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#Captain Love
corposeco · 11 months
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I don't know how to draw guns. Or hats.
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lovesomehate · 2 years
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Spurs ships texts: 62/??
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sully-s · 2 months
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Listen, if I had the time I would just make Justice Leauge the mockumentary, lol.
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levi fucking "spends post-war free time handing out candy to kids" ackerman
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loveindefinitely · 3 months
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task force 141 with a controversially young civilian girlfriend.
-> mentions of large age-gaps, referenced sexual content, alcohol use. afab!fem!reader. minor dubcon (everyone's drunk.)
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thinking that you're studying in uni. working on the side to try and afford rent and, if you're lucky, some noodles every other night. you don't really get seen compared to your friends, who go out clubbing and spend their spare time on dating apps.
one time, your friend drags you to a bar. not usually your scene, considering its clientele is more for tradies, and military-type men. not like the stuck-up blue collar boys at your uni.
cue you getting drunk off your ass, barely even standing, when you bump into one johhny mactavish.
he holds your elbows, your chest crashing into his. gentle with it, too -- kind and sweet and grounding.
"y'alright, lass?" he asks, a small smirk on his face, eyes darting across your frame greedily. he, in all fairness, looks nearly as drunk as you. he stumbles a little with your weight.
you giggle, tilting your head to look at him. say something stupid like, "you don't look like a student."
his brows raise, his dimples deepen. "aye, very smart, hen."
you preen with the compliment, a cheesy grin stuck to your face. you make no move to stand up and leave. you think your friend just left with a guy anyways.
johnny moves you, muscled arm around your waist as he takes you to a booth.
three other men sit in it, only one looking somewhere in a ten-year age bracket to you. they're all impossibly large, filling out the space with ease. your stomach swoops, but you easily blame the alcohol.
manoeuvring you so you sit in his lap, johnny's hand is a comforting weight on your waist. he huffs a laugh.
"didn't realise we were goin' for jailbait, soap," the youngest one chimes, dark features shining in the pub's dim light. his eyes trail your frame silkily.
you can't stop the roll of your eyes -- your inhibitions have made you senseless. "'m not, 'm completely," you drag out the syllables, "legal."
a hand on your thigh makes you jolt, and when you look over, a blonde man with a black medical mask raises an unimpressed brow. "got a problem, kid?"
you shoot him a weak glare. "not a kid. weirdo."
the arm around your waist tightens, as does the weirdo's hand encompassing your thigh.
"not scared of anythin', are you darl'?" the final man in the booth asks, hands folded together where they rest at the table. he looks at least double your age, and that simple fact along with his drawling words has your core tightening.
"what's there to be scared of?" you ask, stupidly. your head tilts to the side, unknowingly moving to rest on johnny's shoulder. he doesn't comment.
"miss bein' young and drunk," gaz sighs, hand softly gripping the gin sat on the table in front of him.
"you look young," your brows furrow, not understanding. how old could he really be, to act so nostalgic of your current predicament? "how old are you guys?"
it's an embarrassing question -- makes you feel like a child all over again. but your interest is quickly peaking, and your need for answers overpowers your need for decorum.
johnny's the one to answer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers.
"gaz, the pretty one over there, he's twenty-eight," he murmurs, heat stirring low in your gut as you nod mindlessly, meeting gaz's eyes.
johnny stokes his thumb over the skin of your hip, and you curl into him further -- stranger be damned.
"i'm thirty," he hums, and god, he sounds so fucking sensual you're about to melt into his arms. if you aren't already.
"the guy in the mask?" said man's hand tightens impossibly against your skin, fingers just shy of grazing your aching pussy, "he's thirty-seven. got a lot of experience, aye?"
you shudder.
"what about you?" you end up voicing, shyly meeting the last man's gaze. he takes a slow sip of his whiskey.
he leans back into the cushion, eyeing you carefully.
"forty-three."
your thighs squeeze together, and fuck, if that's not a turn-on. no matter how unsafe you should feel, surrounded by four military-grade, older men, it only manages to have you wet beyond belief.
all you can manage is one question.
"take me home?"
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bugsinthebayou · 1 year
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beaulesbian · 3 months
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peak romance
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kbondoxxxxav · 29 days
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supernova captains eat a lot
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asgardswinter · 2 months
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Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley coded
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gizaoyas · 9 months
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"Shambles"
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bluegiragi · 1 month
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negotiations.
early access + nsfw on patreon
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gomzdrawfr · 5 months
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Price: You watch your backs.
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Price: Alright?
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venator-signum · 5 months
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kamala khan would have the most horrendous ao3 author's notes known to man
"hey guys sorry the update is late i switched places with an avenger (ajdgrhsh literally crying) and a really cool space scientist lady and then got into a fight and some alien dudes wrecked my house and then I met Nick fury and I was literal space it was crazy and I had to help save the universe and saw said scientist lady give up her life to save all of us... anyways hope you like the new fic, branching out with an arranged marriage au for this one!!!"
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nenayaquisieras · 2 months
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my brain is saying 141 with a reader that sees dead people. like they notice how respectful she is to the dead. when she kills she moves the bodies, sometimes says a small prayer to herself. they see her looking at things that aren’t there. “Did you see that? Never mind.” or she mentions she feels something weird in the air, or something wrong. talks to the team about the sleep paralysis she gets, always leaving out the grayish dark figure that accompanies her on those nights.
She’s never told anyone until she got drunk enough to were she’s literally laughing saying
“oh yea i see dead people.” And the guys obv think she’s joking and egg her on about said dead people she sees. but then she tells them about the entities that follow them, the people they’ve killed, always following them around. some are very angry, she feels their malicious intentions. ends up describing them in grave detail, they way they looked, what they wore, the last words they spoke before her teammates pulled the trigger. Something that only THEY would know.
“oh man, let me tell you about Gilbert my sleep paralysis demon. I swear he’s been visiting me more and more recently.”
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thhecaptainschair · 3 months
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My Roman Empire: Sally dropping a match in an old milkshake knowing Poseidon would walk through that door in 0.7 seconds
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sfordaisy · 4 months
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