Styles to channel each individual hero would be adorable.

Moving on to a tutorial for a Ladybug notebook! I would have made this, but I didn’t have the time nor a notebook to stick it to.

Between this and the donuts, it seems weird that these designs are based on, like... an actual beetle, eyes and antennae and all. Shouldn’t it be Ladybug’s symbol? These come across more like “fun animals” arts ‘n’ crafts instead of themed after Miraculous specifically. I think if I made this (or decorated the donuts) I’d miss out the head and match the spot pattern to Ladybug’s symbol. 

The hidden message design is adorable though. I can see this being a craft kids are super proud of.

Another activity page! I didn’t have a go at these but they’re pretty standard. It’s cute that the coded message designs are the same as the stickers and nail decals!

Also, apparently Ladybug’s ‘secret’ is “LB mask + heart + CN mask”, which was (somehow) stolen by Volpina. Is that the secret Hawk Moth was talking about earlier in the magazine? Is he blackmailing Ladybug with revealing she has a crush on Chat Noir? How did Volpina ‘steal’ this secret? Is LadyNoir finally reciprocated???? THIS IS A WHOLE EPISODE IN ITSELF, I NEED ANSWERS--

Next page we have an ad for another girly magazine (Quizzes! LOLs! Celebs! Cringes! Puzzles!). I think I’ll pass, no matter how appealing that giant microphone pen is. 

And a “Miraculous Identity” quiz! Tikki’s apparently super fickle with her wielders, three seasons of relentlessly praising Marinette and now she’s telling us we’re the Chosen Ones. You can’t fool me with those big ol’ eyes.

My inner superhero is Marvellous Fox, by the way. Though yet again I’m noticing we don’t have turtle options...................

And on the back cover... the memes. Oh, sweet lord, the memes. They’re hashtag-SoRelatable! And I can cut them out to keep! Oh boy!!!

Is this what kids do when they have limited internet access? Cut fresh memes out of magazines and carry them around? I need to know.

That’s a very sinister Ladybug at the bottom of the page though. What’s-- What’s she going to do to me if I don’t cut out and keep these memes. Ladybug what are you going to do if I d--

Well that brings us to the end of the magazine! And yet again I’m surprised by how much time it takes to just put a bunch of photos together and write about them.

This is a neat little magazine all in all! The ‘free gifts’ are pretty nice, there’s a fair amount of content and the whole thing is pretty cute for young fans of the show. I could see myself buying this again - if it ever shows up on shelves, Miraculous is so scarce around here that I fully expect it to disappear again after this one issue - just for the free junk, but it would be interesting to see how they’d structure different issues too!

I notice we never did get that promised tutorial on how to draw Pollen; the one advertised on the cover. Was the “draw your favourite Kwami” activity supposed to cover that? I’m not sure that really counts.

If you got this far, thanks for joining me on this Miraculous journey! We’ll meet again whenever I get another piece of weird ML merch to cover. Bien joué!

#miraculous ladybug #josie talks about things #josie's art #i really should get a review tag #ANYWAY there's a bit more art in this which isn't just the header image so give it a look! #and felix features a couple of times because WHY would he not on edorazzi dot com

[babyybitchhh]

What comes first... Talking Senku into having sex with someone? Or him making sex toys for someone? Because I know for a fact he'd probably make toys before ever having sex. I don't know. That's what I feel like he'd do.

🤔

Personally I think that depends on the environment and how much of a workload he’s got on his plate at the time. This is a valid question so I’m going to give it a two part answer, hope you don’t mind. Lol

In a modern setting I do think Senkuu would probably feel more comfortable working his way up to having full blown sex in a very methodical and experimental manner. If you can pique his interest, he’d want to know all the ins and outs of not only sexuality itself but also what that means to you. His approach might very well come off as impersonal but he’d definitely want to find out what makes you tick before jumping in so I think once the subject was broached, his first question would be “why”.

“Because I like you, you stupid genius. Do you want me to spell it out for you?”

His next question would probably be “what do you expect out of this?” Now, that’s a pretty hard question to answer, especially if you’re not so sure yourself. Not to worry though. Senkuu is a resourceful man who would welcome open dialogue about this topic and I can easily see him encouraging you to show him examples of what you’d like to experience. He’s not the sort to willingly go in without a plan, after all. So if that leads to you sending him porn clips at two in the morning when you’re too worked up to sleep ... then so be it.

He’d look at everything with a discerning eye, easily picking out the parts that you like and distancing them from what you tell him you don’t like. Once hes gathered enough data to feel like he has a solid grasp on your sexual interests, he’d be ready to start the experiment phase. Depending on what you’re comfortable with, that could mean simply making out and fondling (let me just throw it out there that he’d pick up on kissing soooo fast 😩) listening to you touch yourself over the phone while you narrate everything for him or even some mutual masturbation sessions in his room. The point is, he knows what you like when it’s someone else on the receiving end so now he’s putting together a solid case for what YOUR body responds to.

And when I say he’d remember every little detail ... y’all. The way your breath catches in your throat when you’re getting close. The soft sighs of pleasure when you tweak your nipple just so. The speed and intensity at which you rub your cute little pussy. It’s all so fascinating to him and Senkuu would find that he actually greatly enjoys taking what gets your brain going in theory (the porn) and figuring out how to apply that in practice. It’s one of the most exciting equations he’s ever worked with.

But now comes the hands on portion of this little experiment. Rest assured, after compiling all that data he would master the art of tuning your body like a goddamn fiddle in record time. I have no doubt he’d make you cum on his first attempt and he’d consider that a resounding success. He’s not the sort who’d give up anyway but with all the knowledge you’ve given him, it’s not hard to figure out how you like to have your clit stroked when he’s the one doing it. If it’s stimulation of the g-spot that gets you off, don’t worry. Him and those long, spindly digits have got you, baby girl. If you need a finger in the butt to experience an earthshaking orgasm then that’s fine too. He’s not scared. Each new discovery would be neatly filed away for later use, every little reaction he pulls from you stored away in that big sexy brain of his.

And once he’s confident that his fingers have experienced everything your body has to offer, it’s time to repeat the process with his mouth. Titties? Sucked. (A lot, because I’m convinced he’s a boob man) Pussy? Ate until you’re a whimpering, twitching mess. Booty? If you’re into that, he WILL go to town (but only after you’re fresh out the shower because he’s too smart not to know about harmful bacteria lol)

After that, he’d definitely switch to toys instead of taking the plunge himself. I mean, there’s so many different kinds on the market and he’d want to know exactly how you respond to each one. Bullet vibes, silicone dildos, realistic and otherwise, vibrators that can be inserted, vibrators with beads in them that roll around when you turn it on, g-spot vibes, clit stimulators, remote controlled vibes, anal beads, butt plugs, vibrating butt plugs, nipple suckers, nipple clamps. Even something as seemingly mundane as a clothespin can and WILL be used on you and I see absolutely no reason why he’d shy away from experimenting with a vegetable or two if you were up for it. 💀 I can also really see him being into some light D/s play, nothing too crazy but his sadistic demon lord side is not all for show and he’d love to tie your wrists to the headboard so he can tease you for an hour or two.

Let me pause for one minute here to mention that Senkuu is a Capricorn and, generally speaking, they tend to find a great deal of satisfaction in physical pleasures. I think he’d end up really enjoying sex but the hurdle is actually getting him to stop thinking about science long enough to realize he has someone right in front of him who is not only willing but also WANTS to explore that avenue with him. He’s a little too one track minded to realize on his own so you’d definitely need to be the one who does the nudging here. He’s only going to have eyes for chemistry unless you grab his face and MAKE him look at you.

After that though? It’s a fucking wrap.

Now ... if we’re talking the stone world? Senkuu is very dedicated to his goal of restoring civilization to its former greatness so he really just does not have the time for all this. I can see either one of two things happening.

A: you tell him you’re down to clown and, while shocked flattered, he tells you that now is just not a good time. He has so much work to do, so many different things to focus on. He’s nothing if not an open minded individual though and if you persist on this topic, he’d offer to make you some sort of toy to get by with.

“If I build it myself, it’ll kind of be like I’m the one making you feel good, right?”

Or B: you’re adamant enough that Senkuu just can’t appease you with a blithe imitation of what you really want that he has no other option BUT to give in. Without having any previous experience to go off of, he’d be soooo out of his element and much less confident in his approach than he would be in the modern setting scenario. Lots of fumbling and awkward moments, uncertainty. But he’d just have to fast track through the experimental phase and figure out what you like vs what you don’t with a straight up hands on approach. Luckily for us he enjoys a good challenge. 😏

Of course then you have the galaxy brain option C which is accepting the sex toy he makes for you and then continuing to ask for sex like a pitiable orphan in a Charles Dickens novel until he agrees. Have your cake and eat it too, Queen!

TL;DR: Senkuu would prefer to take things slow by building up to it with toys and lots of information gathering but if you’re a hardheaded little thing then he will absolutely rise to the occasion. And I do mean that literally.

[snarkwriteswrasslin]

what ifs; adam page [three]

Notes:

Part three of the fic. I think I had up to six written and like I said... I swear to God, an update is incoming, eventually. For now, if you missed the last part, don’t worry, I got you. [part two] 

Summary:

Their paths seemed destined to cross. This picks up the morning after their run ins at the supermarket and at the club Ivy’s dancing at at night. And yes, it is every bit as tense as you’d imagine..

Pairing:

Adam Hangman Page x OFC, Ivy Barlow

Warnings:

alcohol mentions, sexual tension, angst and mentions of stripping.

His head was pounding like a drum and the banging on his bedroom door wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. He shot up in bed, glaring as the hair tie that he’d apparently forgotten about and taken out of his hair during the night shot onto the floor.

“Get your ass up, son. We got work t’ do.”

He remembered then, he’d promised his dad that he’d go over to the Bar Low with him today, help out with some of the repairs and starting to prepare for the harvest. But his head was pounding so hard that he wanted nothing more than to go back on his word.

He knew his father well enough to know that wasn’t going to wash, so Adam got out of bed, wincing gingerly as he reached for the light switch and the light flooded the room. “I’m up, dad.” he finally managed to answer and his father peered in.

“You ain’t dressed yet?” the man shook his head in disbelief and Adam could only shrug and mumble something about the party the night before. His father shut the door to his bedroom and Adam grabbed for a gray tee shirt and a pair of old blue jeans, nearly hitting the floor when he clumsily tried to put both legs into one side of his pants. He stepped into the hallway, pulling the tee shirt down over his head as he emerged at the foot of the stairs and made his way into the kitchen.

He went straight for the coffee pot and poured himself a cup of strong black coffee and then he grabbed a plate, heaping it full of the breakfast his mom made and took a seat at the table.

His mom was the first one to mention her name. Not that it surprised Adam at all, his mom made it a point to try and mention Ivy Barlow at least two or three times during his visits home. Adam stabbed at his scrambled eggs and kept his eyes on his plate as everything they managed to say to one another replayed over and over again in his head. He grimaced and suddenly, his hangover wasn’t the only reason he wanted to back out of going over to the Bar Low and pitching in.

His mother cleared her throat. “Are you listenin to me?”

“Yeah, yeah.. I know.. I gotta repair the fence.”

“No, I said that maybe, while you’re there, you and Ivy could… Talk.” his mother was giving him that look and all he could do was tense up. She wasn’t gonna just let this go, he could feel it in his bones.

“Not happenin, momma.” Adam shot it down quickly and firmly as he met her gaze and shook his head.

“You’re just as stubborn as that man across the table. Son, you two used to be best friends. Ivy might need that right now. From what I understand, her life hasn’t been that great.”

“Ivy’s doin just fine.” Adam barely managed to avoid taking a tone, but his fingers tightened around his fork and he sighed. “Sorry. I’ll try, but I need ya to know I make no promises, Momma.”

“Tryin is better than lettin it lie. Tryin will make me happy.” his mom stopped behind him and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, nodding to his plate. “Finish that sausage.”

“Yes ma’am.” Adam managed to chuckle and gave her a smile. Maybe if he let her think he intended to try, she’d back off him about it all. Somehow, he doubted it. He knew his mother too well. She hadn’t given up before now, she wasn’t going to give up just because he acted like he intended to try.

Adam stood and grabbed his plate, taking it to the sink. After grabbing his favorite jean jacket and a bottled water, he headed out the door, getting into his truck. And the entire half a minute  it took to get over to the Bar Low was mostly filled with him trying to figure out a way to keep his distance.

XXX

The door was being knocked on. Ivy raised a brow and eyed the hallway. “It’s only 9 am?”

“Mr. Page did say he’d swing by today. Must have slipped my mind to tell you.” Constance’s smirk was barely hidden and Ivy glared at her sister as Adam’s words from the night before and her own responses came rushing back to her.

The last thing she wanted or needed right now was him, skulking around here, that judgemental as hell look on his face. He didn’t understand and he wouldn’t. And as usual, he was too damn stubborn to even consider for a second that maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t willingly left with her mother back then.

“Well? Aren’t you gonna go answer the door?”

“Sure. Why not.” Ivy mumbled, her entire body tensing as she stood to go and do so. The door was being knocked on again and Ivy reached for the handle, bracing herself while also hoping to hell that it was the lesser stubborn of the Page males standing on the other side.

Naturally, luck was not on her side. Adam leaned in the door frame, eyeing her up. Ivy poked out her tongue and rolled her eyes, stepping aside so he could come in. “Shoulda known she was trickin me. C’mon.”

Her breath caught in her throat as he brushed against her in the space and Adam gave an abrupt cough, grumbling to himself under his breath. “Figured you’d be sleepin.”

“Yeah, well I’m not. Like I said. Got work to do today. And an interview for a teaching position in town.”

Adam eyed her, a brow raised and all Ivy did was shrug and turn to walk towards the stairs, stopping to turn back and glance at him. “What?”

“Ain’t that kind of… a contradiction? Given what you do at night?” Adam didn’t mean to say it, but just the way she was acting, everything they never got to say, the closure they never got and on top of it all, his bitching hangover were all combining to make him irritable.

Ivy’s eyes gave away that his words hit a nerve and he felt like an asshole. However, rather than apologize, Adam just shrugged.

“Don’t see how it’s anybody’s business.”

“Does your sister know? Your daddy?” Adam questioned, not even sure why he was pushing it, or why he even let it bother him so fucking bad beyond the overwhelming jealousy he felt the night before upon discovery and still felt now, hours after the fact. But he pushed.

Ivy glanced towards the dining room across the hall and then at Adam, biting her lip. “No, but it don’t mean I wouldn’t tell ‘em if I didn’t have to. Why? Gonna snitch on me, Mr. Page?”

Adam shook his head and shrugged again, offering up the most casual and non caring “It ain’t my problem or my place. Like you said… Your decisions are nothin to me, hon.” as he smirked and walked across the hall, into the dining room.

Constance eyed Adam and then glanced at her sister’s retreating back. As usual, both of them were going to be stubborn. Nevermind the fact that they were finally getting a chance and could finally at least get closure. Nevermind that any idiot could clearly see that… both of them still felt something.

She laughed to herself and shook her head, fixing her gaze on Adam again to address him. “Your daddy and that hand of his are already out in the north pasture. Ivy got half the fence real bright and early this mornin. Apparently, wherever she went last night put ‘er in a mood so she was out there before the sun was even up this mornin, workin on fixin the fence.”

Adam nodded and then asked quietly, “Any word on your dad?”

“He’s in recovery now. They’re sayin he has a few more days til he’s out, then they want him on rest for a while. And before you ask, Adam, no.. No, he ain’t the least bit happy about it.”

Adam chuckled and nodded. “Didn’t think he would be, I swear both him and my dad are gonna drop out in those fields. It’s all they know.”

“Hey Adam?” Constance stopped him as he started to walk out the door of their kitchen and onto the back porch.

“Yeah?”

“You do know there’s pride and then there’s foolish pride, right?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard it before. What are you referring to?”

Constance nodded her head towards the stairs and smirked. “You know good and well what I’m referring to, Adam. There’s more to everything that happened back then than you realize.. Maybe if you two talked.”

Adam chuckled, shrugging. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Don’t keep it in mind, do it ya stubborn lug.” Constance grinned as she turned back to the dish rack.

XXX

“Oh come on! You can go out there and take him food.”

“Nope, no. I can’t. Gotta go to town.” Constance insisted, shoving the basket of fried chicken towards her sister. Ivy bit her lip and eyed Constance, giving her a dirty look. “You know he’s got his mind all made up about me and why I left. Kinda like you guys did, apparently.”

“And I just think if you two talked then maybe…” Constance trailed off and Ivy took the basket begrudgingly, sitting it on the counter by the door to pull on a jacket. Constance smirked and popped her sister on the shoulder as if to encourage her. “Get out there. You can do it. All you have to do is take him food.”

“Yeah.” Ivy took a deep breath, giving an uncertain look towards the door. She could see him out in the barn, her dad’s old welding mask over his face, sparks flying from the welder. Apparently, he’d taken it upon himself to look at the second tractor and that lead to him trying to weld a brush guard back on properly.

Everyone else had already gone back to his father’s farm, Ivy honestly figured that given their run in the night before, he’d do the same. After all, Ivy found herself thinking as she stepped out into the chilly evening air, he’s made up his mind about everything, so why stick around if he knows he’ll have to deal with me?

It was a thought that had her baffled all the way out to the barn. She stood in the doorway, watching him and biting her lip. Apparently, he’d put down the welder and shed his shirt and now he had the hood raised on the tractor, and her dad’s old wrench set sitting on the worktable beside him. She gulped at the sight, the faint traces of grit and grime covering his hands and arms and chest.

Ivy cleared her throat and stepped in and Adam realized he wasn’t alone, raising his head too quick and promptly smacking it on the raised hood, swearing about it.

Ivy raised the basket. “I… It’s late and I thought you were probably hungry. Don’t worry, I didn’t make it.”

Adam wandered over, hand on top of his head, eyeing the basket and then her. “Pretty sure you didn’t, hon. Fire department didn’t get called down.”

“Oh fuck you, Adam. I burned grilled cheese one time.” she was laughing softly before she even realized it and so was he. But almost as quickly as they both laughed at the memory, they fell silent and backed away, because somehow, they’d migrated just a little closer. Ivy sighed and shook her head.

Adam took the basket and inhaled deep, sitting the basket down to take a piece of chicken out. Before he could even really get a thank you out, Ivy was gone, practically bolting for the house. Adam leaned back against the John Deere and let out a long sigh, shaking his head in frustration. He took a bite of the chicken and chased it with the beer also stuck down in the basket, wiping the sweat from his brow with his tee shirt before discarding it.

The sun was starting to go down. There wasn’t much else to do on the Bar Low today and he’d met his quota of running into Ivy at every turn.

… Now if only I could just get her out of my fuckin mind, that’d be great… the thought crossed his mind as he made his way around to the front of the house where he’d parked his truck in the driveway earlier. As he started the truck, he happened to look up at the second story window into her room.

Just in time to see her curtain swing closed.

#adam hangman page fanfiction #adam hangman page fanfic #adam hangman page imagine #adam hangman page imagines #part 3 of ? #// alcohol tw #// angst #// mentions of stripping

[thedesperatehousehusband]

The Super Bowel

So I had committed to blogging at least once a month and here it is February 8th and this is my first post of year. But, y’all, 2021 has been like a shot out of a cannon. Motherfuckers, January was SOMETHING.ELSE. But I’m not here to talk about that. I’m going to talk about the big deal of February.

THE SUPER BOWL. Or in this instance the Super Bowel (Movement).

The game was a turd. There’s nothing left to say about it. Tom Brady is such a douche nozzle. I cannot deal with him and his mouth kissing monkey business. I was so hoping Patrick Mahomes could pull it off. Because I love Patrick Mahomes. As well as Travis Kelce. He is delish.

Let’s talk pre-game musical stuff. H.E.R did a good job. Subdued until she tore it up on her guitar. I really like her (aka H.E.R.) Now I don’t want to call anyone’s baby ugly but that national anthem was not good. Eric Church and Jasmine Sullivan really lost their way. They lost the melody pretty early on and never got it back. And, let’s be real, it’s a really recognizable melody.

Shifting gears to the halftime show, oof. I give credit to the Weeknd for singing live. We can say that much. He sang live. Unfortunately he did not sing live well or good or even mediocre. Ooooof. I really like the Weeknd and think his songs are great but he is very clearly incredibly enhanced and autotuned. I said very quickly that JLo had nothing to worry about if she was concerned. Her show remains the best in years. And I will NEVER, EVER understand the controversy surrounding that show. People are lunatics.

OK. Let’s talk advertisements. One caveat. We quit watching the game in the 4th quarter because it was so awful so we missed some commercials. My gut tells me that there weren’t amazing spots at the 2:00 minute warning but if I omit your favorite that’s why. Here we go:

·       Old, the new M. Night Shyamalan movie. This looks quite interesting. And it will be available ONLY IN THEATERS so mask up, fuckers.

·       M&Ms. There was Dan Levy, there was mention of “Karen”, there was mansplaining. It was clever and I appreciated it for the cleverness. Who doesn’t like M&Ms?

·       Paramount+ Streaming. Snooki, Christine Baranski, Bryce DeChambeau, some level of animated programming, that judge from All Rise, Cedric the Entertainer, Star Trek: Discovery. Jesus. H. Christ. They crammed it all in there and then some. They promoted this shit FIVE times. They’re going to make this service happen or someone will be killed.

·       The Falcon & the Winter Soldier on Disney+. I’m here for it. I’m into it. Bring it on.

·       Doordash. Combing Sesame Street and Daveed Diggs is a wonderful idea. In my opinion, this was the best spot of the Super Bowl. An appropriate nod to the situation that most restaurants are facing with relevant tie ins to their actual business.

·       The Equalizer. Here comes the Queen. This got four promos. If this fails, someone will lose their job at CBS.

·       Doritos 3D. With Matthew McConaughey in 2D. It was pretty fun for about 10 seconds but it lasted much longer than that. Then it got weird. #flatmatthew. C’mon, part of looking at Matthew is seeing him in 3D.

·       GM Engines? I don’t know what it was truly for? Carbon neutral cars? Engines? That’s the sad thing. The good thing it was really funny. Will Ferrell. You just can’t go wrong. Then you throw in Kenan Thompson and Awkwafina and you basically have gold. But I still don’t know what the hell the spot was for.

·       Pringles and astronauts. I didn’t get it.

·       Bud Light. Legends and then also Post Malone. Silly.

·       Chipotle. For Real. So stupid and heavy handed. No one needs that kind of message from fast casual burritos.

·       Clarice. CBS wants this to happen but not as much as they want The Equalizer to happen. Who is the actress impersonating Jodie Foster?

·       Mountain Dew with John Cena. I don’t know what the flavor was. I don’t what the spot was about. I don’t care. Mountain Dew is diabetes in a bottle.

·       Which plays nicely into Dexcom. Now that’s how you use a celebrity. Nick Jonas is a Type 1 diabetic. He’s credible. He’s appropriately aspirational. Smart.

·       Indeed. This had something to do with jobs. Getting a job? Job postings? I don’t know. It was too much and I hated it.

·       State Farm. Oooh. This was funny. “Stand ins don’t talk”. That’s what Jake said to Drake. Paul Rudd as Patrick Mahomes? Yes, please. More of this. I love that Drake was even willing to do this. I suppose he got a million bucks. That’ll do it.

·       Bud Light Seltzer Lemonade. Lemon of the year. Making lemons with lemonade. Or lemonade seltzer. How can there be that many hard seltzers?

·       Scot’s Lawn Care. It was bad.

·       Skechers with Tony Romo. Enough said. Tony Romo, while looking real good, is just kind of grating.

·       WeatherTech. My goodness. This was intense. It was a Benetton ad for all-weather car mats. We get it. Diversity.

·       Rocket Mortgage. This was very close to my favorite. Both executions were very funny. You don’t want to be “pretty sure” about your mortgage. Tracy Morgan was the right person for this. It wasn’t smarmy at all. It could have been. It was just the right tone and the other actors were very funny.

·       Oatly. Wow, no cow. Wow, hot mess.

·       Toyota with Jessica Long. Now THAT’S how you do an Olympic spot. Love, love, love.

·       eTrade. You are NOT the best around despite the throwback soundtrack. Terrible.

·       Hellmann’s with Amy Schumer. This was very clever. Use up the stuff in your fridge by sprucing it up with mayo.

·       TurboTax. So awful.

·       Mercari. What is this? I still don’t know and I even Googled it. I’m unclear. I think it’s an online market of some kind. But for what? Angel dust? Pastries? Tires? It could be anything.

·       Tide. It’s dirtier than it looks but also with Jason Alexander. That tween doesn’t know who Jason Alexander is, does he? I dunno. It was fine.

·       Dr. Squatch. What the fuck is this brand or product?

·       Vroom.com. Why?

·       Jimmy John’s. Does Jimmy John’s have Super Bowl money and enough to pay for Brad Garrett? I guess they think they do.

·       T Mobile with Blake Shelton, Gwen Stefani and Adam Levine. This was likely a little meta and you have to understand the history to think it’s funny but I enjoyed it. There was also a LOT of mention of 5G or similar during this particular Super Bowl.

·       Because the next spot was AT&T Fiber with Frodo and a bunch of LOTR superfans. Meh.

·       Fiverr. What in the ever loving fuck?

·       Coming 2 America. Yaaaas. I’m here for this movie.

·       Cheeto’s with Shaggy, Mila Kunis and Ashton Kutcher. We get it. Cheeto’s make your fingers orange. I’m over it.

·       Squarespace. Working 5 to 9. I don’t get it. Were you working 9 to 5 and then a side hustle from 5 to 9. Areyou working 5:00 AM to 9:0 PM?

·       Cadillac Lyriq. I wanted to like this but it just got so stupid.

·       Anheuser-Busch. This was overwrought.

·       Jeep. But THIS was really overwrought. I’m in the minority on this one. I think lots of people were very moved by this. I thought it was too much and, dammit, if I’m going to watch Bruce for 60 seconds, he had best to sing.

·       Michelob Ultra Organic Seltzer. I can’t with all these fucking seltzers.

·       Klarna. What in the ever loving fuck is this product or service? I still don’t know.

·       Bass Pro Shop/Cabela’s. Calm down.

·       Robinhood. What is this company? What do they sell? Terrible.

·       Alexa as Michael B. Jordan. The joke ran out of steam. This would be better as a :30 as opposed to a :60.

·       Guaranteed Rate Mortgage. Believe you will or some shit? Whatever.

Hey, at least there was a Super Bowl. That’s the win. May Tom Brady get quinoa stuck in his colon and be unable to poop it out next year. That’s my fervent hope.

[benbarnesescape]

Blood, Sex and Whiskey - Part 1

Warnings: All the SMUT. Not even close to feeling sorry about it

A/N: I caved in. I had to. I can’t with Ben promos. He does play this great villain that you can write fan fiction into beautifully so that’s exactly what I did. This is going to be in three parts, each coming out randomly leading up to the premier of The Punisher.

We need something to get us through this heat wave lol.

Please note I’m writing this based off my knowledge of the comics I’ve read, a little of the 00s movie and what I HYPOTHESIZE (note the emphasis) of where Netflix could take it based on the very little information shared ha ha

Tags: To these two special gals who urged me to get this out @iheartbinbons @binbonsadoration

Neon lights blinked against the dark haze of the night, twinkling against the backdrop of the city. You stood against the brick wall, a distant shadow in the night, as you took another drag of your cigarette, letting the toxic chemicals fill your lungs before expelling them into the night air.

They were late. For the past month you had been monitoring The Russo Boys, a group of men that were for hire throughout the ganglands of New York. Their leader, Billy Russo, otherwise known as the ‘Beaut’ was your primary target. You had spent months monitoring him, learning his brain. While the Russo Boys were dangerous, they were puppets in contrast to the lethal mastermind in their leader. He was ruthless, military trained, cold. Dangerous and borderline psychotic.

Also a key piece in getting to Costa, the first gang leader that was key to unlocking taking down this dark underworld.

You checked your watch before gripping your black leather jacket tighter to you, trying to fend off the cool autumn air as your ranking officer, Commander Jenkins, reported in your ear.

"Lady Viper report."

"They're late."

Silence. Then,

"Keep us posted when they arrive."

"Yes-" you stop, watching carefully as a large black sedan rolls up to the bar. Three men fall out, laughter ringing in the air, half empty bottles of alcohol gripped tightly in their hands. The distiller mingling with their menace.

You wait a beat before the tall stature of a man steps out of the passenger seat. A dark grey tux with a navy blue tie, leather shoes, an edgy haircut. The pretty boy in Billy Russo made him a namesake in the underworld. He was handsome. Could charm his way out of anything. His dark eyes flitted across the street, surveying his surroundings. Quickly passing over your spot in the shadows, your lit cigarette discreetly hidden from his line of sight. It was those eyes, dark and predatory, that made him dangerous.

"They’re here sir."

"Good. We have to figure out who the gangland is going to target next. From our previous contact, sounded like someone important. We can’t afford to not find out who that is.”

"Got it sir. Immerse and extract."

You take one last drag of the cigarette before stomping it out on the gravely sidewalk.

"Oh and agent." You cross the street, looking both ways as your hair beats against your face. “Be careful"

You walked into the muggy bar, ignoring the stale smell of beer and cigarettes. Ignored the way the room stops for a minute, taking you in as you make the short walk to the bar.

You were too overdressed for this bar. Hell, you were too overdressed for this neighborhood. Your designer black dress hugged over your curves, stopping short mid-thigh as it peeled against your skin. You opted for ankle boots, the black leather glistening in the tinted light. You wore your hair down, to guise the earpiece you had in your ear, and the thick curls fell down your back.

You were dressed for attention. Dressed to get a specific person’s attention.

You leaned over the bar, smiling as the large man who owned the small establishment smiled at you, giving you a brief hug before whispering in your ear. Retired navy, Louie Vertimillo was one of the best undercovers there was out there. He worked stings and had been with you on this case for about a year.

He had taught you everything you knew and then some.

“They got this place wired down. I’d take that earpiece out if I were you. Billy’s meeting with a top gun in the back and there paranoid.” His voice is low as he squeezes you and laugh, squealing as you give him a hug.

“It’s great to see you too Uncle Louie!” you say squeezing his shoulder in response.

You pull back before hearing Jenkins say in your ear,

“Understood – we’ll have agent’s monitoring the establishment if things go south. Alpha team out.”

You whipped your hair, tugging on the small black piece before letting it fall to the floor, strategically stepping on the technology before skirting it away with your foot to blend in with the other collected dirty from the bar, comfortably finding a seat on your bar stool.

“The usual?” he asks and you nod, rolling up the sleeves of your jacket.

“Of course. Can you put on the game? The cable is out at my place.”

He nods as he pours vodka into the small glass, pouring a bit of olive juice before handing it over to you. He lazily makes his way to the remote, switching the station from the dull 90s sitcom to a baseball match and you stare back, trying to be invested.

In actuality, you were surveying the territory. There were five goons spread across the bar that were apart of Billy’s crew. Ten more scattered periodically throughout the small bar but you couldn’t gauge who they worked for. Someone rich. Outfitted in dark, military attire, they popped out amongst the other patrons of the bar.

It’s less than ten minutes that you hear laughter, the low mumble of voices peeping out a room in the back of the bar. Out of your line of site and too far to hear effectively.

“Then you’ll get it done. Within the week.” The older voice breaks through the sound of the bar as a door squeals open, the light patter of footsteps following. You perk up, groaning as the game switches to a new inning to cover up hearing the new voice better.  

“Consider it done sir.”

That sultry voice is distinct and clear. Billy Russo.

He appears minutes later, turning the corner walking beside an older man with wavy grey hair that matched piercing grey eyes. There were four additional men flanking them as they walked to the entrance of the bar, talking in low murmured voices.

“I need him out of the picture. We can’t proceed with our plans if he’s in the way.”

Billy smirks, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated motion before they land on you as you casually throw your hair over your shoulder, temporarily making eye contact. He quirks an eyebrow as he stuffs his hands in his pocket before returning his eyes to Frank Costa chuckles, putting on black gloves as he shakes his head.  

“Frank, have I ever steered you wrong. We will get all of this handled for you by the deadline.”

The older man looks at him, before heaving a large sigh and turning to one of his men to hand him his jacket.

“You better. This is one thing you cannot mess up.”

You had been listening so intently that you had missed one of Billy’s henchmen slink up to you, taking a seat beside you before saying,

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a bar like this?”

You roll your eyes as you take a long sip of your martini before saying,

“Watching the game, trying to ignore dumb assholes like you from interrupting my peaceful time.”

You try to hold back a disgusted sigh as he scoots closer, his sour breath hitting your nostrils.

“You don’t look the type to watch baseball,” his eyes snake up your body as he tries to throw an arm over your shoulder. “And you sure as hell don’t look like you belong here.”

You shrug his heavy, dead arm off of you, throwing him an annoyed look.

“Grew up in this neighborhood my whole life. Watching baseball and dealing with dumb as nail assholes like you is a specialty of mine.”

He gives you a nasty grin, the wrinkles in his younger face biting into his eyes. He was probably only in his early twenties but the reality of his world, violence at a young age mingled with drugs and alcohol had stolen his youthful looks, already aging his tight skin.

He probably wouldn’t make it to see thirty.

“I’d love to see that honey.” He scoots closer to you and you grip your martini glass tighter, debating the quickest way to dispatch of him and the three other thugs hovering by.

“Stand down Johnny boy.” The smooth voice cuts through the air and you both turn, watching as Billy slowly walks over, the other guests long gone from the establishment.

“But boss…”  Johnny whines as Billy strolls between you two, looking over at the young henchman with a quirked eyebrow.

“Do I need to take you out back and teach you some manners? She said she wasn’t interested so step down.”

You watch as the lanky, tall man slithers away before returning your eyes to Billy who was watching you with curious eyes.

“What’s a dame like you doing in a place like this?”

It’s not a smooth pick up line, far from it in fact, but it serves a purpose. Figure out whether you’re worth going after or continue hunting for new prey. You smile, taking a sip of your drink as you glance up at the TV.

“Like I told your rude friend, I’m enjoying a drink while watching the game.”

He watches you, snapping his fingers at Louie who appears quickly, cleaning a glass as he asks.

“You want your usual Billy?”

“Yea. And another – dirty martini is it – for the lady,” Billy says it slowly as his eyes drinks up your body as he asks you, “I guess I should be more specific. What’s a pretty thing like you doing on this side of town? I’m with Johnny boy on this one – a woman like you don’t belong in a place like this.”

You smirk before looking at Louie who’s mixing your drink with mild amusement on his face.

“He’s my uncle. Try to see him once a week. Missed him this week at Sunday dinner so I figured I could drop by for a drink, watch the game and then head back to my hotel. Got a problem with that…?”

“Billy,” he fills in, watches you with a mixture of interest and distrust, before he looks over at Louie.

“This one of your Boston nieces Louie? Going to school for law or something like that.”

Louie smiles as he places both drinks in front of you, giving a nod.

“Medical school. Yea. This is Y/N. She’s in town visiting her family during her autumn break and I invited her to the bar.”

The story is false, something that Louise had planting in the Russo’s gang ears for a year. The first seed to sprout.

“A smart lady in a not so smart neighborhood. Who would’ve figured?” He takes a sip of the golden drink in his glass as he sits beside you. His cologne wafts off of him and you close your eyes, trying to align your thinking and refocus.

From a distance he was attractive. You knew that. But up close he was more so. A shadowed beard that peppered over a chiseled jawline. Dark, chocolate eyes that greedily took in your body as his dark voice sent shivers up your spine. The problem was, Billy Russo was exactly the kind of bad boy you would get yourself tangled with for months outside of work.

You always were a sucker for a bad boy.

“You more a Yankees fan or are you into the cubs?”

You open your eyes, shooting him a flirty side eye before taking a sip.

“I’m a Brooklyn girl. Of course I’m rooting for the Yankees.”

He smiles taking another sip of his drink as he asks,

“Of course you are. That accent and attitude. Wouldn’t expect anything else,” another sip. “Tell me more about yourself.”

You snort, looking up at the TV to continue to watch the game.

“Let’s both drop the bullshit and be honest with each other,” you lean into him, your hair brushing against his shoulder. “You don’t care about why I’m a doctor, why I like the Yankees or how I know Louie. You walked over here because you had one goal in mind. I know because it’s the same goal I had when you walked into the room.”

He throws back his drink, placing it on the bar before leaning closer to you, your breath intermingling with the other.

“And what would that be sweetheart?”

You smirked, finishing your second glass before placing your hand on his knee.

“That you want to take me to the bathroom and fuck me senseless.”

His hand moves to your exposed thigh, moving slowly up the exposed skin and you part your legs slightly, allowing him access to that spot that was already pooling with wetness.

“Then what are we still doing here?”

This was wrong. Not because you were using sex to get information, because you wanted to use sex to get your way. You felt dirty as you slammed into the abandoned bathroom toward the back of the bar. Dirty to be lip locked with someone like him, a ruthless killer and murderer, someone who had no disregard for human life. When he pushed you against the bathroom stall door, looking at you with that predatory craving as he stripped out of his suit jacket, for a second you almost forgot. Because even knowing that he was cold blooded killer, he was also exactly the kind of cocktail of a man that you would allow to put you in this situation.

He walked toward you, his hand firmly gripping your hips as he bent down to kiss you, his tongue clashing against your own. Your hands got lost in his hair, drawing him closer to you as he deepened the kiss, a low growl emitting from his throat.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in a long time sweetheart.” His mouth trails down your neck and you give a low groan, throwing your head back against the cold steel door.

“Diamonds normally don’t make it out of this town without being branded,” he bites down on your neck causing you to yelp and he smiles, laving at the tender area. “I want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

His voice is dark and malicious and if it wasn’t for the softness of the words you’d be afraid. Instead you smile as you roll your head back to look up at him, a confident smirk plastered on your face.

“Who says I’m up for belonging to you or anyone else for that matter?”

He chuckles, his right arm trailing back up your body and pulling on the straps of your dress, making them snap against your skin.

“Most girls would die to belong to someone. Especially someone like  me.”

You snort, your hands nimbly unbuttoning his shirt.

“Most girls waste their time trying to convince men like you that they want to be your servant. I’m not a girl I’m a woman. And all I want,” your hands trails down to his pants, brushing past his erection causing him to give an involuntary groan. “Is to have you singing my name by the end of the night.”

It’s aggressive and for a second you’re afraid it’s too much. However Billy groans, biting down on his lips as his fingers bit deeper into your flesh.

“Hmmm sweetheart where were you before I shackled down for my piss for brains wife?”

You laugh, squeezing his hard erection, your lips brushing against his own.

“Busy fucking someone else who could care less about you or your dumb wife.”

Billy growls, his lips seizing yours again as you make busy work of his belt, easily pushing it aside to unbutton the soft fabric. When your hand finds the bands of his brief and brush against his naval he groans into the kiss, pulling away to watch you slide the material down, your eyes never breaking his as you move down to your knees. He watches you in lust as his erection bobs free, the thick muscle standing at attention and you eye it greedily.

“You want to continue to bore me with your story of your life or would you like me to take care of this?”

The dark chuckle that escapes him sends a shiver up your spine as he leans forward, teasing his penis around your mouth.

“Continue to sass me and I’ll make sure you never get the chance to get bored,” he grabs a handful of your hair as you lick your lips hungrily. “Or I could just deprive you of the thing you want the most. You seem like a greedy little slut.”

He pulls away and you mewl, biting your lips before looking up at him.

“It’s not fair to tease.”

He throws his head back, laughing and you can’t help but to admire him for a second, take in his dark beauty. Then he’s looking back at you, his pupils blown black as his hips thrust folder.

“Then show me that it’s been worth my time.”

You eagerly oblige, grabbing the back of one of his thighs and bringing him closer to you, encasing your mouth around his hard erection. He moans as you take him in slowly, the muscles in your jaw expanding as he fills you. You’re not ashamed at the way spit spews around you, trailing down your chin as your tongue runs down the thick vein throbbing in your throat. He throws his head back, his mouth a large shaped O as you begin bobbing your head back and forth slowly. Lost in the way your red lipstick is staining against his skin as he bottoms out into you slowly, can’t pay attention to the way you dig in his pocket, looking for anything that could help you find out what his meeting with Frank.

While you were always down for a good lay, you also had a job to fulfill.

You find your treasure in the form of a paper and grab onto it, pulling it back and stuffing it into your leather jacket that’s beside you, your eyes watching his carefully.

He looks down at you seconds later, his hooded watching you carefully as he murmurs,

“Sweetheart you should be in a fucking art museum you look so damn good wrapped around my cock.”

You moan and he throws his head back in another pleasurable groan, his hands raking through your hair as you speed up around him before he slams into you, causing you to gag before pulling away.

“You aren’t going to get me to cum before I can get a taste of that pretty little pussy.”

He grabs your arms, pulling you up before his mouth finds yours, his tongue hungrily devouring you. He groans at his taste as his hands lift your dress up around your stomach, before lifting you.

You squeal as he pulls at your underwear, yanking them down before looking up at you in desire.

“There’s something about you,” his erection teases at your entrance and you groan, rolling your head back. “That can drive a man insane.”

He watches you slowly as he enters you, and your nails bite into his shoulders as you throw your head back.

“Fuck….” You whisper as he bottoms out into you and you look back down at him, your hair hooding your eyes.

This was dangerous. You were both attracted to each other, sure, but there was something else. You wanted to know more about him. More beyond his file of growing up in a domestic home, getting involved with gangs at a young age that ultimately made him the bloodhound of the underground gang syndicate.

Wanted to know him.

You were either getting to close or had to take a vacation and invest in a boyfriend.

His hips snap into you and you scream, loud and unashamedly as his hands dig into your flesh, watching you.

“Come back to me sweetheart. You’re about to miss the best part.”

You smile, leaning down to kiss him as he slowly drives into you, your walls tightening around his growing erection, filling you. Hitting all those places that have you moaning out his name in reverence, your hands tangled in his hair as he pumps into you faster, controlled as he watches you. Then he’s lifting your leg and hitting that spot that has you throwing your head back, your back arching as your hips swivel against him and he smiles, watching the way you try to ride against him.

“There’s a girl. That’s right sweetheart, I know you’re close.”

His hand flits down to your clit and you’re done, your eyes shielded by a white pleasure as you crumble around him. He chases after his orgasm just as quickly, your limp body falling on him as he comes into you, screaming out your name before his head falls into the crevice of your check exhausted.

You stay there for what feel like seconds before you pull away slowly, untangling yourself from him and he steps back, pulling up his pants as you straighten your dress pulling up your underwear. You grab a paper towel and clean yourself before trying to fix your hair, running your hands through the curly strands.

You throw on your leather jacket, digging in your pocket to ensure the paper is still in its place. You smile as you brush against it, before pulling out your vial of lipstick and running it over your lips.

He’s watching you as he finishes buttoning up his shirt, leaning down to throw on his jacket before walking behind you.

“How long are you in town?”

His voice is different than before. It’s still dark and commanding but there a softness to the normal edge.

Swish, slam, dunk. You had gotten your claws into him.

“Another two weeks. Then classes start up again.”

You turn around, leaning back against the sink as you look up at him.

“Why? Want to make me your girlfriend?”

He chuckles, placing his hands on either side of you as he leans down into you.

“You’d be my mistress. After all, I am a married man,” he lifts his left hand and you roll your eyes. “Anyway, I’d like to see you. It’s nice to be in company with someone who holds more intelligence than a bag of potatoes. So how about it? Wanna join me for a nice dinner?”

His face is inches away and you inhale his scent again, now mingled with yours before you whisper,

“Sounds perfect. You can ask Louie for my number,” you brush past him and he smirks, lowering his head before turning toward you. “I’m the kind of woman you have to chase to prove your loyalty.”

He laughs as you push out of the bar, watching in mild amusement the patrons who follow you across the bar. You give a slot nod to Louie who is watching you with an amused smirk on his face, shaking his head.

“I’ll see you later Uncle Louie. Oh and Billy might ask for something of mine – feel free to share.”

Your voice resonates in the large space before men are catcalling and whistling and you roll your eyes as you walk out the door, the dark night embracing you as you begin walking down the street. You wait until five blocks until a dark sedan pulls beside you and you snake in, dipping into the leather seat as you seat beside Jenkins.

“So?” he asks and you sigh, shaking your head as you pull out the paper.

Billy Russo was also known to write down the names of his predatory on idle paper. Never discards it without killing them. He’s also been known to misplace it, a messy flaw on his end but by the time it’s realized the target is usually dead.

This paper was no different.

You scan through the paper, reading through the scribbled note before your breathe sticks in your throat and you look up urgently at Jenkins.

“We got to shift our recon. His next target is Frank Castle.”

Part 2

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #ben barnes #the punisher

[pinktatertots99]

an artist, through and through

ok I'm gonna write something that's actually good (HAH yeah right) and to do that, I'm writing about a ship that, oddly enough doesn't get a lot of attention.

story takes place years after nanba. nico and rock are around their late 20's in this. (26/27 and 29.)

warning for swearing (obviously) and a suggestive/slightly nsfw scene later. note: the lines that come in the middle are to symbolize a scene taking place shortly after the first scene. (kinda similar to how the series and many other animes do.) and the one in the middle is to symbolize that the next part takes place on another day. (hopefully this makes sense lol sorry if it doesn't).

(name of the fic is a lyric to a ken ashcorp song. guess what it is~)

the scratching of a pen filled the mostly quiet room as nico sketched on the piece of paper on his desk. said desk was scattered with finished colored pages, other blank drawing pages for later, pencils, pens, a corkboard with pictures and sticky notes and a lamp that was located above the piece of paper he had.

despite being completely concentrated with the piece, his ears perked at the sudden sound of keys jingling from the other side of the door. he continued to stay focused though as he heard the door unlock and slowly crack open, and then fully open, the door silently, or as silently as it could be closing, and light tiptoeing of work boots on the floor.

"I can hear you." he said. the boots stopped instantly. "sorry. didn't know if you were busy inking or somethin'." rock replied, heavy footsteps moving to the back of nico's chair, strong and hairy arms coming down on him and slowly encircling him.

he stopped the strokes he was doing to put his hands on said arms. "so, this the new chapter?"

"yep! I'm halfway there!" he announced throwing a fist in the air.

"so you gonna let me take a peek?" rock asked tilting his head to see the page. nico huffed his cheeks out. "no! that'd be spoilers! and I'm NOT gonna let you see till it's done!"

"aw c'mon. just a little peak?" he teased. nico threw his hands in the air to his face, trying to keep him from looking any closer. "AAAAAUUUUUGH NOOOOOO!"

_____

"by the way, I gotta go to a store. can you come with me?"

"sure."

at that nico went to take out a pair of sweat pants, a hoodie, sunglasses, gloves, and a medical mask. why didn't he ask him after he got in his disguise? he thought to himself.

after nico prepared himself the two were off. all of this was so weird to rock as they walked. he knew nico's fixation on manga and anime and comics would leave him inspired to make something, but he along with the rest of the guys never thought that it would lead to him actually succeeding in it.

once he mailed his manga idea all of them were ready for him to be denied and comfort him. it left them surprised when he got the memo back that the company liked his idea and wanted him to make it, which he got around the time they all left prison.

after that the two were able to get their own apartment together and rock got into working in construction, just to make a little extra for food and bills. that and boredom strikes fast when your not escaping from prison or fighting anyone.

the change though to only him and nico being together was still something he was getting used to, even if it's already been a while since they left prison. they were still able to keep in contact with everyone but it was a little hard getting used to not having two extra roommates to come back to. one advantage though was that now the two didn't have to worry about any...accidental walk ins from anybody. they still had to keep quiet due to neighbors but it was manageable.

his sudden trip down memory lane stopped once he saw nico had stopped. the otaku then took two steps forward and pointed in n overly dramatic anime pose. "THERE IT IS!" he announced. rock looked to see he was pointing at a clothing store.

he was a bit disappointed cause he thought they were gonna go to the grocery store or something. he had run out of purple dye a while ago and had been meaning to get some more but forgot. now his hair was mostly red with the purple on the tips of his hair, taking a bit of a darker shade. but oh well he suppose he'll have to go himself sometime. cause he sure as hell wasn't gonna wait another week to go back and get it. though it was odd that nico wanted to go here specifically. but rock had a feeling he knew why he wanted to come here.

the two entered the shop with nico seeming to already know exactly what he wanted, as he dragged rock to one of the clothes racks and then to the dressing rooms, holding an outfit.

"I need you to wear this." he said, and held out a-...oh no. a school girls uniform. it was the typical white short sleeved blouse with red bow n the middle and blue skirt. it seemed to have been a costume though, given that it was all connected. he sighed.

"uh, yeah, I can't wear that." nico pouted angrily at him. ho boy, here they go.

"but what about that time hitoshi-san made us all dresses-"

"it's not a skirt thing I just- it won't fit."

"poppycock." and with that nico opened one of the open dressing rooms and walked in. after a bit he came out, wearing the dress. rock could feel his face get hot.

"see. if it can fit me than it can fit you too!" he stated.

"that's kinda the opposite of what you meant."

suddenly the two heard snickering and looked over to see a small group of boys snickering and playfully whistling at nico, and saying stuff that rock couldn't understand but he sure as hell had a feeling of beating them up now. though he halted it once he saw nico giggling at them and posing at them.

"heehee they like it."

"uh nico. I don't think their serious about all that."

"hm? well too bad for them cause I'm gonna take these as genuine compliments."

"n-ni-ko-sensei?!"

the two looked over to see two highschool girls looking at nico in disbelief. they must've been fans considering they knew nico somehow and, looking closely, rock could see one of them holding one of nico's manga series chapters.

the three then started talking, with nico talking in perfect Japanese. it wasn't much of a surprise though, not only did he consume a lot of anime and manga but he also ended up gaining a disease where if he hears a certain language, he can speak it fluently. he didn't catch onto much of what they were talking about, Japanese being his weakest in understanding beside a couple of phrases and words but that was about it. all he could get out of it was the two were talking about his manga being great and all that.

incidents like this didn't happen a lot shockingly enough. nico tried hard to keep from anyone seeing him and disguising himself. but something would come up and it'd end with him undisguised and getting noticed by fans. not all their interactions were bad most of the time, despite wasting time. some were nice, some were weird, and some were just...ugh.

if they were ever together when those type of fans came around rock was instantly there close to nico. though he has heard that the times he wasn't around nico had to bear with those types though it usually ended with him saying he was very busy and couldn't stay. he did though buy a pepper spray JUST incase, so rock was fine with it.

he didn't even notice the girls had left already and nico had come back from the dressing room in his disguise again, with the outfit in tow.

"okay! we can go." he said. he paid for the outfit and the two left.

===

after they got back, nico undressed himself from his disguise...and then undressed himself suddenly from his actual outfit, causing rock to jump at the suddenness of it. thank god their place was on a higher level and they didn't have to worry about strangers walking by the window and seeing.

the smaller male then grabbed the bag from rock's grip and pulled out the dress and started dressing himself up in it. "could you get my camera?" he asked. rock obliged and went over to the desk and opened the top drawer on the right, pulling out a large camera.

turning around he saw nico had already put on the school shoes and white stockings that matched the outfit and was currently ripping the small bag with hair accessories that also came with it. after nico put whatever accessories he wanted in his hair, which was a red scrunchie and two hair clips he went over to rock and started pulling him to a part of the room and commanding him to be in a specific position.

"ok!" he said as he walked away and got into a running position. "make sure you take a couple okay?"

"ok."

"and try not to let your big fingers get on the lens."

"got I-wait hey!" nico giggled at his reaction. turning on the camera and putting his finger lightly on the button, he was ready. "ready?" "yep!"

they took a couple pictures before nico told him to stop and went to look at them. he smiled "THESE ARE GREAT!" and with that he took the camera and went back to his study, quickly getting to work on his next page.

"neh rock." rock raised his gaze from the magazine he was reading and looked to see nico, looking a bit...nervous? he was blushing, his gaze was going anywhere but him, and his smile was weak. he wanted him to do something for him he thought. this was always how nico reacted when he needed something.

"yeah?" he asked. nico's face got redder as he rubbed a finger on his cheek, mumbling. "uh...um...could you uhm, c-could you maybe, uhm..." he then pulled one of his arms from behind his back and both his hands grabbed what it was in his grasp and pushed it to him. "c-could you uh...wear...this?" he asked.

rock took it and feeling it it was an outfit. he turned it over to see a red bow tie on a white short sleeved shirt. coupled witht the shirt was a matching blue skirt. oh god he thought. not again.

"nico I said I can't wear-"

"I-I know but, I got you one in a size that'll fit you." he smiled. "it was actually the biggest size!"

"that's...nice." rock muttered, not exactly thrilled at that statement. "is this for a reference? why not just wear your outfit and I take the pictures like last time?"

"I...forgot." rock squinted at nico suspiciously.

nico clasped his hands together. "please. please. pleeeeaaaaaase. it's only a couple of photos I promise!"

rock sighed in defeat at nico's begging. if it was only a couple of photos then fine he guessed. though, he was gonna close the window just to be careful. "alright." he agreed. nico cheered in victory as he turned around. "ok. get dressed. I'm not peaking."

"you DO know you've seen me undressed before right?"

"I wanna be surprised!"

---

this was so awkward rock thought as he stood fully in the outfit. he knew regardless if it was the largest size it wouldn't exactly fit well. the top looked more like a tank almost crop top that showed his abs, the sleeves were a bit tight around the shoulders, but the skirt wasn't that bad but he naturally pulled it down a bit, not used to it. the shutter sound of a camera went off as he did that and he looked back to see nico.

"that was a nice one! very natural." he said.

"yeah yeah very funny. so, what'dya want me to do?"

nico then quickly pointed to their bed. "get on the bed." rock looked over at it, back at nico and back at it again. "heh, you sure this is for a reference? or was that an excuse for something else?" he teased. nico flushed and stuck his tongue out. "nyeh."

the hefty male decided to go along with the artist's demand and went to lay down on it. "ok, now put your hands behind your head, curve your leg up a bit, and try to look relax." the otaku ordered. rock complied. "lower the leg a little. little more. aaaaaaand there! perfect!"

rock could hear him getting the camera ready. "try to relax a bit."

"I am."

"your faking it. c'mon just pretend I'm not taking a picture of you in a school girls uniform."

"that doesn't help."

"just relax. like you usually do." at that rock took a deep breath in and out slowly, relaxing. the camera shutters went off multiple times till he hard them stop and the pitter patter of feet walk towards him. "that all?" he asked.

"not yet. I need close ups now." nico said. he then caught rock by surprise as he moved ontop of him, straddling him a bit. "wh-what are you-" "just relax. just keep the relaxed look and look as if your looking up at the ceiling." rock calmed himself again and did just that. after a few pictures nico told him to side eye the left side, and then after that the right.

"could you...lean up a bit?" nico asked. rock leaned up a bit on his elbows. he got a closer look at nico's face. he could see the deep blush on his cheeks and the look of lust and he swore hearts in his eye. he looked so cute. the burly man ended up turning his head to the side blushing a shade of pink, and the shutters went off again.

"that's...that's a good one." nico muttered. rock just chuckled silently. "y-yeah...very funny." he muttered as nico leaned over to the nightstand next to their bed. "so...is that it?" "just one more thing." he hummed, putting the camera down on the table and moving back. before rock could ask what he needed to do, his mouth was suddenly captured by nico's, kissing him.

the sudden kiss caused him to fall back on the bed as nico started to lick his mouth, wanting entrance. rock complied and the two's tongues started wrestling. he had a feeling his eyes weren't playing tricks on him earlier when he thought he saw...something in nico's shorts. the two made out heatedly, with nico's hands suddenly moving under his shirt and gripping his chest, twisting his nipples.

that was enough for him to sit up and quickly push nico down, kissing and touching him roughly. in the past he's tried to refrain such animalistic instincts when it came to nico pushing those right buttons. but after finding that he started to purposefully push them and infact liked when he got a bit crazy he refrained the inner animal less.

after a while they broke off, panting with a saliva trail following. "so," rock panted, wiping the saliva. "I guess...that need for a reference...wasn't the only reason you wanted me to do this right?"

"h..hah, yeah." nico replied. "but...this wasn't..the only reason I wanted you to do this." rock raised a brow at that. "actually, the other reason I wanted you to pose was because...well, you taking pictures of me posing...weren't that great."

that comment immediately caused rock's mood drop dramatically. "I mean," nico continued. "they weren't BAD but, y'know. they weren't great. but they DID work as a good reference. from what I was able to work with." he muttered the last sentence but rock heard it clear as day. he quickly got off of nico and walked in the direction to the bathroom.

"wha-wait rock! where you going?!"

"getting changed."

"what?! but-but I- but we haven't- ROCK COME BACK! ROOOOOOOOOCK!"

that night the poor fool of an otaku had to unreplenish his sexual desires by fapping to the reference pictures he took earlier. and then proceeded to sleep in his soft and squishy bean bag and blanket, considering that he was also kicked out of bed that night.

#nanbaka #fanfiction #rock x nico #nico x rock #6925 #2569 #rock/nico #nico/rock #writing #the pink one speaks #i made this

[wouldyoulikeasidewiththat]

Crush

Virgil getting help from the others to figure out, and come to terms with, his giant ass crush on Roman. Patton saves the day. 

Prinxiety, little bits of Logicality. Lots and lots of platonic bonding. Roman literally isn’t even in this, its basically just Patton, Logan, and Thomas helping Virgil through his Stuff.

“VIRGIL!”

Oh, dear God, the puppy had arrived. Virgil was laying down, reading, trying to unwind for once, but now he was shouting and falling off the bed.

“Patton! What th-” Virgil stopped, taking a shaky breath. “We talked about this. What do you not do to the embodiment of anxiety?”

“… Make you more anxious by sneaking up on you?”

“Exactly. Is something wrong? Why are you- what’s up?” Virgil sat up, sighing. He didn’t bother to get off the floor, though Patton invited himself to sit on the bed. He could never really stay mad at that one.

“I wanted to talk to you! Listen, we’re friends, right?” Patton asked, eyes and smile wide and open. Virgil resisted the impulse to shrug. Normally, he’d not be sure, but Patton was … Reassuring.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Patton clapped, reaching to pat Virgil’s head but he dodged it, looking up in warning. Patton didn’t push it, thankfully. The sides didn’t always get personal boundaries, but at least Patton got basic empathy.

“So! We can gossip like friends! For example, I stole Logan’s glasses!”

There was a long moment of quiet, before Virgil had to cover a snort with his hand. “Uh, why?”

“Oh! He’s been staying up all night reading, you know him, but he hasn’t been sleeping as much as he should! He’s been keeping Thomas up. He thinks the more logical train of thought is to study now, catch up on sleep later. So, now he can’t read all night!”

“Patton … while I do appreciate the, uh, sentiment. I think maybe you should give him back his, you know, general eyesight. He could fall, or like, something.” Virgil scolded, trying still to reign in his own amusement. He didn’t mention he’d already known, feeling, and unintentionally fueling, the general anxiety Thomas had been holding about increasing his own book intelligence, without actual classes to keep him on the ball.

Patton pouted for a moment, but then nodded, a slow smile coming over his face. “That sounded a little … Concerned.”

Virgil looked up again, confused. “Patton, that’s kind of my whole thing.”

“Pshh, yeah, but you can’t deny it! You’re starting to like us all more.” Patton said, a little too loud.

Virgil raised an eyebrow, scoffed. But Patton was right, he couldn’t deny it. Patton just squealed in delight when Virgil didn’t argue.

“So, you’re just here to gossip about the other two?”

“Um, of course not. I’m also here to gossip about you! But you know, in a nice way!”

Vigil felt something get tight in his chest, and he stood, finally. “Do you … Do that a lot?”

“Gossip about you?” Patton asked, before it clicked, and he gasped,  jumping up as well. “No, nonono! Oh, goodness. Don’t worry, I’m just using this as an excuse to hang out! And also maybe ask you about your crush! Crush! What a weird drink, right? Pretty great! Am I talking too much again?” And, surely, dark rings began under Patton’s eyes. It always too him a bit longer than the others.

“My wh-?”

“PATTON?!” Logan’s voice echoed, calling from his own room in Thomas’ mind, the way it did when they’d call each other out for a video. Patton winked, grabbing the extra glasses from where they were in his collar, and popped out.

Virgil, alone, finally sat back on his bed.

Crush?

Patton stopped back in later in the night, but only to sent Virgil to bed.

“You know, now I’m just going to toss and turn all night wondering what you’re talking about.”

“You’ll do that anyway, kiddo, but at least this topic isn’t all gloom and doom. It might be good to think about it, even!”

Didn’t Patton know? It wasn’t good to think about anything at night.

It was about 4AM when Virgil bolted upright in bed. “Oh, oh no. No. Not- no.” He didn’t pull back on his jacket, which he’d shrugged off before bed, he just popped over to Patton’s room.

It was dark, the other side sleeping, but a nightlight glowed from the corner. Even with so little light, Virgil could make out just how comfortable, the room seemed. It felt warm. He felt strangely, firmly, at ease. He even felt a bit …  giddy?

Gross.

He didn’t bother waking the moral side, knowing then exactly how the conversation would go, and knowing the persuading comfort of the room could cause some bad conclusions. He popped into Logan’s room instead.

Logan sat, awake, on a stiff looking cot. He barely jolted when Virgil showed up, but he did suck in a breath and press a hand to his chest. “Why does nobody in this head know the basic concept of knocking?”

“You would’ve pretended to be asleep.” Virgil pointed out, knowing Logan the best out of the other sides. They got along decently well, surprisingly. Turns out you can reason yourself into the worst of conclusions pretty easily.

“ … Fair point. What do you need, Virgil?”

“Apparently Heartboy thinks I have  an, er, crush.”

Logan paused, a slight smile coming over his face, and he sat up to look at Virgil more fully. Did he still have his shoes on? Wow.

“Normally, I’d suggest his sentimental spirit to be getting the best of him, and this to be a figment of his imagination,”

“But?”

“You’d not be here if it weren’t true.”

Virgil swallowed, rolling his eyes, trying to muster indignanty. “Chill it, Sherlock, maybe I’m just trying to figure out the logic behind Patton’s crap.”

“Maybe, but you would be able to wait until morning, wouldn’t you?”

And with that, Virgil plopped down to sit on the floor, resting his head in his hands.

“Shut up.”

“So, obviously it’s not me,” Logan began, and Virgil’s head whipped up, giving a warning look. “And it’s not Patton,”

“I really, really don’t need your help with this par-”

“So that leaves two. There’s Thomas, while you two have certainly gotten along well lately, he does not seem a likely candidate considering our unusual connection, and concern, for his wellbeing. It would likely cloud anything beyond platonic affection,”

“Logic,” Virgil hissed, using the title for the first time in awhile, but Logan’s eyes only lit up with victory.

“It may be one of his friends, perhaps Talyn being your similar aesthetic, but circumstances bar one on one interaction with them. So, I’m guessing, perhaps, Roman.”

Virgil prompty covered his face again, face heating up under his hands.

“It makes absolutely no sense.”

“No, none. And yet, here we are. Perhaps, maybe, it is a consequence of your low self worth?”

“What? Oh. I dislike myself so I seek out a  … Romantic interest, who mirrors my deprecation of my worth? He seems incapable of managing even a sincere compliment towards me, but I’m intrigued for some reason by both our banter and his way of presenting. Also he see- oh my god, your room is making me more stressed out than mine.”

“You get used to it. Perhaps, though, it is more a matter of Roman’s recent change in behavior, seeking to show you compassion, reigning in his own vocal clumsiness to attempt civil conversation. Maybe, in your low self esteem, you see Roman as a figure of confidence. With his affection, and therefore validation, perhaps you could emulate his ego and readjust your self-perception. However, there is an issue of dependency, and it would become a drastically unhealthy coping mechanism for underlying issues that would remain unaddressed.”

Then, both sides jumped.  Thomas, it felt, was awake. They were pulled to the common area without a word.

Thomas looked haggard, rough from an uneasy attempt at sleep. Virgil immediately felt a wave of guilt. 

“Who let you two alone together in the middle of the night?” He groaned, shaking his head.

“My apologies, Thomas, it’s only that dark, gloomy, and bothersome-”

“Oi!” Thomas scolded sharply, and feeling more at ease without the weight of logic, Virgil almost smiled. Almost.

“Came into my room, concerned about his little cru-”

“Crush, weird drink, huh? I’m gonna, you know, let you get back to bed. Sorry for keeping you up again. Gotta head out, night.”

“You get your butt back in here, right now, Virgil. Crush? On Roman, right?”

Virgil threw his hands up, exasperated. “Did everyone know before me?”

Thomas and Logan looked at each other, then back at Virgil.

In sync, they shrugged, “Yeah.”

“I mean, you did kind of check him out, that time.” Thomas pointed out.

“Which time?” Logan chimed in, laughing at his own joke, while Thomas had the manners to only repress a grin.

“Well. I’m moving to the space under my bed, see you guys never.” Virgil excused, going to slip out again, but Thomas caught his arm. 

It was unusual to touch in the common room, only possible with stand ins during the videos, as all the sides did technically only manifest as a convenient way to express certain emotions, usually. Still, here it was, Thomas reaching out.

“No way are any of us getting any sleep until we address this, Verge.”

“I did not okay that nickname.”

“What were you two talking about, anyway?”

Logan stepped forward, straightening his perpetual tie. Virgil wondered if he ever took it off, even to sleep. Out of all the sides, the only one who had any actual excuse to be nocturnal was Roman, conjuring up the adventures Thomas would travel in his dreams, but luckily, the side’s activity cycle fell in line with Thomas’, attributes working even as they rested.

Would Roman be awake anyway, now? Would the commotion of emotion wake him up? Wake Patton up?

What if they popped in?

“Ah, well, for starters, the likelyhood all young adults will cling to any affection presented by one we, even secretly, admire, but that it does not realistically always work out.”

“Oh, goodness, we’re sitting down for this one. Do not speak until I get back. Sit.” Thomas demanded, and the sides shared a look while both going to protest. Thomas held up a single finger, quieting them, and went to the kitchen.

He came back with hot chocolate for the three of them, and Virgil plopped down on the last stair, while Logan commandeered the couch.

“Thanks, I guess.” Virgil mumbled, reluctantly sipping. 

He loved it.

“So, let me get this right. You think your crush may be a result of your low self confidence, making you interested in Roman because he’s been being nice?”

“Yeah. I mean, that or because he sucks at being nice.”

“Oh boy. Listen, I know you’re not going to like this, but I don’t think we can have this discussion without Patton here.”

“What? Why? What could he possibly contribute to the conversation we can’t?” Logan asked, crossing his arms defensively.

“Emotional intelligence! I love you guys, I do, and you both are invaluable to my wellbeing, but there is a reason there is more than one or two of you! You may fight, you may cause conflict in me, but at the end of the day, you balance each other out. You balance me out, when I’m too far one way or another about an issue! I think you guys forget, you’re not competing, you all have your place in any conversation. So, of course I think Patton should be here for this. It’s discussion of something he understands better than any of us can, but I’ll respect if you don’t want him involved.”

It was quiet for a beat, Logan sighed, “He is right. Patton isn’t always the most logical, per say, but he does far surpass either of us in matters of the heart. He’d be … A valuable asset to the conversation. ”

Virgil took a breath, sipped his drink, and nodded solemnly. “Fine. Bring on Cupid.”

Without being called, Patton popped in.

“How-?” Thomas began, but Patton, grinning widely, put a finger to his lips.

“I come when I’m needed.” Patton said, waving his hand dismissively. “Now. Let’s talk about this, kiddo.”

Virgil didn’t speak, only shrugged, suddenly hyper aware he was without his hoodie when his hand couldn’t be enveloped in his sleeve as he ran a hand through his hair, pulling his mused bangs into place. Patton, going to sit next to the other, quietly offered the cardigan from around his neck. Virgil ducked his head as he accepted it, pulling it over his T-shirt. Patton cooed fondly.

“So, Virgil is nervous his feelings for Roman are a result of his low self esteem, as either Roman is a figure he admires who is showing him affection and validating him, or he’s being cruel, which falls in line with Virgil’s own skewed self perception.” Thomas explained, and Patton was uncharacteristically quiet, thinking for a while.

“It is what makes the most logical sense, as there seems very little reason for their personalities to capture any hint of romantic chemistry.”

Patton looked up at Logan, eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

Logan looked taken aback, cocked his head. “What, what?”

“It’s … A crush. Haven’t you ever-?” Patton took a breath, gathering his patience, and grinned. “Have you ever had a crush before?”

And, abruptly, Logan was flustered, pushing his glasses up his face, stuttering and checking his watch, “Me? Wh- of cour- what? It’s getting late- I-”

“So! You have!” Patton announced, delighted. Thomas laughed.

“That- yeah, I guess you have a point.”

“What point?” Virgil finally spoke, slouched enough to look up at everyone in the room.

“These things aren’t logical. They’re not supposed to make sense. We rarely have feelings for only the people it makes sense for us to, kiddo, we’re not magnets, we’re not only attracted to what we think we should be. You are … So complex, so full of emotions you have barely began to understand, and while you absolutely might be, on some level, seeking validation, it’s not because you’re attracted to him! It’s not why you’re attracted to him! It’s just how you react to all of us, because you want to be a part of something, but you need a response to understand you are sometimes. And that’s okay! Listen, hasn’t Logan been nearly as insulting as Roman at all junctures? Even when you’re on the same side of an argument, you two still manage to fight!”

Virgil felt himself loosen a fist he hadn’t noticed he’d made, muscles in his arms relaxing. Oh.

“I mean, he and I don’t get along perfectly.” Virgil admitted, and Logan looked to be contemplating. 

“So, if Virgil was only seeking to be treated badly to reflect his own self worth,”

“He’d seek you out. Especially as, while Roman can be more childish, you tend to have some sort of reasoning behind why you’re arguing, or insulting. It always hurts to be insulted, but when you can’t argue it,” Thomas filled in, and Virgil pipped up,

“It’s way worse. I mean, I think it bothers me more when you insult me, because you’re the one I’ve always felt kinda, you know, gets me. More than the others, at least.” He admitted, and Logan looked stricken, straightening up where he sat but his eyes falling. 

“I’m- I’ve never thought nearly enough about that.” Logan said, voice quiet, and Virgil shrugged.

“I just mean, I dunno, at the start it always felt like it was me against the world. But when you started to side with me, it made me feel like I might actually, well, belong. Like we were friends.”

Logan looked up, shaking his head. “Virgil, I may stand at odds with you on certain issues, and I may not always watch what I say enough, but we are absolutely friends.”

Virgil flushed, and had to try to hide a smile that broke out on his face. “Mutual … bud.”

Logan smiled back, surprisingly soft and sincere.

Patton, grinning wide and ecstatic, clapped. “Oh! That! Was! So! Good! You guysss!” he was shouting, so the others all shushed him, and he went quiet abruptly. They waited for a moment, thankfully without Roman coming to see what all the noise was about.

“So, okay, pure self hate ruled out. But-” Virgil began.

“But you also aren’t only seeking his approval. We all, in different measures and different stages, seek approval of those we admire. Of course we do. But that doesn’t mean you can’t feel genuine, healthy emotion for someone despite this, or alongside this. If this crush had only sparked because Roman had began to be nice to you, it wouldn’t make sense for it to have been an ongoing, quiet part of the way you communicate with him!”

“… Has it been?”

“Gosh, you guys are bad at this.” Patton said, sounding positively endeared. “Of course it has. For you to seek his approval, first would have to come the attraction and admiration. You wish you could be more cheery sometimes, sure, but you don’t wish yourself reckless, or so headstrong, you don’t wish yourself loud, you don’t wish you were more imaginative, you’re not just seeking out qualities you wish you had. In fact, you and Roman actually share quite a few traits! You are just as imaginative as he is, just because you’re more nightmare than daydream doesn’t mean you don’t have an ability for incredible wonder. You both are the most motivating assets of Thomas’ personality, working together to push his ambition, his skill, his dreams. If you weren’t there to keep from the backslide, Roman wouldn’t be able to move Thomas forward towards his goals alone! And, of course, Logan and I contribute, but that’s a part of Thomas that you two are best at pushing to be the best it can be! You admire Roman for everything about him, even the things that occasionally frustrate you, because you two are so much more compatible than you’d imagine!”

Virgil was staring off, thinking, and hummed. “ … So I just … Like Roman?”

Logan, looking impressed, merely nodded. “Seems like it.”

“Yeah, looks like it.” Thomas agreed, proud smile only as subdued as he could make it.

Virgil nodded in response. “Huh. Strange.”

“Stranger things have happened.” Logan admitted, but then looked up with a sly grin, and Thomas pointed at him, O'ing.

“Nice.”

“How is that reference even related?” Virgil asked, finally looking around.

“Because you’re just chalk full of spooky, young man!” Patton teased, back to his regular playfulness, and he shared a nod with Logan, who was finally taking a sip of his hot (now warm) chocolate.

Then, in the midst of laughing, Patton went dead quiet, eyes narrowing.

“Uh, Patton?” Thomas asked, concerned, and Virgil and Logan froze like deers caught in the headlights.

“Did you guys … Have hot chocolate without me?”

Patton sounded some strange mix of heartbroken and vengeful, and Logan was across the room in moments.

“Here, here, have mine. You deserve it.” Logan offered, handing over the mug, his brain emblem stamped on the side. Patton hesitated for a moment, but eventually nodded, pacified.

“We can share.” Patton insisted, getting up now to stretch and walk towards the couch, and Logan pushed his glasses up, muttering an agreement, hiding his face behind his hand.

When both were across the room, Thomas sat with Virgil.

“You okay?”

“Honestly? I think so. I was so stressed about the why of it, you know? It’s nice to feel like I can just … Feel it, like it doesn’t need a reason.”

Thomas nodded in understanding. “So, what are you going to do about it?”

Virgil looked, all things considered, surprisingly at ease. “No idea. Probably nothing, just pine from afar until it’s unavoidable or someone inevitable and embarrassingly spills the beans. Seems … Kinda Roman-tic right?”

Thomas wheezed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Oh no, they’re influencing you.”

Virgil scrunched his nose up, smiling crookedly, and with great affection said, “Yeah, I guess they are.”

#thomas sanders #ts roman #ts patton #ts virgil #ts logan #thomas sanders fanfiction #prinxiety #logicality #roman/virgil #??? idk what to tag this #sanders sides #crush #platonic moxiety #when! will!! i!!!stop!!! using!! so many!!! ellipsis #ts anxiety #anxiety sanders #ts morality #ts prince #ts logic #blahblahblah pls read

[mcdowellviborg58-blog]

The right way to Hang Draperies

Step ladders: Ensure you include a steady set of steps not to short therefore you over reach. Your forearms will drop of before you have taken your first of all lesson in the way to hang curtains. Not to extra tall that you cannot reach the screen comfortably with no leaning to be able to the side to hang curtains tossing you away balance. Window curtain hooks pertaining to standard pad pleat curtain tape Drape hooks Again make sure before starting that you have more than enough of the right type of curtain hooks Light draperies will be fine with regular plastic hooks. Medium pounds curtains apply nylon hooks, stronger than plastic. They are going to flex devoid of breaking. Heavy curtains employ metal dime hooks, they are bit difficult to handle they all stick collectively the box. The same as the Chinese puzzles I had as a child. Curtain hooks for bucram headed window treatments You will need what are called "pin hooks" given that they have a sharp pin which pierces throughout the fabric and bucram in the back of the curtain header. This kind of planning makes for the very best looking drapes. As always the very best all ways costs that bit more. Another pair of hands When you are understanding how to hang curtains large or perhaps heavy it is very useful to have got someone standing up at ground level holding the curtain taking weight. This permits you to suspend the window curtain onto your trail or fishing rod with ease. How many hooks will you need? Very well for window treatments with typical pencil pleat tape you will need a fishing hook every next pocket. For bucram went curtains you will need 1 for each and every pleat or goblet and one per end. Preparing your bucram headed window treatments prior to holding. The good news other than putting in the pin hooks setting them down 1/2 inch from the top of your curtain. you cannot find any more readying to do. Just learn how to hold curtains and dress these people properly. prepping your pen pleat drapes prior to hanging: Standard pen pleat shades to start you need to gather the tape topping your drapes. You do this kind of by taking out the 3 cords in the back of the curtain tape. To start pull the wires out of both ends of the curtain tape and tie all of them together within a firm knot. There are a couple of reasons for this 1 . This stops you pulling the cords completely out of the tape (not an excellent start when understanding how to hang curtains). 2 . It keeps the cords collectively on the end that you just pull the cords to be able to gather the curtain. Therefore continue to pull the wires out. Straight forward tip upon gathering your curtains. Take one set of knotted cords and hook over a door take care of or some different fixed subject. Then employ one hand to carry the curtain tape current other hand begin to pull the tape away from the door handle. You will see the heading on your curtain learn to pleat. How wide will you curtains ought to be? Next check what 50 percent the size of your monitor or rod measures. Let us say the track is usually 100 ins long. You half this to 65 inches, therefore add on 2 inches to permit your draperies to easily meet in the middle when hanging. So the completed width that you would like to gather each of your couple of curtains is definitely 52 ins. The more you discover how to hang curtains, the more this becomes second nature. Before you hang up curtains... stop and check! Before you start to hold your drape you need to place your window curtain down on a table or maybe the floor and check the compiled width is approximately right. Therefore if to narrow after that pull out the tape a little. If to wide in that case gather in the tape a tad bit more. what about the surplus cord? Finally sorting out all that surplus wire and nighttime up the pleats in the video tape. DO NOT SLICE THE CORDS! The best remedy is to pack the cords up by simply wrapping all of them around your fingers then simply tie a slip knot around the bundle. This allows you in the future to alter the header tape if you want to. After the cords are sorted away turn the curtain over. You need to glance at the pleats and try and including them out. Just do it about at this time because when you come to hang these people the pleats will move a little. Last job just before hanging your curtains All most presently there, before you can hold your drape you have to put the curtain hooks into the pockets on the back of the recording. On most normal pencil pleat tape there are 3 purses top, middle and lower part. How to hold curtains by a rod or rod If clinging under a fishing rod or trellis put your curtain hooks in the major pocket. Also note the amount of rings on your own rod or pole. This kind of determines the amount of hooks you make the curtain video tape. As a rule of thumb you utilize less hooks on a pole or pole than on the curtain track. On a track put a hook at any time 4th pocket sized and on a ror or pole every single 6 to 8 wallets. Hanging by a track? If holding from a curtain keep track of then place your window curtain hooks in the center or bottom bank pocket. this allows the curtain to cover the keep tabs on when sealed. To decide which will pocket to use try a person and see what their curtain appears to be hanging. In case your happy therefore great do the other drape. If not happy move the curtain hooks up or right down to suit. The 1st step when suspending A lot of people claim you should always commence hanging your curtains from your ends on the track or perhaps rod and work towards the center. I Disagree, I say it is wise to start from the middle and function outwards towards the ends. The reason why I inform you do it that way is because for those who have too many airplane diagram on your track or way too many rings with your rod you can easily remove them from the ends of your track or rod. Wherever if you begin from the outside to the middle the gliders or perhaps rings happen to be locked in the middle of your keep track of or stick. Meaning you should unhang the curtains to get rid of them. Not much more today and you will have the basics in order to hang drapes. Why carry out some advise to start from the middle section? The reason is on some monitors and fishing rods, but mainly the corded kind. They have what are referred to as overlap biceps and triceps. These are short arms manufactured from metal or perhaps platic with holes in for the last handful of curtain hooks on each industry leading of your couple of curtains (edges that match at centre of your window). Theses overlap arms let one window curtain to pass and overlap the other curtain by two or three inches. This provides you total privacy. Hence what's the top problem? Therefore where's the situation? the problem is why these arms usually are not very strong. Dupioni silk curtains This implies when you start to hold a medium to large curtain. Specifically without somebody carrying the weight that they sag and twist or break entirely. Avoiding the challenge! So how can we avoid that when hanging from your center in the track or perhaps rod and working outwards. Very simple actually, if you need a couple of hooks to travel in the terme conseillé arm then simply count in towards the 3rd lift and attach this in to the first genuine glider or perhaps ring. Forcing the 1st and 2nd curtain hooks in order to hang in space. continue hanging your curtain functioning from the middle section outwards. That's how to dangle curtains my way (the best way definitely "wink") After that once you have come to the ends of your trail or rod (removing any surplus gliders or rings). You go back to the middle and hook within the last couple of curtain hooks into the overlap biceps and triceps. So preventing putting to much excess fat on them. Very well I hope you may have picked up one or two "Tips" means hang drapes. This is just the first stage. Next is definitely the "Dressing" of your curtains. Shelter Stevens is involved in the planning and appropriate of all kinds of window treatments for quite some time. He now writes "How to" articles or blog posts on this susceptible to help others create the window treatments of their dreams.

#Long length curtains #Dupioni silk curtains #contemporary shower curtain #Silent Gliss Curtain Track #shower curtain #Rod Pocket Curtains #Lace Curtains #Velvet curtains