#and how i NEED to hear Bloodsport in that room

[chaos-and-recover]

[siilvan]

bloodsport – IV

prologue | one | two | three | next

characters: vladimir makarov

summary: your first time back in the field is a whirlwind of emotions, especially after being forced to rely on yet another enemy. new information is revealed, and you realize that a drastic action may be the only way to fix this mess.

genre: angst, slowburn, enemies to ?, fem!reader (callsign: petra)

warnings: semi-proofread, cursing, canon-typical violence, descriptions of blood/injuries, poorly written spec-ops, allusions to trauma and stress, reader has a bit of a breakdown, graves lol

word count: 6k

note: giving a quick PSA here— please be mindful about what y'all write. i know this fic is about a very controversial and problematic character, but i try to be mindful about how i portray him and his actions. don't romanticize things that should not be romanticized, and be respectful to people. COD as a whole is problematic, but that doesn't mean we need to be a shitty community. support real victims, don't spread hate. easy peasy.

also, yes, i changed my formatting. the little text is too hard to read without my glasses, so... yeah. hope it's not ugly now :)

you spend the rest of the night tossing and turning, trying but failing to will yourself to fall asleep. soap texts you shortly before the sun comes up - a picture of himself and the rest of the team, posing for the camera. they're covered in dirt and ash, exhaustion apparent in their eyes, but the image is enough to make you crack a smile.

you give them a few hours, pulling yourself out of bed after sunrise and occupying yourself with mundane tasks around the house, before picking up the phone and calling price.

"hey, captain. sorry for calling so early." you chuckle, leaning against the arm of the couch.

"don't worry about it," price clears his throat, hoarse from fatigue, and you wonder for a second if he was asleep before you called. "was just finishing some paperwork. what d'you need?"

a low sigh escapes from you. "i know it's only been a day, but... can i come back? i really want to get back to work."

you can hear papers shuffling from his end. "i know you want to work, but we just can't take the risk—"

"there isn't going to be any risk," you assert, raising your voice slightly and interrupting him. you pause and wet your lips, speaking in a softer tone again. "please, captain, i know i can handle it. i just want to get back to normal already."

the line is quiet for a long moment, with price silently deliberating over your request. you shift nervously, gripping the phone tighter as you wait impatiently for a response.

finally, after you shift for the umpteenth time, he exhales deeply.

"i'll see if i can convince laswell, okay?" he concedes. you can hear his chair creaking as he leans back - you're assuming, at least. "pack your bags. i'll send a transport helicopter in an hour."

⋆⋆⋆

that's how you ended up at base again, with the team welcoming you back with open arms. laswell initially rejected the idea, stating the same concerns as before, but price managed to sway her after some discussion.

so, now you're in a meeting room, gathered around a table with lists, blueprints, names, pictures— any and all of the intel that the task force has gotten their hands on, scattered across the surface. you blink when price raps his knuckles against the tabletop, drawing your attention.

it's laswell who talks, shooting a glance around the table to address the group. "as you're all aware, shadow company has been a target of the konni group in recent times," she starts, sending you a cursory look, asking you for confirmation. you nod, and she continues. "not only have they been fighting the group head-on in al-mazrah, but there's been several incidents with undercover konni operatives in their ranks."

"good, let 'em fuckin' deal with it." soap remarks, earning noises of agreement from gaz, ghost, and yourself. price and laswell aren't as entertained by it.

"general shepherd, commander graves, and their men betrayed us." laswell pauses before letting out a heavy sigh. "i know none of you were happy about the ceasefire, and i know that you were furious when graves resurfaced. but, besides farah's forces, shadow company is our strongest ally."

"—and the only one capable of making any strong moves without risking an all-out war." price adds, shaking his head. everyone's displeased with the situation, that much is obvious.

"where are you goin' with this?" ghost asks. a tense silence fills the room for a long moment, making you shift awkwardly.

laswell motions towards the door on the far side of the room with her head. you cast your gaze in the same direction, watching as the door is pushed open.

as if on cue, the very man that should've been buried in flames in las almas walks into the room. the shadow himself. philip graves.

"oh, fuck off." soap growls at the man, looking ready to lunge at him from across the table. ghost steps forward and, if you didn't know any better, you'd think he was reaching for his sidearm. gaz and price are eerily quiet while glaring daggers at him, and you immediately feel the blood rush to your ears as every nerve commands you to shoot him yourself.

"i know this isn't ideal," laswell attempts to placate all of you, though the cold stare she regards him with betrays her calm demeanor. "but, for now, we're allies. we have a bigger threat to worry about."

"yeah, those konni guys are, uh..." graves perks up, languidly sauntering up to the table. he purses his lips for a second, thinking, before clicking his tongue. "real troublesome. i've lost a lot of good men thanks to them."

"good." ghost mutters, straightening himself next to soap.

price cuts through the tension with a wave of his hand. "alright, none of us want this, but we've got no other options." he grumbles. "konni's moving towards urzikstan. if we want to stop 'em, then we need to cooperate."

you eye graves from your peripherals, recalling the information that makarov gave you a couple weeks ago. graves isn't in on shepherd's plan, but he's likely the only person who knows the general's whereabouts. you need to say something while you still can. how will he take the news, though? he's betrayed you before, he'll do it again if it benefits him.

"petra, you listening?" laswell's voice abruptly interrupts your thoughts. you divert your attention back to her and notice that everyone's focus is on you.

"i have something i need to say," you blurt out. you need to bring up the general before he potentially ropes graves in.

you receive a collection of interested stares, urging you to go on.

"when i was captured, i managed to get some information," you drop your gaze, narrowing your eyes at the documents laid out. "we're not just fighting konni and al-qatala. some of the forces occupying al-mazrah are under shepherd's command."

the silence that falls over the room is almost deafening. the group balks at you with shock and confusion written on their expressions, until graves huffs out a laugh.

"general shepherd's 'forces' are my men. i can assure you, petra, that none of my shadows are workin' with konni." he says with a lopsided smile, confident as ever.

you turn to face graves fully, grimacing. "i'm not talking about your shadows. shepherd has another group under his command."

"what group?" price asks.

"cia operatives. ex-soldiers, specifically." you turn back, eyes flitting between price and laswell. "he's sending men undercover. the unmarked mercenaries that we keep encountering? that's them."

laswell shakes her head and crosses her arms over her chest. "where did you get this information?"

you freeze. your mouth opens to say makarov's name, but for some reason, you hesitate. with a deep inhale, you blink away the odd feeling and force the words past your lips.

"makarov. i'm not sure why, but he told me about it."

yet another unbearable tension befalls the group; you're getting close to ripping your hair out over it. as if reading your thoughts, gaz speaks up.

"you know about this?" he says, directed at graves. he's tight-lipped, glowering at him.

graves doesn't respond, letting the question hang in the air. he looks just as surprised as the rest of you - makarov was telling the truth, then. shadow company isn't in on the plan. shepherd has effectively betrayed his strongest ally, to your knowledge.

"i'm sure there's an explanation," graves utters, chuckling to himself. "war's a dirty business. there's good reason to send men undercover."

"he's got part of the special activities division in his pocket." laswell says.

"isn't that where you pulled alex from?" price hums, earning a nod in reply. it's a bad situation, to say the least.

you regain everyone's attention and continue. "i don't know the full plan, but makarov suspected that shepherd's doing this to put himself back on top. start a war, get himself marked as a hero, reap the rewards."

graves raises a brow at you, amusement written on his face. "and, we should trust the judgement of a terrorist?" he says while searching the room for support.

price keeps his gaze on you, though the distant look in his eye tells you that his mind is elsewhere. "i'd trust this one's judgement." he mutters, jaw clenching.

"well, there's no point in standin' around, is there?" graves seems to bounce back quickly, shrugging off the news. "we've got a job to do and a terrorist to catch. let's focus on that."

"i'll contact farah and see if alex knows anything about the men under shepherd's command." laswell says as you all break away from the table and start to file out of the room.

"keep us updated," price nods to her before turning to the rest of you. "wheels up in thirty. we'll debrief on the way."

you breathe out a relieved sigh once everyone breaks off, heading off to finish any last minute preparations before takeoff. you linger in the corridor, running a hand down your face and groaning into the palm of your hand. of course, you have no choice but to work with an enemy whilst relying on intel from yet another. at least you can be open with your team about this one.

shepherd and makarov are your targets. graves comes after. take down all three, and your headaches are gone. no more doubting yourself, no more questions, no more nights spent looking at lists of crimes that make you feel sick. you can resume your not-so-peaceful life with the rest of the task force and celebrate the world being a somewhat safer place.

your phone buzzes in your pocket, distracting you from your pondering and pulling you back to the present. you frown at the name on the caller id.

it's a single letter: 'v.'

after your conversation - if you can even call it that - with makarov last night, you saved his number. putting his name in your phone is basically shooting yourself in the foot, so you saved it under a name that gives you deniability in the event someone sees it.

you duck into an empty rec room nearby and accept the call, keeping an eye on the door as you lift the phone to your ear.

"you actually picked up the phone this time." makarov remarks upon you answering. your frown deepens, brows furrowing.

"if you don't have anything important to say, i'm hanging up."

he chuckles, far too casual for your liking. "i have an update. something that i'm sure you'll be interested in."

you shift, leaning against the back of one of the couches. "what is it?"

"in case you're planning to return to al-mazrah, just know that shepherd's men have been given strict orders to target and eliminate members of the one-four-one."

a chill creeps up the back of your spine. it's an unsurprising order, but you still rack your brain as to why he gave it. does shepherd somehow know that you know about his plans? it shouldn't be possible— until the meeting that finished just minutes ago, the only people privy to the knowledge were makarov and yourself.

of course, shepherd's allies are aware of it, but the only ally of his that you've contacted is graves. you doubt that he's talked to the general in the short amount of time since, which eliminates graves as a possibility just as quickly as you suspected him.

there has to be another source. someone feeding him information, keeping the one-four-one under watch.

"shepherd's got a mole in our group." you reply, pinching the bridge of your nose. "fucking hell. he knows that we're onto him."

"'we,' lieutenant?" he comments with an amused lilt in his tone.

"my team, asshole. he's got men undercover in your group and in my squad. he's watching all of his enemies."

makarov hums, voice dropping a little. "you have a keen eye, petra. have you asked the shadow about shepherd's whereabouts, yet?" he asks, brushing past your frustration.

"haven't had the chance," you mutter. "based on his reaction to the news, i doubt he'll give it away, though. we might have to get the location ourselves."

he exhales, audible through the phone. "it would be more convenient if you could convince him to tell you."

you roll your eyes. "yeah, of course it would. just don't expect any miracles. aren't you the one with all the mysterious ways of gathering information, anyway?" you grumble sarcastically and move away from the couch, starting to pace around the room while keeping your gaze on the door.

"i can get his location if necessary, but that would eliminate your usefulness in this operation, wouldn't it?"

he's right, and you hate him for it. "you still need me to kill him." you counter bluntly.

"i can do that, too. your team wants revenge for his betrayal. this is me being charitable - don't disappoint."

makarov ends the call before you have the chance to argue, leaving you to huff to yourself in the empty room. a moment later, a head pokes around the doorway, startling you and nearly making you drop your phone when you jump.

gaz is regarding you with a sly grin as he fully reveals himself and steps into the room. your palms immediately moisten with sweat as worry floods your mind - how much did he just hear?

"so, who you talkin' to?" gaz cocks his head to the side, teasing. he's relaxed, standing in front of you with his hands shoved in his pockets.

you pocket your phone and flash a calm smile. "that depends. you have any guesses?"

he chuckles, lifting one of his hands to playfully stroke at his chin as he thinks. "let's see... i know you weren't home for long, but—" his grin morphs into a lopsided smirk as he eyes you suspiciously. "y'got a boyfriend?"

dear god, no.

you resist the urge to gag at the thought and shake your head. "nope, it's just a... friend of mine."

gaz leans forward, an inquisitive 'ah' tumbling from his lips. "a friend, eh? they got a name?" he asks.

"he, uh... just goes by 'v.'"

"'v?' like the letter?"

you answer with an affirmative "mhm," patting gaz on the shoulder as you brush past him. "it's a nickname i gave him. don't worry about it."

gaz groans in exasperation as you stroll towards the door, trying to ignore the way your heart races. lying is a normal part of the job, but lying to your team? generally not recommended.

"most 'just friends' don't have exclusive nicknames, you know!" gaz calls out from behind as you round the corner and start down the hall, leaving him alone.

a sick part of you finds the sentiment - makarov, being anything more than an enemy - entertaining, but your better judgement steers you back on track. you've got a mission to prepare for, and the likelihood of something going wrong is as high as ever. you need to focus on the mission and getting graves to give up shepherd.

⋆⋆⋆

shadow company's gunship is a familiar sight as you climb aboard, slipping past the groups of shadows and finding your teammates gathered around what you can only describe as the command center. graves is standing close by, though the tension is palpable as you approach.

after the aircraft lifts off is when graves talks, addressing the soldiers lining the seats of the craft.

"alright, now i know we've had our problems in the past," he starts, briefly acknowledging your group before turning back to his men. "however, none of that matters right now. the one-four-one is our ally on this mission; treat 'em like your own. copy that, shadows?"

johnny snorts from next to you. "where have we heard this before?" he mumbles.

there's a resounding "yep-yep" from his men, accompanied by several nods and looks in your direction. graves pats one of the soldiers on the shoulder and looks to price.

"think you can lay out the rest, captain."

price starts down the middle row, his voice booming even over the sounds of people checking their weapons, gear, and anxiously shifting in their seats. he moves slowly, practically stalking down the length of the gunship.

"the mission is simple: konni and al-qatala have set up bases across the city. they're using gas, heavy artillery, and stolen weapons to protect themselves." price stops for a moment and lets his gaze drag over the soldiers staring back at him. "i don't think i need to remind you shadows of what konni's done to your brothers in arms. we're going to break off into strike teams - eight men - and destroy these bases. alpha team will take the nerve center in the heart of the city. you already know your assignments."

graves speaks again once price goes quiet. "the commanders are not likely going to be in any of these field bases. but, if they are, then each and every single one of you has execute authority." he announces. "first man to bag an HVT gets a reward." he adds with a smirk, earning light laughter from several of his men.

when the speeches conclude, you settle back in your seat.

alpha team includes yourself, price, graves, and five of the shadows that graves handpicked. ghost, soap, and gaz are leading the bravo team, charged with the largest and best-guarded of the field bases. the commanding chain within shadow company are leading the other groups tasked with the bases scattered around the city.

you fish your phone out of one of your vest pockets when it buzzes, reading the notification on the screen.

there's an agent in your group 11:06 am

not a shadow. special forces. 11:06 am

you frown, angling the screen back and quickly scanning the group. everyone seems to be engrossed in conversation, giving you a chance to respond.

do you have a name? 11:07 am

not yet. he's a rookie. 11:07 am

he's stationed at the base you're staying at 11:07 am

check the files. should have transferred recently. 11:08 am

thank you. 11:08 am

don't mention it. 11:09 am

you're quick to tuck your phone away again, jolting when gaz suddenly addresses you.

"texting your boyfriend, eh?" he laughs, catching everyone's attention.

soap snorts and turns to you. "since when did you start dating?"

you wave them off, sitting up again as all eyes fall on you - even ghost, who is usually horribly uninterested in gossip.

"what are you two, schoolchildren?" you ask, earning playful noises of offense. "he's just a friend. not even a close one."

you're getting yourself caught up in a lie. a shitty one, at that. all it's doing is making people more interested in who you're talking to. at this rate, you'll get caught by the end of the day.

"bullshit— no one in this job talks to a person this much if they're not special." gaz counters, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

price chuckles. "c'mon, gaz. come off it," he lightly scolds the sergeant before looking at you. "just make sure he treats you nice, yeah?" he adds, both teasing and sincere at the same time.

"he's not my— yeah, okay. i'll remember that." you concede, slumping back in your seat.

the topic is dropped not long after, leaving you to relax as people talk around you. after a couple minutes, you can feel your eyelids start to droop, reminding you of how restless last night was. the trip's going to take a while, you might as well get some sleep while you still can.

⋆⋆⋆

everything is so hot. the sun, the ground, your clothes, the air— you.

you don't have any protective gear on, your sidearm secured in your loose grip as you stumble through the ruins where a city once stood.

that's right, you think. the city was destroyed in all the fighting. reduced to nothing more than rubble. you remember when there used to be buildings here; half-toppled and abandoned, but they stood as evidence of life nonetheless.

you falter, landing on your knee and hissing as it hits the solid ground below you. your vision starts to blur as your eyes water, forcing you to rub at them with your free hand in a desperate attempt to clear them.

when you blink rapidly, trying to force back the disorientation and bleariness, you notice a figure directly ahead of you.

an ally. a friend. someone that can help.

you force yourself to your feet and stagger towards them, sucking in a hopeful breath when they start to rush to meet you. the harsh sun— fuck, it's so hot— makes you squint, preventing you from making out a face until they're already pulling you into their embrace, strong arms holding you close to their chest.

"it's okay." their voice— his voice, reassures you softly, one of his hands coming to rest on the back of your head, cradling you impossibly closer. "i took care of it, my dear. you're safe now."

hot tears streak down your cheeks, dirty with sand, dust, and ash, as you wrap your arms around his middle. you try to speak, but all that comes out is a hiccup and a pathetic sob, so you resolve to burying your face in his shoulder to muffle your cries.

you're tired. exhausted, actually. for once in this career, you want to be selfish. you want to be the protected one. fighting, losing allies, killing— it never ends.

he shushes you, but even in your state, you can tell the action is unnatural. gentleness, empathy, tender care... it isn't who he is.

you manage to lift your head enough to look at him, eyes glassy with tears.

makarov stares back at you, his callous gaze betraying the way he holds you. it makes you pause, confused, as you slowly recall why you're even here.

you were fighting konni operatives. there was a missile— no, something bigger. something that decimated the city and would have taken you along with it, had you not ducked into a shelter at the very last second. when you emerged, shaken and dazed in the aftershock, you encountered al-qatala and konni mercenaries alike.

bodies scattered in the streets, men wheezing for air despite blood displacing the oxygen in their lungs and leaking from every orifice, some still trying to fight even as they collapse in heaps of pure agony, writhing on the ground alongside their brothers in arms.

you wince when his fingers trace along the edge of your jaw, his forefinger hooking under your chin and forcing you to look into his eyes after your gaze drifts away.

"their lives mean nothing," makarov whispers, barely audible over the sound of your heart pounding against your ribcage. "not compared to you. you're better, stronger, than them. you will serve me well. you will help me usher in a new age."

he runs the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, slightly chapped from the dry heat. on instinct, you part your lips, and he moves his hand to cup your face before leaning in to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

it's wrong. this is wrong.

you shouldn't be here. you shouldn't be doing this.

the kiss is a distraction, keeping you occupied as his other hand falls from its spot on your hip. you don't even notice the change until a gunshot rings out, and pain equally as burning as the kiss courses through your veins.

you can't even muster a proper cry as you pull back, one of your own hands flying to the epicenter of the pain, right in the middle of your stomach. your fingers brush against the spot, and you whimper when you lift them back up to your face. dark red stains your skin, dripping down your wrist.

"i just need to fix you first. under my guidance... you will be perfect, my dear." makarov mutters, catching you and holding you up when you crumple against him. he coos at you, sympathetic yet mocking, as he scoops you up in his arms, the world around you going dark.

⋆⋆⋆

you wake up with a start, shifting to the edge of your seat as you frantically rub at your eyes. there's an ache deep in the pit of your stomach, making you press your palm against the same spot as your dream.

this time, when you look down at your hand, you see nothing. a shaky sigh escapes from you at the sight - or, rather, the lack thereof.

"y'all right?" ghost asks, eyeing you from the seat across from you.

"yeah, yeah—" you respond, shaking off the lingering effects of the dream. "we almost there?"

price comes over, having been talking with graves some feet away, and pats your shoulder in acknowledgement. "about to touch down, actually. let's go."

you disembark alongside the rest of alpha team, taking up formation with price and graves, with the few shadow company operatives behind the three of you. reaching the building isn't a difficult task despite the many mercenaries standing between it and your team; as much as you hate to admit it, the shadows are skilled in the field, even with their misgivings.

the building is another high rise, like the one you infiltrated weeks ago, half-crumpled from the effects of the fighting in the city. price leads the group as you all enter it through a sizeable hole in the wall, clearing out the first floor with trained precision.

the group of shadows form a perimeter just outside as you investigate the interior with price and graves, finding it... empty?

"thought you said this was the nerve center," you mutter, turning to the men as they search around, equally as perplexed as you. "there's nothing here."

price shakes his head, standing up from where he was crouched over some rubble. "there was something here. they must've moved."

"they knew we were comin'." graves says with a frustrated huff. "probably just protecting it to keep up the charade. the real control center could be anywhere in the city."

the two start for the exit with you in tow. "could be outside of it for all we know. we need to contact the other squads." price replies before pausing at the threshold and angling his head upwards. you stop several feet back and send him a confused look, before a low rumbling echoes throughout the building, sending dust and small debris falling from the floors above.

the rumbling stops for a second, until a louder, harsher one follows. larger pieces of wreckage start to loosen and threaten to fall, small bits clattering against the ground.

"shit, the building's too unstable— it's gonna collapse—!" price shouts as a metal beam crashes into the ground less than twenty feet away from you.

while price and graves are able to duck out amidst the falling debris, you're forced to dive backwards after a piece of the floor above falls right into your path. you search for a way around it, but as the violent shaking increases and sends more collapsing down all around you, you realize that cover might be your only option.

you scan the room quickly and dive under a pile of slabs and beams, sturdy enough to not collapse under the weight of falling wreckage, but with just enough room for you to squeeze in underneath.

it's only seconds after you find cover that the thundering sounds of heavy rubble crashing down all around you fills your ears, forcing you to cover them with your hands as each crash makes you flinch.

the worst of the destruction is short-lived. a couple minutes pass by before you're willing to move, the occasional piece of the upper floors still collapsing around you every now and then. you let out a trembling breath once you emerge, pure adrenaline coursing through your veins.

the exit. you hastily search for it, but all hope drains from you when you find it and see that it's completely blocked by the wreckage.

"petra? can you hear me?" price's voice crackles through your radio.

you go to respond, coughing harshly due to all the dirt and dust floating in the air. "i hear you— i'm all right," you tear your eyes from the exit and look for another path. it's a big building, surely you can find something. "just stuck in here." you grumble into the radio.

"we're gonna try to find another way in, see if you can meet us somewhere." he says. you can hear graves barking orders at his men in the background. "be careful." price adds in a rushed tone.

you drop your hand from your radio and clutch your gun close as you carefully traverse the field of debris, mentally thanking whatever higher power that the building only partially collapsed on top of you, instead of crushing you completely.

every movement out the corner of your eyes makes you stop and aim your weapon at it; it's highly unlikely - but not impossible - that you're not alone. anyone could've snuck in after the collapse, or hidden themselves like you did. al-qatala, konni, shepherd's men— you have a lot of enemies and very few allies in the area.

you spin around at the sound of something shifting, but only see a few pieces of wood hitting the ground. you're getting too paranoid. you try to steel yourself, breathing deeply, before a smooth voice makes you choke on the air that gets caught in your throat.

"you are very unlucky, aren't you?"

you turn again, gun drawn and finger on the trigger, but stop short upon seeing a friendly...

well, you see makarov standing across the room. it's an enemy that doesn't seem all-too interested in killing you - for now, at least.

"how did you..." you trail off, lowering your weapon.

apparently understanding your question, he vaguely motions behind himself. "there's a breach." he says, glancing over the destruction as he approaches you.

you squint at him as he draws closer, briefly tightening your grip on your gun. he stops several feet away, though, so you allow yourself to relax just a bit, lowering your weapon.

"i figured you'd be staying far away from al-mazrah, it's an active war zone after all." you comment, earning a dismissive look.

"i don't mind getting my hands dirty," makarov utters with a lofty grin tugging at his lips. "besides, we need to talk."

you cock your head to the side, curious. "and, you couldn't call or text me about this? that's been working out so far." you chuckle softly.

he steps closer again, standing a little over an arm's length away. "i happened to be close by." he responds. "this is also something better discussed in person."

you nod, hesitantly slinging your gun over your shoulder to cross your arms over your chest.

"after our last exchange, i managed to gather more information from my... source." he punctuates the last word with a half-assed attempt at a conciliatory smile. "the mole planted within your group reported to shepherd recently; he's aware of our communication." he continues, before you interrupt him.

"wait, no one knows about this, not even my squad." you assert, taking another step closer to him. you're just under an arm's length away, now.

"there was an agent within the group assigned to your care when you were captured. one of the two men that accompanied us on the first day - he listened in on our conversation and delivered the details to the general." makarov speaks in a hushed tone, one you can just barely hear over rubble crumbling somewhere nearby. "the agent on your end tracked you after you reunited with your squad. something of yours was bugged, they heard us that night."

how could he... most of your belongings were clothes, which you know for certain weren't bugged. the only other item that traveled home with you is your cellphone—

"shit," you mumble, practically tearing your vest pocket open and grabbing your phone. there's nothing obviously wrong with it at first glance, but once you pop the case off and check inside, your suspicions are confirmed.

there's a small tracking device flashing red at you, mocking you, and you rip it out before tossing it on the ground and stomping on it.

"he's heard everything," you say, twisting your boot to scatter the broken pieces. "fuck, if this gets out— i can explain this to my team and make do with the judgement, but if shepherd tells any of his friends in their cushy government positions, i'm dead."

makarov shifts, looking past you, but you don't even notice the action thanks to the adrenaline reflooding your system. "that would be an issue," he mutters, reaching for the holster at his hip. "i suppose i could protect you."

you snort, dragging your gaze from your boot to his face. "i'm not joining your side, even for this."

a thin string of red light shines from the darkness behind you, aimed at the back of your skull. makarov follows it to its source, all but ignoring your rejection, as his fingers wrap around the handle of his desert eagle.

a loud gunshot rings out, echoing against the walls. you instinctively reach for your stomach, preparing yourself for the pain you felt in that dream, body tensing up as it flies into survival mode.

the pain never comes. a heavy thump makes you turn, however, watching as a soldier collapses to the ground. unmarked uniform. one of the general’s men.

"shepherd has not earned your blood. if anyone is going to kill you, it will be me." makarov lowers his gun and meets your muddled gaze. "i suggest you reconsider my offer, petra, and give me a call when you make up your mind."

you’re left in that state as he sidesteps and saunters past you, seemingly disappearing into the darkness himself. you’re sure there’s another exit that you missed, one he’s taking to avoid running into your squad.

his offer. joining him for protection.

you'll never follow makarov or his ideals, much less join him for such a selfish reason. if you can kill shepherd, then you can destroy any evidence and get yourself out of this mess. with graves' cooperation and your team to help, that possibility is well within your reach. the only crime you'll have to answer for is severely disappointing your teammates, but they'll understand.

except, there's no guarantee that graves will help, and the rules of engagement prevent you from taking effective action against shepherd. he may be on the run, but he's an american general - killing him could land the one-four-one in hot water with the government.

that'll only lead to more restrictions, more eyes on you, more questions— there's nothing you can do to stop it.

you need someone without limits. someone the government doesn't have their hands on.

you need makarov.

a series of heavy footsteps alert you to a new presence, snapping you out of your trance. you lift your head in time to see price, graves, and the shadows appear from around a large pile of debris in the same direction that makarov originally approached you from.

"petra!" price calls out, jogging ahead of the group and stopping just in front of you. "you broken?" he asks, placing a firm hand on your shoulder and dragging his gaze across your form, searching for any injuries.

"no, i'm fine. nothing major." you mumble, struggling to find your voice all of a sudden. "just, uh..." you lose it again, your tongue darting out to nervously wet your dry lips.

"something wrong?" he murmurs, quiet enough that graves and his men can't hear from their positions farther away.

you can feel every beat of your heart, rapidly thumping against your ribs to the point of making your chest ache. only price can give you approval to do something so risky, so stupid. he'll understand. he knows the job isn't perfect, but you do what you have to do—

"i have something to confess, captain."

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[altrodent]

Sundress

Pairing: Abner Krill x reader

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, slight NSFW, little make-outish, friends with benefits, lots of flirting from other characters (besides Abner), PDA (Public Display of Affection)

Summary: Abner was living a totally “normal” life… until he saw his best friend in a sundress. ❤️‍🔥

(PS: does this photo look small out of editing (like when it’s posted) or is it just me??)

It was a rare occasion that The Suicide Squad would get to go on a badass mission to save the world. This wasn’t the first time, but the last mission of just tracking a small drug cartel wasn’t as fun as your current mission.

“Operation: Sun n’ Gun” Waller announced, the current mission list consisted of Harley Quinn, Bloodsport, Peacemaker, Ratcatcher 2, King Shark, Rick Flag, Polkadot man, and you! This was your first mission with everyone, except for Polka-dot man. As amazing as it was, you two had actually grown more together in prison, seeing as he was the only one able to get you to come out of hiding.

“Question-“ “No questions until I say so, Christopher. Your mission is to uncover a cult that plans on summoning some sort of Kathulu like demon from the ocean. As ridiculous as that sounds, I’m sure you’ve seen the human-sized weasel, so don’t think about the demon too much. Any questions?” Chris raises his hand, Waller ignores him and calls on Bloodsport, “How the hell are we gonna blend in, in a place like that?” He makes hand gestures towards himself, with the way everyone is dressed, he has a point. “We have that covered, and if we don’t have any more questions, we can get you all suited up and dropped down there.” She turns off the projector as we all make our way to a room, with in which eight people stand, each with a costume bag. They’re a thick white material so you don’t see what’s underneath “Jesus, do we really need to dress up?” Bloodsport groans, Waller taps your shoulder to give you the signal to let her through “It’s necessary if you don’t want me to eradicate you. Now, they will hand you the outfit, then your will get changed and head straight to the drop ship. Are we clear?” She eyes everyone, her eyes landing on your “You will need extra time, seeing as you will be distractor number one, understand?” Your brows furrow “Distra- what do you mean?” She sighs, “talk and walk, I’ll discuss it with you while you change. The rest of you, hurry up, and get dressed out.”

“So what’s this about me being distractor number one?” You step into a small dressing room, closing the curtain behind you. “As shocking as it may seem, the cult leader is obsessed with women, and with various amounts of research into his ‘type’ I felt as if you were the best candidate.” You open the bag “Is this a dress?” She leans against the changing room “I asked most of my men what they think women on the beach look most attractive in, and while I expected them to say ‘Skimpy Bikini’s’ or even nothing at all, the majority said Sundresses. Strange, but they know what would happen if they were to lie to me, so I trust their responses.” You exhale, loud enough for Waller to hear “I’ve done some fucked shit, but this is probably the weirdest thing I’ve ever done... or wore.” You turn it around looking at it from every angle, it isn’t even on you and you’re already concerned. “Look if anything happens, everyone else will be there to help… especially Abner Krill, he seems to have taken a liking to you.” You laugh a little bit “Feelings mutual.” You mumble to yourself, biting the inside of your lip just thinking about him, he’s cute, quiet, and as thrilling as you could ever imagine. He would sneak off and find you during free time, and if he feels like it, maybe gets a little touchy. But after two arms through the sleeves, the sundress is on “holy shit…” you step out, the only person left, looking more than perfect. You could almost see a slight smile forming at the corners of Wallers mouth “You’re ready. Hurry up and get on the drop ship. You have work to do.” You nod and quickly hurry to the ship. It’s fitting in all the right places, short in the most flattering way, and god damn you had to admit you looked hot.

“Woah.” “Holy shit!” “What happened to you?” You hop onto the drop-ship, everyone inside staring, even Colonel Flag of all people. Your face turns red from embarrassment, but there’s just something you can’t seem to not notice. Krill is sitting there, just looking at you. While he normally smiles once you spot him and then look away awkwardly, he is just staring. From shoulders, to thighs, he just can’t seem to get enough. You sit next to Abner, his eyes still scanning over your body. Cleo, Harley, and even King Shark still spewing compliments, “You look very nice in the dress!” “You’re so hot, OMG! We could be like- twins!” “PRETTY FLOWERS”, and you delivering them back. Peacemaker making inappropriate remarks, while Bloodsport just makes quick peaks with undeterminable facial expressions. You still turn back and see Abner, not looking at you. You gently graze your fingers over his hand, “Hey, you doing okay?” His head shoots up, as he was recovering from his daze. “Uh- yeah-“ he gazes finally meets yours and he offers you a soft smile. Peacemaker laughs way too loudly “He totally wants to bang!” Abner looks away, ashamed “Don’t worry Polka-man, I would too, trust me-“ you shoot Chris the most painful daggers, “What? It’s a compliment, ever heard em?” You grimace “Chris, I will shove this umbrella so far up your ass, I swear” Flag stammers into the conversation, “I will say you look very nice.” You smile, “Thank You, Colonel Flag.” He smiles back, Chris pouting in his seat.

The drop-ship lands and quickly lets you all off. “So we just have to stay on the beach all night and wait for the cult to arrive?” Flag asks Waller, “Yes, and remember if you deviate-“ “We lose our heads…” you all say in unison. “Well, we get to have a fun day in the sun before we uncover a cult.” Flag says, grabbing some of the luggage. “Did Waller provide these?” Cleo asks, “Nope, I just don’t want to be bored for however the hell long the cult takes.” Bloodsport and King Shark grab the rest of the stuff before everyone else goes ahead. “After you” Flag winks at you, you blush. You go ahead and catch up with Abner “Hey” he smiles at you, biting the inside of his lip. You lean your head against his shoulder “Hey, you feeling better?” He nods “Yeah, sorry… it’s just rare to see you out of orange. You look…” you can hear his breath hitch as he tries to avoid looking at you. “Stunning.” He says trying to hide an oncoming smile. Getting a random burst of confidence, you shoot back “Well you can look at me as much as you want before the mission really starts” you can hear Cleo “oooh” to her rat, Sebastian. He mumbles, “I’d like to do more than look.” You genuinely didn’t hear what he said, but it couldn’t have been that important… right?

After about 30 minutes of walking through the jungle, you reach the beach and set up. Immediately, you realize the only fault of the disguise… you can’t swim. There wasn’t a bathing suit or anything in there, so unless you want to strip, you can’t get in the beautiful, clear water. You pout, laying on your beach towel. Although you wouldn’t really care just swimming in your undergarments, Chris had to be creepy and say ‘he wouldn’t mind seeing that’, which earned him a slap across the face. After a minute of pouting someone sits next to you, casting a light shadow on you. You look up to see him, “Abner, you don’t have to stay up here. Go, swim and have fun.” He leans back on his hands “They’re doing their own thing. Besides, I don’t want you to be lonely.” You smile, as you sit up be at his eye-level. And with a burst of, what can only be assumed as lust, Abner’s hand quickly reaches to yours, and his hands wander mindlessly. “Abner-“ his face leans in close to yours “yes?” His breath clashing with your own, his hand finding its way to your thigh. “What about the others?” His lips inching towards yours “I don’t give a shit what they do anymore.” His open hand reaches for your face as his lips clash with yours, and you’re down for the count. Your lips melt into his, and his hand that was placed on your thigh makes its way up to your waist. He earns a pleased moan from you that echos between your mouths. You can’t hear the others whispers over the sounds of the waves, but like Abner said, you don’t give a shit what they do anymore. Your back reaches the towel and Abner quickly starts to slightly hover over you. Once he pulls away, he starts leaving kisses around your jaw and neck. He loves the way your legs squirm when he touches the right spots. Your arms slowly work their way up his caging arms. “Abner…” he hums as his lips make their way down your arm and to your thigh. Your arms retract to hide your blush ridden face, his lips slowly growing closer and closer to the inside of your sundress. Hands wandering, heat rising, situation escalating. He pulls away before he goes too far, and holds your head in his hands “If I see any of them looking at you the way only I’m supposed to, I’ll do something rash.” He says calmly. “I won’t let them.” You both slowly sit up, as he gently moves you to his lap. “You’ve been praising me this whole time Krill, and I haven’t gotten a chance to do the same for you.” You pout, he leans his forehead against his “Don’t worry about it, love. I like seeing you in this… and in this way.” His almost liquor laced words keep making you want to come back for more, but you have to resist as much as you don’t want to. “Yes, but I like seeing you like this too. I’ve never seen you in just shorts before… I must admit, it’s much better seeing you this close.” You tease, he smiles shyly. “Maybe after this mission, if Waller lets us go… we could have our own beach date?” You cup his face in your hands, “Abner Krill, are you asking me out on a date?” He averts his gaze, as if he didn’t just ravish you on the beach in front of others. “W-well, I mean if-“ you bring a finger to his lips “I’m just teasing, Abs, I would love to go on a date with you.” His gaze returned to you, seemingly melting with love. “Words can’t describe how much I cherish you, love.”

You lean in before someone touches your shoulder “Sorry, Krill, but the Cult leader arrived, and we need your lover girl to go for him.” He pouts, as Flag helps you up. “I’ll be safe, Abner. I have You after all” You send him a smile before straightening the dress out.

“So, I just go over there, hope he’s seduced by me and get intel?” Flag nods “yep.” You give him a confused look “But why me, and not Harley or Cleo?” He straightens his posture “Well, out of all of us, you’re exactly his type. And if I may say, you do look very nice, so it should work.” You grimace “I don’t even wanna know how you figured out his ‘type’ of woman.” He seethes “You really don’t but, you’re ready just walk past him.” You fix your hair, puff out your sundress, and you saunter your way past him. He isn’t attractive, to say the least. Hell, you probably would’ve gotten with TDK before him. He’s scrawny, but has some muscles. Hair is probably the best feature, but has a hideous open scar on his face. You don’t stare too long, but as soon as you look away, he whistles “Hey there, Pretty Kitty, c’mere!” You walk over to him, and he’s basically foaming at the mouth when you walk up to him. “Well, what brings a pretty thing like you to this here beach?” You fake giggle “I just like the way the sun feels on my skin… why, should I be here for something else?” He leans in closer to you, as if he wasn’t a tiny bit terrifying to begin with he was humongous, at least 6’11. “Why don’t you come sit with me, I want to get to know you better” he holds out a hand for you to take, the pungent smell of old beer on his tongue. You take his hand, scared to see what he might do next “I’d like that.” He smiles “Good girl.” You want to barf, if anyone was going to call you that it’d be Abner… but we’re not gonna talk about that. He guides you to sit on his lap “Don’t be shy, now, baby. I won’t bite… unless you want me to.” His tongue, abnormally reptile shaped, you begin to wonder if he’s even human himself. Still, you keep up the act, giggling and blushing at his creepily “flirty” passes. “Take me out to dinner first” you drape your arms around his shoulders, “I can do a lot of things on a first date, baby.” He winks at you. Barf, gross, Ew, no, thank you. “Oh really… could you show me?” He smiles with an evil grin “I’d show you but we’d have to go somewhere more discreet.” You sigh, luckily your radio is on, so flag understands his signal. “What would you show me?” He leans in close to your ear, his hot breath tingling the peach fuzz on your face, all you can think about right now is Abner, how you want him to save you from this god awful mission “Whatever you want me to show you.” You lean into him, trying not to break character “Oh, my…” he chuckles before standing up with you still in his arms. He makes his way to the forest before he gets shot down by Bloodsport… and Chris too. The screams of other beach visitors echoing in the air, the beach eventually being fully cleared. He looks up at me with some of his final breath, “You fucking- you set me up whore!” You take one of his nearby beer bottles and break it on his head “I did, and you enjoyed it too!” You take the rest of the bottle and stab it through his chest. “Fuck! That guy sucks!” Quickly you’re scooped into a pair of arms, arms extremely familiar. “I’m so glad you’re safe. He didn’t hurt you right?” Abner checks your face for wounds “I’m okay, Abbie, I’m okay.” He holds you for a second before looking behind you in horror “What’s wrong-?” You’re cut off by the distant sound of chanting and eventually a giants roar. “No fucking way-“

“Are you kidding me?!” Everyone groans “I thought they needed their leader??” You drag your face with your hands before Waller comes back on the comms “Apparently, what you just did, is make their leader the sacrifice. I was hoping the sacrifice was just going to be our lovely Agent here, but whatever. Kill the demon and the cult members.” You’re furious “I’m sorry, re-fucking-peat what you just said?” Cleo gasps “She was trying to sacrifice you!” You turn to Flag “Did you know about this?!” He puts his hands up “I swear to god, I didn’t, you know that!” You huff “I don’t give a shit, I’m killing all of them, and when I am done, you better pray to whatever gods you all believe in that I don’t come back and kill the rest of you.” You argue, walking away… before quickly coming back “Okay, maybe not by myself, but- just come on!”

Operation: Sun n’ Gun: Successful!

Flying back to the prison, ready to be released was the best feeling. Well besides laying on Abner, and him being the most comfortable thing in your life. After your releasing, you did go on the beach date. It was quiet, empty, and most importantly; romantic. Now it was just you two against the world, and you both loved every minute of it.

~

(A/N): I’ve been meaning to write him for a hot minute, and with the sundress season coming up I couldn’t get him and his slutty man face out of my head 🤭 Anywaysssss… I hope you enjoyed! 🩷

[memento-mori-twilight]

Looking at the villians they had for My Adventures with Superman,

They honestly picked the best choices they could for a Season 1 rogues gallery.

Think about it (way too much detail below):

They didn't want to dip too far into multiverse and multidimensional villians, outside of Mxyztplk to introduce the concept, so they couldn't pull out Ultraman or Superboy/man Prime (who needs a Crisis Event to even exist properly if they want to do him nicely and that's a whole other can of worms).

They couldn't introduce Kryptonite soon enough for Metallo or Conduit to be relevant, and Metallo also kinda needs Lexcorp to exist beforehand (unless they wanna go with the military origin version who doesn't need Lex).

Conduit also requires an intense murderous rivalry with Clark from Smallville, which how they have made Clark Kent in this iteration, wouldn't make sense. What would he be pissed over, Clark beating him at a chess tournament?!?

Bizarro also comes from Lex's machinations having been a failed clone he created.

Aliens are *not* a common thing known, so intergalactic villains like Darkseid, Lobo, Mongol, and Zod aren't ones to form as threats until Clark knows what Krypton even is, or at least has a vague kind of idea.

We also don't have STAR Labs (yet) and barely have an evil form of Cadmus Labs (sincw they kinds blend in with Task Force X)

Honestly on that front, they did great reworking to have Parasite and Intergang in here as threats, since their origins/threat levels are often tied to Darkseid. Pairing them with Silver Banshee and Ivo were smart in that regards.

And yeah, I can hear the complaints already about Banshee not being a Metahuman and Livewire not being a Shock Jock, but metahumans being a thing not originating from a hush hush experiment from the military (as Episode 9 suggests is happening with Leslie) wouldn't work with how they formed Jimmy's story arc.

On top of that, Silver Banshee was born of magic shenanigans, and introducing that weakness before his more famous one of glowy rock with no known helpful magical allies would have been a major misstep, because that would essentially leave Clark no way to counter and win. She could still mess around with magic angle later in, though, after getting a taste of the power via the tech. (And maybe her sparking a romance with Jimmy, eh?)

As for Livewire not being a Shock Jock, that requires the fact of Superman being previously established as a hero in Metropolis for a time for there to be news about him (and a prominent radio station in Metropolis for Leslie to get zappy-zapped by radio tower after getting fired), which wouldn't work since the show's story makes it clear that Lois and Jimmy are the first ones to encounter him. {Also going the influencer angle wouldn't make sense for her getting electric powers because how would she get zapped while uploading vids on YouTube? Wifi or 5G doesn't work like that.}

Therefore, blending them in with Waller's proto-Suicide Squad of criminals and Sam Lane's distrustful actions against Nemesis Omega all wrapped in a military/government jingoistic bow was a smart move to not make some major potholes for the purpose of story direction. And making them have powers from repurposed Kryptonian tech also equals the unspoken question of "how is Superman constantly getting his ass beat?"

The only other real "Superman" villians they would have room left to mess with would be Toyman, the Atomic Skull, Ultra-humanite, Titano, Chemo, Bloodsport, the Prankster, Volcana (who is barely a villian and is more a victim of circumstance), Mr. Zed, and Manchester Black (depending how they implement them). And we very well may see many of them in Season 2, along with some of the ones from above, now that Kryptonite and the Multiverse exists now and Brainiac and other Krypton survivors have been teased.

They did their best with what they had left to work with, if they wanted to give us the beautiful characterizations and story beats we got in the first place.

Anyway, that's my piece on the villians, why they chose the ones they did, and why they were tech based instead of their other origins, and what ones they could mess with in Season 2 maybe.

Thanks if you read this whole thing, you're a real one for hearing me out.

[scarlet-star-witch]

Empty Promises

Rick Flag x Female Reader

AN: So I watched The Suicide Squad and became a full on hoe. I might also be writing for Bloodsport because Idris Elba is sexy as hell too and I have no self control 

Summary: He promised his wife and daughter a safe return at each mission, but this time, he worried it would finally become a lie. 

Word Count: 2090

~~

Mission Briefing. 8 AM sharp.

The text glared back at him like a bully. Rick let out a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. The last thing he wanted to do that day was lead a bunch of wayward criminals on a deadly mission.

He could hear their laughter downstairs and it made his chest tighten. He’d have to break the bad news… again. 

He put his tactical gear on and gathered his things as slow as he could, as if he could delay the inevitable. Trudging his way down the stairs with heavy footsteps, he could already hear the sounds of cartoons playing on the tv and the delightful sound of his daughter’s giggles. 

It physically pained him to leave, but Waller left him no choice. 

“Hi Daddy!” 

He perked up instantly, a wide smile growing easily as his daughter jumped off the couch and ran towards him excitedly. He caught her racing form easily and hauled her up into his arms, his heart melting at the way she wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

“Hey, Cutie Pie, how’d you sleep?” 

“Good.”

“No monsters under your bed?”

“Nope! Mommy said you scared them all away.”

Rick grinned and kissed the top of her head. “I told you I would.” His eyes moved across the room to find his wife and his smile fell when he noticed the look on her face as she eyed him in his uniform. 

She knew what was coming.

“Why don’t you get back to your show, ok?” He said to his daughter softly. She nodded eagerly, squirming to get out of his grip, already forgetting her dad’s affection at the prospect of her favourite cartoon.

Rick approached his wife slowly, almost mournfully and he wracked his brain on how to spin this into something more positive, something that wouldn’t break her heart again.

But she beat him to it.

“When do you leave?”

“Now. I gotta be there in an hour.” 

“How long will it be this time?” 

“I dunno.”

“But you’ll be here for Monday, right?”

Rick bowed his head and she let out a long exhale of annoyance. 

“Rick, it’s her first day of school. You know how excited she is, you can’t miss it.”

“I know, I know. I’m gonna do what I can, ok?” He wrapped his arms around her waist and she leaned into him, resting her head on his chest. “I’m not missing this, not for anything.”

She nodded, though she knew it was out of his control. “Be careful.” 

Rick smiled and leaned down, kissing her fiercely. She moaned against him, trying hard not to smile against his lips and ruin his perfect kiss. He pulled away, much too soon for his liking - but careful not to scar their daughter for life - and he held her cheeks in his large hands gently, pressing his forehead against hers.

“I’m gonna do everything I can to get back to you, I promise.” 

“You better.”

“Darling, I promise you, I’m comin’ home and I’m gonna be there for her first day.”

Like always, it was an empty promise. He could never guarantee his safe return, but he promised her every time because, dammit, he was going to do everything humanly possible to get back to this perfect life he managed to create throughout the chaos of his job.

The empty promise he gave her had never been so glaringly obvious as it was just a few hours later. The mission had turned to shit quicker than he had ever seen. Blackguard’s betrayal, the rapid gunfire, the decimation of his team, it all seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. 

He thought of his girls waiting for him back home as he fired back at the enemy. He thought of his wife, the way she would curl up beside him in bed, needing his touch. He’d never felt so wanted before. 

He thought of their daughter, the way she lit up when she saw him, making his heart burst with a love he didn’t even know could exist.

Their smiling faces flashed through his mind, fueling him to move forward, more determined than ever to make it out alive.

~~

The next day, as he sat with his saviours, the resistance fighters, he decided it was time to call Waller and tap out of the failed mission.

“Waller, I need immediate extraction. The team is dead, the mission is over.”

“That’s not your call to make, Flag.”

He grit his teeth, forcing himself to move past the immediate desire to curse out the horrible woman. She had been manipulating him for too long, he was over it. He just wanted to be back home with the love of his life and their child.

“You can’t control me like them, Waller, you don’t have a bomb in my head.”

“No, but I know about your family.”

His blood ran hot, his entire body going rigid at the casual force in her voice. The thought of his family being used as cannon fodder, used to manipulate him, made him feel sick to his stomach. He had tried his hardest to keep his personal life from his job, to prevent this very situation.

He should have known better than to have underestimated his boss. 

“Excuse me?” He growled, getting to his feet and beginning to pace angrily.

“Your wife, your daughter, they belonged to me the moment they became a part of your life.” Waller threatened, pulling out her big guns to keep her top colonel in place. “Your daughter, she’s starting kindergarten Monday, Ms. Tate’s class. I’d hate for something to jeopardize that young girl’s future.”

“If you do anything to hurt my family, I swear-”

“Finish the mission, Flag.”

The call ended and Rick yelled out a curse, throwing the phone as far as he could, watching in satisfaction as it hit a tree and shattered to pieces. 

~~

Days passed with nothing but radio silence. She stared at her phone, willing it to ring, to finally put her out of her misery. 

Even with the risk of his job, Rick always found a way to keep in contact with her. It definitely wasn’t Waller approved, hence the reason for buying a shitty burner phone to send assuring and sometimes dirty messages to her throughout his missions. But she hadn’t heard anything since that last text the day he left.

Heading to the jet now. Counting down the minutes until I see you again. Love you xx

She reread the text over and over again, hoping it wouldn’t be the last piece of him she’d ever get. 

She was just thankful their daughter was at a playdate for the day and didn’t have to see her in this state. She didn’t want to worry the girl, but she was running out of explanations for where her daddy was.

Rick kept telling her he was done, that whatever mission he was leaving for would be his last, but he kept getting pulled back in. Another empty promise. 

~~

The worn picture was pulled out of his pocket, the passing streetlights allowing just a brief glimpse of their beautiful faces every few seconds. 

He smiled lightly, his heart aching. He would never get used to this feeling, missing them was something he never wanted to experience again. 

“Who are they?”

Rick flinched, shoving the picture back into his pocket safely and sent a glare back to Ratcatcher who was leaning over the back of his seat, her eyes alight with intrigue.

“No one.”

“The woman was very beautiful.” 

“Who’s beautiful?” Peacemaker asked, his head raising excitedly. 

“Rick’s wife. He has a picture.” Ratcatcher called out excitedly, now gaining the attention of the rest of the members on the bus. 

“She’s- fuck, I didn’t say she was my wife.” 

“Is she not?” 

Rick just sighed, avoiding the many curious eyes on him. His silence was enough of an answer in defeat. The criminals around him suddenly became raucous with excitement. 

“You didn’t tell me you got hitched.” Bloodsport accused, sounding slightly offended.

“Let me see.” Peacemaker demanded, holding out his hand for the picture, which Rick batted away with a scowl. 

“There was a little girl, too.” 

“What?! You have a kid?!” Bloodsport yelled in shock. 

“More friends?” Nanaue asked and Ratcatcher nodded eagerly, a brilliant grin on her face. 

“Ok, seriously, can I see this woman? Is she hot?”

“How did you meet her?”

“How old is your daughter?” 

“What are their names?” 

“Can we meet them?”

“No one is meeting my family!” Rick yelled, putting an end to the cacophony of questions fired his way. “In case you’ve forgotten, you all are criminals… in prison. I’m not letting my kid get anywhere near this shit.” 

“Aww, such a protective daddy, that’s so sweet.” Ratcatcher gushed. Rick glared at her fiercely and she pursed her lips, hiding her smile and turning to Polkadot man to share a secret, stifled laugh. 

After his blow up, the rest of the team slunk back to their seats in defeat, whispering amongst themselves, conjuring up any kind of gossip about Rick’s family they could get. 

Bloodsport sighed and moved to sit next to Rick. He could tell the colonel was annoyed, with the incessant questions and with the separation of his loved ones. 

“Can I see?” 

Rick sighed and reached into his pocket, handing his friend the picture. If he could trust anyone, it would be DuBois. Their history together was the only thing to persuade him to allow the man the trust to see his family.

Bloodsport’s lips twitched, fighting a smile at the sight of the two smiling faces that greeted him. “They’re beautiful.” 

Rick nodded, a faraway look in his eyes. He could feel his emotions bubbling, getting dangerously close to the surface. He cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from the picture that was becoming too hard to look at. 

Bloodsport watched his expression carefully, having a pretty damn good idea at what he was thinking and more importantly, what he was fearing. He clapped a hand on his shoulder steadily, looking at his friend intently. 

“I’m getting you back to them.” 

Rick hoped to god, that wasn’t another empty promise. 

~~

“When is Daddy coming home?”

“I don’t know, Sweetie. Hopefully soon.”

“But he’s been gone forever.” The toddler whined dramatically. 

The exaggeration wasn’t something she disagreed with. It had been barely a few days, but it felt like weeks. She didn’t know what to say to her daughter, she didn’t know how to ease her mind anymore. 

Her father’s absence wasn’t something she could soothe.

“Why don’t you sit down, I’ll get you some lunch.”

With the newest distraction in place, she got to work preparing a meal, trying her hardest to get her husband out of her head. 

But it was useless.

“Daddy!” 

The scream of excitement from her daughter made her jump and she turned on her heel, her wide eyes finding her husband standing in the room. He was filthy, he was exhausted, he was bleeding, but he was here.

Rick hugged his daughter tightly, burying his face in her hair that tickled his nose. He felt his eyes sting, his breathing becoming laboured as he fought hard not to burst into tears. He’d held it after his near death, he held it during the entire trip back, but the second his little angel was back in his arms, he broke.

He opened his eyes, his gaze finding his wife who stood with her mouth agape in shock, tears already streaming down her cheeks. He reluctantly let his daughter down and, without taking his eyes off the love of his life, he strode across the room and wrapped her in a fierce hug. 

He thought of how close he had come to not returning to them. He thought of Peacemaker and the damn piece of tile that had almost ruined it all. And he held her tighter, sniffling and whispering how much he loved her.

“How- how did- when did you-” She stammered in a daze. He pulled back, cradling her face in his hands, looking down at her with reverence.

“I’m done. I’m out.” 

“W-what?”

“I got out. I’m done with the job, I’m done with Waller.” 

Her face broke out into a wide, relieved smile and he couldn’t resist any longer, crashing his lips to hers fiercely, kissing her deeply. 

And for the first time, his words were not an empty promise. 

~~

Part 2 here! xx

[himbovillain-anon]

I saw these two asks and my lazy ass found a way to combine the two together 😈

Also this is an everybody lives au lmao

Putting up w/ the squad's bullshit

You were never a fighter on the front lines when it comes to working with the suicide squad, but you still played a vital part as the team’s lead medic

The majority of people in both teams suffered relatively significant injuries, it was likely for all of them to survive, but very few of them were actually in a jovial mood

In fact, everyone was quite literally bickering their heads off

Boomerang was mad at blackguard for selling the team out, bloodsport was annoyed with peacemaker for trying to keep the information, harley was just trying to figure out what the hell TDK’s ability was, and no one knows why thinker was even with the group

Either way, it was a mess of criminals arguing with criminals about the whole situation

You were bandaging a few bullet wounds on javelin when you heard the sound of a gunshot

Turns out the argument escalated when bloodsport made fun of peacemaker's tighty whities and now you have to try and restrain everyone from murdering each other (again)

Hearing the commotion from the other room, colonel flag immediately stepped in and shot down the whole argument with just a few words, it was almost funny how all it took for the guy was to tell everyone to get their shit together for them to actually get their shit together

Turning towards you, it wasn't the first time that rick apologized for the mayhem that was caused by his teammates, but considering the fact he's the only normal one you could talk to, you didn't mind the company

You continued your work while flag was discussing the next mission with the rest of the group, you were sewing up an injury on boomerang's face when the criminal asked if you and rick were dating

The abrupt question came to a surprise to you, as you never really thought about it in that sort of sense, but you knew that rick was a good man who most likely needed a break from the bullshit that was the suicide squad

You turned around and noticed harley talking to rick, opting to eavesdrop in on the chat, you heard a very similar conversation to the one you had with boomerang

Apparantly harley has been egging on flag to ask you out as well

From the looks of it, it appears that he's got a bit of a crush on you

You sighed and continued your work, secretly hoping that rick would take harley's advice

[babblydrabbly]

Talk to Me (Bloodsport x Reader) Smut

Pairing(s): Robert DuBois/Bloodsport x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut. Language. Semi-established relationship. Masturbation (m and f). Phone sex. Degradation. Exhibitionism. Dom!Robert. Ex-Vigilante!Reader. ]

Wordcount: 1.5k+

[ A/N: If Idris Elba ever talked to me through a phone I would simply die. Post TSS 2021. ]

Belle Reve never stopped you and Robert from staying in contact with each other. But now that he’s out, the two of you enjoy your conversations with a little more privacy. — Just a little.

You smother your grin before it can fully form, putting your ringing phone to your ear.

“I think you’re liking this whole unlimited talk and texting thing too much.” You say as your greeting.

You can practically hear Robert shrug over the line, the smile on his face clear from thousands of miles away. “Lots of shit I’m still catching up on.”

He was out. He wouldn’t tell you how, only that he was free and clear of Louisiana now. He wouldn’t come to Metropolis, though; Too stupid an idea after what landed him in Belle Reve in the first place. Your eyes flicker over to your office door, making sure it’s shut before leaning back in your chair.

He’d never tell you; Never admit that those prison calls he spared you? He wasn’t exactly running out of minutes on the inside like he said he was. Besides the occasional check ups from Tyla’s mom (And a Christmas or Birthday phone call from Tyla herself when forced), Robert wasn’t exactly…popular. He let the months slide in between before giving you another ring— told himself the next one would be the last one— and for why, he still didn’t even know.

Maybe it was because you kept picking up without missing a beat. Or maybe it was the way you had never let the conversation lull into an awkward silence, that tainting background noise on Robert’s end reminding you both where he was; Where he landed himself. You talked his ear off about your days as a fucking HR officer of all things just to take up all his phone time. Really? Human Resources? He loved to tease you about that career shift.

Fuck off, you had smiled.

You wanted to ask him all the things that would make him clam up, hang up. But you didn’t. You wanted him to keep calling you back. So you rambled, more than you ever did when the two of you crossed paths back when he was rogue. Rob stood there by the phone box with his hand shoved into his stupid jumpsuit pocket, making sure he didn’t look like he was enjoying every minute of it.

You fiddle absentmindedly with the pens laid out on your desk now. “You find a place yet?”

He grumbles. There’s a din on his end, like he might be in a cafe or restaurant. “You’re obsessed.”

You twirl in your chair, “An apartment would do wonders for that homeless problem you’ve got going on.”

“And how am I gonna get one of those.”

“Shit, DuBois, I don’t know. I need to teach you how to use Craigslist now?”

He scoffs, and you hear him move around. The clamor of his somewhere disappears, and you can listen to him better now. “I didn’t call for another one of your lectures, dove.”

“No? So why did you?” Your voice dips down into a murmur.

It’s lunchtime in Metropolis. You wonder if it’s day or night wherever he is.

“Think I might miss you.” He rumbles.

You let yourself grin openly this time, ducking your head.

"You at work?" He asks, and you feel your heart flutter. Your chair creaks as you get up to cross the room when Robert stops you.

"Don't you dare lock that door, dove. I want you on edge." He says in your ear. You take a seat again, biting your bottom lip.

"You're terrible." You mutter, and Robert chuckles. You try to picture him— try to imagine him leaning against the wall of some bathroom or back entrance somewhere, his ear pressed closed to his phone to hear every little sound you make.

"Yeah? And you're going to slide a hand between your thighs."

You take a breath as you do what he says, you eyes locking on your office door. There's no windows for anyone to peer in, but the carpet flooring will muffle anyone who might forget to knock. You let the pad of your middle finger slip between your legs, caressing the seam of your slacks languidly.

It happened once or twice back at Belle Reve; On the rare occasion when stars aligned, when there were no other inmates taking calls and the guards were willing to look the other way, Robert found a way to make you come even with miles between you. Sometimes you still wished it was like before— The games you played as a vigilante chasing a mercenary across cities, countries even.

Robert pulls you from your reminiscent thoughts. "What would those fucking idiots you call coworkers think if they found you touching yourself in your little office, hm?"

You feel the heat rush to your cheeks, pressing your fingers to your clothed center firmer. "Think they'd be surprised I had genitalia at all." You mutter.

He laughs at that, and his baritone sends goosebumps across your skin.

"You got one of those button ups on?" He prods. Your hand is shooting up to your blouse, fingers flitting over the buttons as you nod.

"Mhm."

"Good. I want your tits out while you fuck yourself, Officer HR."

You whimper a little as you slip your hand into your open blouse, then your bra. You gasp as your touch brushes over your nipple, feeling it stiffen beneath your fingers. There's no pretending you're not doing what someone will think you're doing in here now. A patch of warm wetness spreads across your panties as you give yourself another tweak at the thought.

"Fuck. Y'sound sweet as ever, [Y/n]." Rob sighs. Your name in your ear has you shivering.

You hear the faintest rustle of clothing over the phone.

"What are you doing?" You ask quietly, wetting your lips.

"Me? I'm on that stupid job app you made me download looking for some shit civilian job like yours."

You stifle your laugh. The sullen grump was always bothering to make you laugh. Squeezing your thighs together, you shift around in your chair, feeling that wetness spreading.

Robert relents, his voice deep. "I'm picturing you on your knees for me, dove. You like that? Getting caught sucking me off over here?"

You imagine your lips parting for his hard cock in your hand, the warm, solid feeling of him pushing into your mouth. You sigh as you let your eyes flutter closed for a moment and try to get lost in the image.

"I know you would." He answers for you. "Know a whore when I feel her around my cock."

"Rob." You whisper. You hand goes down to your slacks again and you flush at how loud the zipper is when you pull it down.

"Eager little slut." Robert growls. "Did I say anything about touching your cunt yet?"

It feels impossible, but you draw your hand back out of your pants before you can relieve any of the building heat between your legs. You ache as you let out a short whine, biting down on your lip.

"Miss burying my face between those fucking thighs. You know how often I think of those nights, [Y/n]?"

You shutter, the ghosting memory of his beard scratching up your inner thighs red and pretty flashing through your head." Yeah? Have to dig back to that long ago huh?"

The two of you didn't talk about other people. In the years he was gone, you never once mentioned dating or fucking around. You certainly didn't have time for it, and he, well. He was a little preoccupied with not dying in prison. The flash of wonder crosses your mind, much to your chagrin— He was out now. And he hadn't come to see you. Maybe he...

"Yeah," He murmurs, like he knows why you're pausing. "No one else 'round I wanna think of."

It could be a lie, but you're flushing again at the hope it's not.

"Hope you're still wet for me, dove. Cuz I'm hard as all fucking hell for you."

You can't take it anymore. Shoving your hand under the band of your panties you moan as your fingers dip past your slick folds— Right over your aching clit.

"There you go." He praises, "That feel good, darling?"

You let out a choked whimper and hope it sounds like a yes. You circle your finger around the swollen bundle of nerves, your head falling back against your chair. You will yourself to remember the feeling of his tongue on you, mimicking the way he took you apart with it. It's a pale imitation, but his breath in your ear has your pulse quickening.

"Feel so good."

"Fuck." Robert groans softly. He lets go of a deep moan, and you know he's got a hand around his cock now, stroking himself as he listens to you. You twist your hand so that you can slip two fingers past your entrance, the flat of your palm still grazing your clit with every stroke. You sink your fingers in slowly, pumping them until that heat starts to build inside you.

"Wanna fuck that pretty whore mouth. That divine fucking cunt." He growls. "I'll have you on that desk— Mewling for your whole fucking floor to hear. You want that, [Y/n]? Want me fucking you right there, like the office slut?"

"Fuck, Robert." You sob. You place a foot up on one of your desk drawers, the angle allowing you to fuck yourself on your fingers harder. You spread your legs wide now, no longer caring about the door. You just need to come. Need him to make you come.

Robert swears under his breath when your panting breaths lace themselves with the keens that really get him going. He isn't going to come just yet— He liked hearing you come first— come undone just from his voice. The wet sound of your dripping sex fills your office, along with your tattered, muffled sobs.

"When I get there you're going to be screaming my fucking name, love." He says, and the mixed signals that shoot up your spine make you nearly buck up off the chair at the implication. It was no challenge at all to picture him there now— Picture him tongue fucking you, pounding you against the desk, riding him on this chair— All of it. Your heart leaps at the thought of really seeing him again, and your eyes roll up into the back of your head as you finally come, your orgasm tearing through you so suddenly you almost drop the phone.

After a few moments of listening to you come down from your high, the sly smile on the other end is abundantly obvious.

"Someone definitely heard that." He teases.

You sit up straight, quickly fixing your bra and shirt with your free hand.

"Shut up."

"See you soon, love." He says. And you realize he's making you a promise. The first in a long time. You pause from composing yourself, heart in your throat.

"Really?"

"Least I know the door will be unlocked."

"Lose my number, DuBois."

His laughter ends the call, and you finish your workday in high spirits.

[xbadgerbearx]

i hope so

pairing: Abner Krill x Reader

word count: 1.1k

warning: contains spoilers!!

note: Reader is gender neutral so everyone can enjoy :)

Can’t Sleep: … [2]

Damn, this is getting old.

There is no rest with Waller. Wake up, go on a mission, rest, rinse, and repeat. It was relatively early in the morning; the clock on the wall was the only indication that any time was passing. Any sunlight that was available was blocked out by walls and replaced with harsh artificial light. Taking your time getting out of bed, you observed yourself in the mirror that was embedded in the wall. You still looked a little rough from the last mission, but something tells you that Waller wouldn't care. Your clothes, or rather prison uniform, was wrinkled. As you stood up you smoothed out your shirt.

"Yellow... what an irritating color."

You were washing your face in the sink in the corner when the door opened with a loud creak. You finished rinsing your face before turning the faucet off with a sigh. It was Waller, but she had people with her. New teammates?

"This is (Y/n) (L/n), also known as Mimic. As the name implies, they can mimic almost anything. Every good team needs someone who specializes in stealth."

"Why the fuck do they get to wear different colored clothes? We running a fashion show here? Not to mention all the security 'round this cell," a voice I've never heard say. It was deep and rather soothing.

"It's a safety precaution," Waller answered. "We can't have a shapeshifter steal someone's identity and escape, so when they leave their cell they are constantly monitored. Their clothes are made out of a special material. That way they will always be visible, even when invisible."

"They can turn invisible?"

Ignoring the question, Waller called out, "Let's go (L/n). You've got a new mission."

Shuffling out of the cell, you were greeted with the sight of Christopher—Peacemaker—and Cleo—Ratcatcher II—as well as an unknown man and giant humanoid shark.

"How's it going, (L/n)?" Peacemaker asked, "Long time no see."

"Yeah yeah, it's as good as being in prison can be," you answered with a wave of your hand. "Cleo! Nice to see you," you smiled.

Cleo let out a small laugh before yawning. Sebastian waved his paw towards you in greeting.

Waller led the almost finished team towards another wing of the building before abruptly stopping in front of a cell.

"And finally, we have Abner Krill."

"What's that 'round his neck?" Bloodsport, or rather Robert DuBois you learned, asked.

Abner was standing in his cell with a bulky collar while waiting patiently to get it removed.

'He's cute,' you noted.

As he looked at his new team, his eyes fell on you. You visibly saw his breath hitch as he stared in your direction. You knitted your eyebrows in a questioning manner before turning your attention to Waller when she started talking again.

"A power dampener. They call him the Polka Dot Man."

Peacemaker scoffs. "Polka Dot Man. What's he do, throw polka dots at people?"

"Chris, you don't even have any powers so you can't talk," you scoffed back.

Before he could retort, Calendar Man made a rude comment towards the aloof man getting his collar removed, who, in return, looked down dejectedly. You felt a little bad. Calendar Man, or rather Julian Day, was honestly a laughing stock among the villains he associated himself with, so it was rather egotistical of him to make that comment.

"We need to debrief," Waller announced as she turned and walked away.

Before you went to debrief, she ordered everyone to change into their combat outfits. You each got to change into a small room, so that helped not making things potentially awkward. Your outfit was relatively simple and not attention grabbing; the opposite of Polka Dot Man. When walking out of the dressing rooms, Abner seemed to shrink into himself. Seeing you look at him, he let out a little laugh of embarrassment before gesturing to his attire.

With a playful smile, you laughed out, "I like it, I think it's cute," to which Abner responded with a blush dusting his face along with a bashful look.

"Everyone follow me," Waller announced with a loud authoritative voice.

She led everyone to a conference room before standing on a stage. Everyone seated themselves, you next to Cleo in the front, before Waller turned on the presentation. Unbeknownst to you, Krill had his eyes on you in curiosity.

"Corto Maltese is a small island nation off the coast of South America," Waller began. "Over the past 100 years, the country has been ruled with an iron fist by-" with a click the screen changed, "-the Herrera family. But, a week ago, this guy," click, "-General Silvio Luna, along with his right hand man, Mayor General Mateo Suarez," click, "-took control of the Corto Maltese government in a violent military coup. The entire Herrera family were hanged in a public execution," with another click a video started playing. Your jaw dropped a little at the sight. Waller continued, "Although the United States did not condone the excesses of the Herrera regime, they were non-antagonistic toward the U.S. Luna, however, is virulently anti-American."

"So you want us to kill Luna?" Peacemaker spoke out.

"No," Waller answered simply before resuming with another click. "This is Jotunheim. A scientific experimentation facility containing something known only as Project Starfish. Our intelligence sources tell us that Starfish is extraterrestrial in origin. In the hands of the Luna regime, it is potentially cataclysmic for Americans and the world." You could hear Abner shuffling in his seat uncomfortably. "Your mission is to infiltrate Jotunheim and destroy every trace of Project Starfish."

"How're we supposed to get in?" DuBois asked. A click was swiftly followed.

"Gaius Grieves, the Thinker, is a geneticist in charge of Project Starfish. After hours, he hangs out at a gentlemen's club known as La Gatita Amable. Get Grieves to help you by whatever means necessary and he can get you into Jotunheim." With one last click, the presentation was turned off. "Any questions?"

"What is that?" Ratcatcher II asked while pointing at a piece of old machinery sitting off to the side.

"That is an overhead projector."

"Do you ever use it anymore?"

"No, not really."

"So, why don't you just throw it away?"

With a sigh, Waller called on Peacemaker.

"Starfish is a slang term for butthole. Think there's any connection?"

You let out a loud laugh at the unexpectedness of the question.

"No," Waller answered before calling on Nanaue, who you learned was the shark from Chris.

"Hand."

You turned around to see King Shark pointing at his hand, fin, paw thing. You weren't too sure.

"Yes, that is your hand, Nanaue, very good."

"We're all gonna die," Bloodsport commented.

Polka Dot Man responded with, "I hope so." It was the first time you heard him speak; he had a nice and gentle voice. You liked it.

[omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts]

A Siren Song

Pairing: Robert Dubois/ Bloodsport x Reader

A/N: so I just finished watching the new Suicide Squad for the second time and I’m even more obsessed now than I was the first time I watched it. It’s a brilliant film with actually good humor, a non-sexualizing and actually empowering view on Harley Quinn (that leg scene?? y'all-), the rats?? Rat-catcher 2?? THE SHARK?? FLAG?? Who looked really good in this movie, he might be another contender for a story as well as Harley Quinn so lmk ;) but Bloodsport immediately piqued my interest because it’s Idris Elba and he’s gorgeous, I loved the complexities of his character and I want to write for him and no one else has done it yet?? so shoutout to @honey-im-emotional​​ for the support and push to do it! also love The Bodyguard movie, helped with the inspo <3 and i’m so sorry all of my stories are similar but I HAVE A TYPE enjoy and feedback is always appreciated loves and there will be SPOILERS so be warned, also if you want a Harley one next lmk ;) (it’s so long I’m so sorry lol)

Summary: You’re a highly targeted member of the royal family, the last in your line. Bloodsport is hired to be your bodyguard to both watch and assassinate the men after you. He believes it’s below his pay-grade, but reluctantly agrees, doing so to the best of his abilities. But the closeness brings more intimacy than you two expected, and sparks fly.

Warnings: foul language, sexual content, smut, choking, light bdsm, fluffy fluff, dirty dancing, dirty talk, violence and bad guys getting murdered, mentions of Harley x Reader (y’all sexy dance and kiss), reader likes women, dom! Bloodsport, age gap, alcohol consumption, jealousy, heavy kissing, slight angst, just a good time honestly

Word Count: 3,825

You dangle from the ceiling with your aerial silk, fitting your leg in the loop you’ve created, and dangling upside down. The rope wraps around your waist as you hang gracefully from your marble walls, flying. Your friend Harley Quinn taught you how to do this years ago, it now being your favorite form of exercise and relaxation when you need a moment to clear your head. 

As you lightly spin, twirling and dancing in the air with your chandelier reflecting light everywhere, a dazzling fairy floating in a sea of stars. You hear footsteps approach and move to hang upside down, facing towards the grand door. Robert Dubois, a.k.a Bloodsport, walks forward to stand directly in front of you. 

You have known him a few weeks or so now, him having to watch your every move and tracking down your family’s killers. He stands and meets your eyes as you dangle, hair falling below you.

“Hi,” you giggle, face flushed with heat. “I probably look ridiculous right now.”

He composes himself so he doesn’t crack a smile, but you see his lips twitch when he speaks, “No, Mrs. y/l/n.”

“I have a first name, you know,” you grin widely. “I’m younger than you, which hardly warrants such a professional title.”

“My apologies, y/n,” he fixes himself.

“It’s alright,” you ease, filling him with a sense of softness he hasn’t felt in a long time. You flip and land on your feet, letting go of your silks. 

You don’t notice as his eyes glaze over your body in your sports bra and shorts, something his cold, calculated stare should never succumb to, but he does anyway and he kicks himself for doing it. You’re his client and should therefore remain as such, no conflict of interest or thoughts other than to protect. He didn’t want this job, hell, he still doesn’t know why he said yes. Maybe it was the money. Or maybe it was upon seeing you that first time, in that star-studded gown the night of a charity gala you were attending, the way the diamond littered fabric hung over your figure, absolutely dazzled. The way you looked at him and smiled, like you were used to with all the other nobles and adoring fans. But he let himself believe it was different.

He can’t do that anymore, however, because he can’t allow for any complications. And falling for his boss is certainly a complication. 

You look at him and your eyes widen with realization, “Oh, I’m sorry. Let me cover up.”

You grab a tee shirt and toss it over your exercise clothes. He looks down as you do so and clears his throat. This brings a small smile to your face.  

“You called me in here,” he gestures to the necklace charm hanging around your neck that you can squeeze and send an instant distress signal whenever you need it. “What can I do for you, y/n?”

“Wanted you to spot me,” you tease, a smile overtaking your delicate features. You have a sort of stunning beauty about you that takes him by surprise every time he lays eyes on you. Which is often. You lay on your yoga mat and sit up straight with that same damned smile. 

“I’m here to do a job, y/n,” he says, his deep, honeyed voice coating the way he says your name like heat to sugar. “Not aid you in your workout routine.”

“What? Your assassin training didn’t include sit ups?” you smile, tongue in cheek.

“No, but if you need a way to kill a man with a book,” he presses a foot over both of yours as you begin to do sit ups. “Then I’m your man.”

“Yeah, you and John Wick,” you breathe out with a laugh. “And shouldn’t you be in here watching me already? Not by the door?”

“This room has no windows and no other door or entrance besides the one I was standing by. I thought you would want privacy,” he averts your gaze. “I’m sure it’s a hard thing to come by these days for a woman like yourself.”

You stop what you’re doing and look up at him, blinking, “Well, you’d be right,” you tuck your hair back. “So thank you.”

He meets your eyes, bordering on a smile, “You’re welcome.”

“Is that a smile I see?” you chuckle.

The smile shines, “It was a diversion. And you failed.”

You laugh loudly, “Will the next diversion be an actual laugh?”

“Wouldn’t be a proper diversion if you knew what it was.”

You tap his feet so he’ll get the hint and let you up. You rise to your feet and dust yourself up, “I appreciate your spotting.” You press a hand to his chest and hum. Warmth radiates from your palm and he inhales sharply. “For someone who wasn’t trained, you sure are a fast learner.”

He looks at your hand and back to your eyes, heat sprouting from where your hand touches. His hand flexes at his side as he looks around the room, to the door, seeing if it’s closed. 

“I-” he cocks an eyebrow then settles. “I think I should go.”

He watches you look at him with wounded eyes, brow lowered, you open your mouth then close it. 

You nod, moving away from him, “Right.”

You move to walk away when he stops you, mouth by your ear, voice dropping an octave when he whispers, “Just so you know-” you tilt your head up almost instinctively to hear him better. “-my assassin training did include reminding people who they are when they’ve forgotten their place.”

You look up at him fully now, “You work for me, remember?”

“I work for money. And you didn’t hire me. I was employed by Mrs. Waller to keep you alive,” he cocks his head slightly. 

“So it would be frowned upon by her when you’re unable to walk if you touch me like that again.”

You couldn’t believe he had just said that. Your eyes widen and your cheeks once again heat up, blushing. Your chest gets hot when he doesn’t break the stare like he’s calling your bluff, and fuck, did he do just that. You turn away from him.

You can hear the smile in his voice, “That’s what I thought.”

~~~

“Robert said that!?” Harley exclaims, eyes wide. Her jaw is dropped as she does her mascara aggressively in the mirror. “He’s usually so...”

You tug down your tiny halter top over your head, your bright, flattering makeup complementing the colorful swirling pattern, “An empty void with no emotion?”

She nods emphatically, agreeing, “Exactly! I had no idea he had it in him?” she raises her brow and smooths down her leather black and red dress, “Or that he wanted to put it in you-”

You slap her arm, chastising, “You don’t know that. It might have been a threat to actually paralyze me in a very not sexual way.”

“I say both are arousing,” she shrugs, platinum curls bouncing.

You roll your eyes with a small smile aimed at the floor, “Anyway-” you slip a belt through your tight jeans, hitting at your waist when you cinch it in. “We should get going if we want to get to the club on time.”

She pauses. “Y/n. Are you sure we should be doing this?”

You do a double take, “You’re telling me that we shouldn’t sneak out and have a good time?”

“I know the irony is apparent,” she looks at you with a knowing stare. “But not if it means you’re in danger. Which you are.”

“I know,” you frown. “But I’ve been locked in this house for months, I miss going out and having a life. I’m tired of being coddled.”

“I know, sweetheart,” she sighs, looking past herself in the mirror to flash me a sympathetic smile. She thinks for a beat and finally spins around, “Alright, screw it, doll, let’s go paint the town.”

You buzz with excitement, grinning, “Yay! Thank you, thank you! I wonder who will be djaying...” you trail off. 

Harley’s face falls and her mouth goes in a solid, straight line, looking past your shoulder, “I don’t think anyone will be.”

You laugh, completely oblivious, “Of course there will be. There has to be music. Dancing in silence would be pretty fucking awkward.”

“This moment is pretty fucking awkward.”

“What do you mean?”

A deep, irritated voice sounds off behind you, “Because you’re not going.”

You jump out of your skin, “Shit, Robert! You scared the hell out of me!”

“You’re not going to that club,” he folds his arms over his chest. You look over him and his casual, night wear: a loose tee and low hanging joggers. You almost wipe your mouth from salivating. Your outfit elicits the same reaction.

You pinch your eyebrows together, “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Yes, I can. I’m tasked with protecting you.”

“Yeah. And nowhere on your job description does it say ‘become my parent’. There’s not an opening now just because I don’t have one. I am a grown ass woman and I have been a prisoner in my own home. The same home where...” you pause, a lump in your throat at the reminder of your family’s passing. You shake it off, “I’m just tired. I want a piece of my life back. You can either stay here or come. Either way I’m going.”

He gives you a quick once over and contemplates his options before dropping his arms to his sides and letting out a long exhale.

“Fine.”

You somewhat relax at his defeated tone, “Fine, what?”

He relents, “You can go, but I’m coming with you. But if anything happens to you, I’m not to be blamed. I will leave your ass in that club.”

You grin and jump up to give him a tight hug around the neck. He stiffens before slowly rubbing your back. You sink into his embrace, feeling like you were floating in water, now above the surface as he brings you back to oxygen. Harley smiles at the exchange and she winks theatrically. 

He glares. 

It’s not long before you three arrive at the club, music blaring and colorful lights flashing over the crowded floors. From his stare and intimidating aura, the club staff thought he was a bouncer and let you all in immediately. But before he was roped into working, the three of you bee-lined to the bar. 

“The prettiest and strongest drink ya got, sugar,” Harley smiles at the pretty bartender.

“And what if that’s me?” she responds, ebony hair falling onto one shoulder.

“Then I’ll have to drink you later,” Harley gives her a flirty once over and you roll your eyes.

The bartender grins and gestures towards me for my order, I answer quickly, “Scotch on the rocks.”

Robert looks at you, poorly covering his shocked expression. “Really?”

“Yeah, why?” you look up at him.

“Didn’t peg you for a straight liquor type, Ms. y/l/n,” he finally lets his hidden laugh show through, butterflies erupting in your chest. The diversion definitely worked, whatever you were thinking about before this has immediately left you.

“Then this is going to be the first surprise of many tonight, Mr. Dubois,” you return the smug look as he orders the same thing. You both share a look.

The bartender slides you all your drinks, each of you taking a long swig for liquid courage for the night. Harley’s favorite Doja Cat song comes on and she gasps, clapping excitedly when she grabs you by the wrist, pulling you on the dance floor, “Come dance with me.”

You mouth a small ‘sorry’ to Bloodsport who you left at the bar, he shakes his head with a smile over the rim of his glass, watching you guys’ drinks. 

She dances wildly, jumping up and down, spinning to let her hair fall in many beautiful angles. She’s a powerful force and your greatest friend. She puts her arms around your neck and the two of you move in time with the music.

“So...” she motions to Bloodsport who’s being forced into a conversation with a woman at the bar. The woman puts her hand on his and he visibly shrinks back and whispers something to her that causes the most horrid look from the woman and for her to walk quickly away. You smile at the relief that interaction has brought you.

“So what?” you spin her around and pull her back.

“Quit with the good dancing, or I’m gonna fuck you myself,” she teases with a lightheaded giggle.

You smile, “We’ve tried that already, remember?”

“Too much history, I know, I know. Doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be nice...” she whispers into your neck, kissing the soft spot under your chin. Your skin heats up under her touch as she drags her hands down your sides, pulling you close to her so that you’re flush against her chest.

You give into her and kiss her slowly, her soft lips melt into your own when her hands tug in your hair. Harley and you have always had a complicated friendship, with enough sexual attraction to fuel a nuclear bomb, but not enough romantic. You love each other but not in the way you both need. You were in love with Robert and she is continuing to explore her sexuality because she likes women and so do you. So as she trails her hot mouth down your neck in the middle of dozens of bustling bodies and you lock eyes with an angry Bloodsport, you knew exactly what she was doing.

You whisper, out of breath, “Are you trying the jealousy trick?”

“It worked in college, didn’t it?” she kisses your cheek, smiling gently against your skin. “And it’s working now.”

“I think you’re just obsessed with kissing me,” you kiss her back.

“It was a win-win situation, doll,” she grins devilishly and you can’t help but agree. “So when you’re done with him, come see me. But right now, I have a sexy bartender lady to drink up.” You grip her hand and let her make her way to her next conquest.

Robert had seen the tail-end of your kiss, his deft fingers clenched around his whiskey glass. He knows he shouldn’t let this sort of thing affect him, something as juvenile and simple as jealousy. But he couldn’t stop that feeling of being stuck, unable to think about anything except the fact that it wasn’t him with his hands on you like that, lips marking you as much as he pleases. Sadness washed over him in a tidal wave and he set his glass down, about to get up to leave when he spotted a man eyeing you from the door. He looked familiar and it wasn’t just attraction he sensed in his eyes but something far more sinister.

A few more men followed suit and began making their way to you in the middle of the dance floor. He had no time to consider the facts, just to get you out of there as soon as possible. 

You feel a rough hand tug your arm and turn to face who you think to be Dubois, you smile, “Enjoy the show?”

“Very much,” an unknown voice answers, and you look up, eyes wide. “Now why don’t you come with me for a little talk, beautiful.”

“Get the fuck off of me,” you yank your arm back, slamming your heel down into the perpetrator’s foot. More men surround you on all sides, making it impossible for you to escape or use your subpar martial arts skills. Aerial yoga was a very different ballpark than kicking ass. And you were just a beginner.

You poorly punch a man in the face, only making them all angrier when you’re grabbed from all sides, being dragged towards the exit kicking and screaming. You didn’t want to be that helpless damsel in distress, but as all of these men, men you recognized from your family’s death, were surrounding you, you couldn’t breathe. Their hands felt familiar, grabbing your arms like they’d done that night before you hid in the secret door in the dining room. You had watched these faceless men through a hole in that door, stifling your cries when bullets sprayed the room your family was having dinner in. So while they were coming after you and pulling you outside, it’s all you felt. That same feeling when he wasn’t near.

Drowning.

There’s a hand that pulls you back and you watch, dazed, as Bloodsport puts every man who touched you on the ground. It’s filled with swift yet aggressive and barbaric movements, controlled, expert chaos and it happens within moments. His chest is heaving when he looks down at you and scoops you up in his arms. You’d object in any other circumstances, but this time, head against his chest and tucked in his arms, you were okay.

His voice rumbles against your side, “We’re going home.”

~~~

Harley’s tears hit your shoulder as you sympathetically pat her back.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I shouldn’t have left,” she sniffles loudly. “I should’ve been there.”

You laugh softly, fitting your head into her shoulder, “It’s okay, Harls. It’s not your fault, there was no harm done.”

“There could have been,” she sighs. “I’m not letting you convince me to go out next time, you’re staying here forever.”

You roll your eyes with a smile, “Alright.”

She gets up and sniffs, wiping at her nose that’s now flushed from crying, “Good because I’m serious.”

“I know,” you laugh again, hugging yourself in a hoodie much too large for you, (because you stole it from Rick Flagg) swallowing you whole. 

Your eyes wander down the hall to where Robert is no doubt pacing around in your bedroom, the only room not laden with cameras (ironically for privacy). You kick at the floor in your fuzzy socks and think of an excuse to go check on him, even though you’re probably the last person he wants to see right now. You, frankly, don’t care.

“I’m gonna go-” 

“Check on Robert?” she finishes. “I know, honey. I was a psychiatrist, I’m not stupid.”

You crack a smile and grip her arm affectionately as you walk past her towards the bedroom. You don’t even take the risk of knocking for fear he’ll lock it and try your luck with just simply opening it. You see him, shirtless with a towel over his shoulder, a low hanging towel wrapped around his waist, while nursing his knuckles. He looks you over once you enter the room, trained eyes on you and the intimidation is definitely working already when he takes the damp towel on his shoulder and dabs the cuts on his skin.

He remains silent and you move to sit down on your bed, the awkward squeak filling the already high-tension atmosphere, thick enough to make your ears pop like you’re in an airplane too far up in the sky.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, drawing his eye. 

He hums and steps into your bathroom, washing off his hands. 

You frown at his lack of response, “Are you really going to pout this whole time? Because honestly, it’s beneath you, Robert.” You lean forward, watching as he walks out of the bathroom, still half naked, still silent. 

The silence is beginning to slowly kill you, especially when he looks this good, water droplets running down his chiseled torso from a hot shower. You didn’t let your mind wander because if the reaction your body is giving from the image before you was any indication, you want him. He walks in the room once again, mouth in an amused yet firm line. 

In actuality, he was ashamed of himself. Not so much of you. He would’ve left as that despair overcame him back in that bar. He would’ve left you there and abandoned his mission, leaving you to be hurt. If it hadn't been for those men, you could’ve been killed and it would be his fault. He alerted Waller of the attack, making up a lie about the two of you going for a walk at night and getting ambushed there rather than at a club. There’s a hit on each of those men being taken out as we speak as well as a search for their boss. Even though that still got him chewed out. He couldn’t imagine what she’d do to him if she found out the truth.

Robert walks slowly towards you, leaning against the bed frame, gesturing for you to continue. You watch him, distracted, as he wraps a bandage around his knuckles.

“I shouldn’t have kissed her to get a rise out of you, that was hurtful,” you exhale your words, quiet enough he wouldn’t be able to hear you if you weren’t within a breath of one another. You hang your head, “And it was stupid to go out in the first place when I am in this much danger. I could’ve been killed, and you could have been hurt. I’m sorry.”

He represses a laugh at the idea of him getting hurt, when the two of you both know that would never happen. But as the silence from him grows thicker, the more you start to ramble.

“Okay, this silent treatment isn’t going to work for much longer. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you need to stop.”

He gives you a look that says ‘make me’. But you both know you couldn’t if you tried, and vice versa. He thinks of you as a siren, one of those alluring creatures in old sailor tales that lured unsuspecting men to their painful deaths. As if he has no control of the way he feels about you. Which in a way he does, but he knows better. He knows better than to fall under your enchanting song, but he can’t help but be pulled beneath the surface of the water. 

Robert tenses when you move forward and the hoodie falls off one of your shoulders, revealing more of your chest, the smooth skin that lays there. 

His chest tightens when you look up at him and sigh.

“But thank you for saving me,” you say, both because you think that’s what he wants to hear but also because you mean it, you wouldn’t be here at all if he didn’t come with you.

He licks his lips and nods his head in simple recognition. He appreciated the apology, truly he did, but a part of him enjoyed the way you continued to ramble on, so he remained silent. This was an old interrogation tactic he learned when he served, keeping quiet always got people talking. He looks down at you and leans to meet your face, hands on either side of you. 

“I don’t know what else you wish for me to say,” you admit quietly, fiddling with your hands.

He didn’t know either but whatever you would say, he would listen.

“So I take it you’re not mad anymore?” you infer from his relaxed posture, heart beating out of your chest, fast enough that it catapults to your throat. 

He tilts his head down so he’s an inch before your mouth, breath fanning over your face. when he tugs you up to your feet, hands gripping the sides of your waist when he pulls you close. Your heartbeats began to sync up, chest to chest.

“I’m fucking furious, sweetheart.”

You meet his eyes, looking up in that seductive stare of yours you never knew you were capable of until him, and close the distance, kissing him lightly. His arms falter by your side and it’s the first time you’ve seen him hesitate, losing his cool. It’s the most gentle thing he’s ever experienced, everything in his life being forced, hostile, and malicious, while your soft lips against his are anything but. You kiss him like he’s not the monster he thinks himself to be. 

“Then let me make it up to you.”

“Fuck,” he grips your sides harder, palm moving to push you closer with his hand flat against the small of your back. “We shouldn’t.”

You search his face for uncertainty, but all you sense is a profound sense of clarity, in the both of you. “I know.”

“Will you regret this?”

You shake your head, hand against his cheek, “No.”

His dark eyes fall to your lips, pupils filling his dark brown irises, lust blown, “You’re so good, baby. You’re too good for me.”

Before you can tease him about the new nickname and object to that, his lips have crashed against your own. His hand slides up to cup the side of your face, drinking you in with his intoxicating kiss. You hum, content, against his feverish mouth and he opens it, vulnerable and on display. You feel his guard still up, tense and calculated, so you rest your hand against his chest. You press a kiss to his eyelid, his cheek, his nose, his chin, his jaw, his neck. He softens beneath you, groaning aloud as his hands tighten. 

“You don’t need to be afraid with me,” you whisper to him, tender fingers trailing down his shirtless chest, hot skin against hot skin. It’s enough to make you sweat.

He exhales and captures your bottom lip with his own, holding your face in both of his hands. The kiss grows heated and rushed, like you’re running out of time, as if at any moment those men would come back and find you and take you away from him again. His tongue expertly works with your own, licking the pout of your bottom lip, and coaxing you open. He slides his hand down between your legs, dipping his finger to find the slick in the middle of your thighs. You moan into his mouth, his other hand at the back of your neck when he buries his face in your shoulder. He kisses you there, the crook where your neck meets your collarbone, that damned sensitive spot. You succumb to his touch. His beard tickles your skin and you gasp when he sucks hard, a bruise forming.

You breathe a laugh, “Everyone will see if you leave a mark,” you tug on his hair when you thread it through his coarse curls. 

He falls under your spell and there’s something so ironically beautiful about this trained assassin with a heart of gold and the scars to show for it, being so open with you.

His hands, his entire life, have been forced to be instruments of death and violence. But as they slide down your figure, holding your face, and pulling you into him, they’re his greatest gift. He’s surprisingly tender with you. 

But then he has enough and pushes you down on the bed, arms trapping you on both sides.

He responds bluntly, “I don’t care.”

You part your legs for him and he releases a shaky breath. He slowly unzips your sweatshirt and it falls off you just as you do the same and tug his towel down. Both of you are bare before the other as you take a moment to drink each other in. You were just as, if not more, beautiful than he imagined you to be. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly as his hand drapes down the line of your figure. He touches you how someone would handle a glass vase filled with flowers. 

You take his face in both of your hands and kiss him, “So are you.” 

“I don’t think you know what you do to me, baby.” His hand finds your breast and squeezes while he kisses your neck.

You moan when he uses his other hand to grip your neck, thumb against your pulse point, “If it’s anything like how I feel right now, then yes, I do.”

He lifts his head up to watch your face as he chokes you, softly so he doesn’t hurt you but hard enough to play with your breath. His thumb opens your mouth and your legs tremble. 

“So I take it you’re into choking, my love?” You nod excitedly, unable to speak, and his grip tightens. 

You let out a squeak and he releases, face etched with worry, kissing your neck where he touched you. “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry.” 

You shake your head and smile comfortingly, “No, baby, I’m okay. I’ll tap out if it’s too rough, I promise,” you tease.

His grumbling voice deepens, “Good... because, darling, right now all I want to do is bury my face in between those gorgeous thighs of yours.”

You inhale sharply when he opens your legs once again, looking up at you and you nod in consent.

“I need words, beautiful,” he smirks with his mouth just above your center. 

“Yes, please,” you breathe out and he responds with a swift lick to your pussy. He looks up at you and when he catches your eye, it’s as if the sensation grows stronger and your head hits your pillow.

“I’ve barely even touched you,” he mumbles into you and you feel his smug smile in your thigh. His fingers dip into you as he flattens his tongue and crooks them towards himself, you grip your sheets.

“Don’t... flatter yourself,” you sigh out. “I-it’s just been awhile.”

He removes his mouth and fingers from you, “So anyone can make you feel like this?”

You enjoy the feeling you get when he looks at you like that, his eyes dark and dominant, so you play along and nod. “Yes, in fact, I’ve had better.”

He licks his lips and gets up from the bed. He opens his drawer and you sit up to look what he grabs: a belt. Your heart beats excitedly in your chest even though you know you shouldn’t be. He gets back on the bed and climbs over you.

Robert looks at you, “Hands.”

You extend them to him wordlessly, watching as he ties your wrists together and puts them over the bedpost so you’re trapped there, unable to move.

“Now,” he holds himself above you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “You’re to stay tied up until I say so, anything like that again and they get tighter. Nod if you understand me.”

You nod emphatically. You had never seen this side of Robert before, so in control and not afraid to go too far, it was so unbelievably sexy. 

The best part was he didn’t tie it tight enough, afraid of hurting you, so you could easily slip out your hands at any moment.

He kisses, painfully slow, down your chest and wraps his lips around your nipple. He swirls his tongue around the erect bud and you gasp, desperate to touch him. He looks up at you from you chest as he switches to the other, massaging the unattended one as he sucks, the pleasurable feeling overwhelming you. So much so you have to clench your thighs together, longing for some sort of relief for the tension building in your abdomen.

“Baby, please,” you whine, squirming beneath him.

He shuts you up with a bruising kiss while his hand slips down to enter you, two fingers in already. He pumps them in and out of you before sliding back down the expanses of your body and letting his mouth latch onto your clit. He sucks hard and you stifle a loud moan that would surely alert everyone in the home of your arousal. He holds you down against the bed with a palm flat against your stomach as you begin to lift your pelvis. His tongue enters you while his fingers take over, stimulating you with gentle rubs and flicks. But just before you feel that euphoric release, his actions cease and you’re left hot and flustered. 

“Robert,” you look at him with a deep frown.

He grins, “Y/n...”

You blow hair out of your eyes, “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” He puts his lips near your ear, “Are you ready?” You nod as he pushes himself inside you and you bite back a moan into his shoulder. 

You finally have enough, slip your hands out, and he pinches his brow, unable to hide his shock before you bring him down to press your lips against his. He melts into you, arms wrapped around you while he holds you close, filling you out in all the right places. He quickens his pace and you whine into his mouth, nails digging into his skin. You wrap your legs around his torso and he hits you so nicely. He was right, it’s the best you’ve ever had. He rises and looks at you, lips swollen and red from kissing, eyes clear and pupils large, and face flushed with heat. Your hair is in messy tendrils at all angles and you’ve never been more attractive.

“You’re doing so good,” he praises in your ear, placing kisses across your jaw. “Taking my cock so well.”

You whimper and his movements stiffen as he approaches release and so do you, walls tightening around him. He reaches down and rubs your clit with his expert fingers. You finish together, mouths open and hands all over each other’s bodies. It overcomes you in a tingling, perfect sensation, it continues on, leaving you aching and wanting more.

He rubs his knuckles over your cheek, softly and adoringly he looks at you. You tuck yourself into his arms under the blankets. Everything you both have wanted for a long time, laying right in front of you.

“Still want to make me not walk?” you tease, looking up at him.

He kisses your eyelids and you giggle, “Fuck yes.”

Part 2?

[stanevansgossip]

Chris Evans and Guillermo Lozano

Ok so here is the full article about Chris and his friend Guillermo who is a bodyguard and actually the creator of the ABGO Superhero League (along with Joe Russo) , the fantasy football league that all the marvel superheroes do every year, this is so cool- i had no idea the chris' friend Guillermo started this.

Take a peek inside Hollywood's most exclusive fantasy football leagues. ( this article is from 2019 ) https://ftw.usatoday.com/2019/11/agbo-superhero-league-fantasy-football

"Right around early September, when many die-hard fans were stressing over their fantasy football rosters for the season ahead, 14 of Hollywood’s most famous actors were also similarly hunched over their devices,  frantically trying to lock in their picks. “We had a real online draft,” said Guillermo Lozano, an Army vet who was working security in LA when he bonded with Chris Evans over their love of sports, eventually leading him to run the AGBO Superhero League. “Everyone got online at the same time and we had a snake style draft, with everyone putting in their picks. It was like any other draft.” The 14-team AGBO Superhero League has too many celebrities to list, but it includes three out of the four Chrises (Evans, Pratt and Hemsworth), Robert Downey Jr., Tom Holland, Ryan Reynolds. Elizabeth Olsen, Anthony Mackie and more. Despite the sheer amount of celebrity crammed into it, the league runs pretty much like any other league, complete with trash talk, text chains and yes, people sliding in under the wire with their picks. “You should hear some of the excuses I get,” Lozano said with a laugh. ” ‘I’m on a glacier, I’m on set, I don’t have internet access right now, can you put my picks in for me.’ ” The league was founded by Lozano and Joe Russo, who named it after the production company he runs with his brother Anthony. The Russos, of course, are the directors of four tentpole Marvel films, including Avengers: Infinity War and Avengers Endgame.  They are also huge football fans and dedicated fantasy players. To understand the genesis of the AGBO Superhero League and what goes on in there, we’ve first got to use some Pym Particles and travel back in time a little bit and talk about Bloodsport. Bloodsport is the ultra-exclusive, long running fantasy football league made up (mostly) of actors who starred in Marvel movies. It is, if you will, the OG of the Marvel superhero fantasy football leagues. As anyone who plays fantasy knows, every good league needs a good commissioner, someone who can keep the participants in line and on task. For Bloodsport and the AGBO Superhero league, that’s Lozano, a man who mostly prefers to work behind the scenes. After five years in the Army, Lozano, a lifelong Angeleno, got started in the movie security business and through there, made a few connections. Around 2004, he struck up a friendship with Evans. “We’ve known each other for 15 years,” Lozano, who also works as a producer in Hollywood, said. “I think the Lakers were playing the Celtics, so we bonded over that.” When Evans wanted to start a fantasy league in 2015,  Lozano was happy to take the reins. Thus, Bloodsport was born. Lozano won’t reveal all the celebrities in that league, but it does include Evans, Paul Rudd, Pratt, Mackie and Jeremy Renner. Quickly, the league grew in popularity and notoriety. “It got crazy really quickly,” Lozano added. “There was a lot of interest.” As word started to spread, more people wanted in. ESPN’s fantasy guru Matthew Berry was one of those trying to secure a coveted spot. “I kept bothering Guillermo about it at the Endgame premiere,” Berry said. But, the Bloodsport league hasn’t and won’t swell in size, and Lozano runs it with an iron fist, with no room for slackers. “Everyone takes Bloodsport really seriously,” Lozano said. “The trash talk in there is epic. Those guys want to beat each other every single week.” Just how brutal is Bloodsport? Like a lot of leagues, they are not above hazing. “We had a new guy come into the league that we got pretty good,” Lozano said without revealing names. “We made him think that there was a last place penalty and that it was very severe. It was a thing he really did not want to do. Everyone was in on the joke and it was funny to see him increasingly freak out.” The Bloodsport crew kept the gag running for a few days, before finally letting the actor in on the joke. Because of its reputation as the elite league, and with so many people clamoring to be let in, Lozano thought about just starting another fantasy football league. He took the

idea to Joe Russo and from there, things began to spiral. “Anytime you have an idea and you take it to Joe or Anthony, they’re going to make it bigger and better,” Berry said. The idea for a second league quickly spiraled into something more public and fun. Russo wanted the league to have some purpose, aside from just another fantasy league. Since superheroes are all about making the world a better place, the two decided to add a charity aspect to it. Every celebrity in the AGBO league is playing for a chance at a portion of a $100K donation to the charity of their choice, courtesy of the Russos and their production partners. From there, they looped in Berry and things really got rolling. “The most important rule for joining was that you have to play,” Berry said. No one who wasn’t willing to commit was allowed. With that in mind, one weekend before the season kicked off, a flurry of texts were sent, schedules coordinated and all 14 crazy popular celebrities were online for the AGBO draft. Lozano and Berry demure about who might have needed some help with their picks, but are open about some of what went down during the event. “You don’t usually draft quarterbacks first so I was surprised Rudd took Mahomes as his number one pick,” Berry said. “But, he’s a huge Kansas City guy so it kind of makes sense.” There were also disappointments, like noted New England Patriots super fan Evans not being able to snag quarterback Tom Brady. “He ended up with Rodgers, which, for anyone else, is a good pick, but no, he was not happy about that,” Lozano said. The league also goes in on trash talk, which is another holdover from the Bloodsport league. For AGBO, the celebrities have all committed to weekly trash talking videos meant to not just sweeten the pot, but also draw attention to the charities they’re playing for.  Take for example, Paul Rudd’s extensive take down of Chris Pratt, or Ryan Reynolds going after Karen Gillan. While Bloodsport has a thread that’s not for the faint of heart (“Those guys go hard,” Lozano said.) AGBO is kinder and gentler between their very public takedowns. “It might be because it’s just the first year, and people are still feeling each other out, but everyone is too nice,” Lozano said. “It’s all like, ‘Wow, that video was really good.’ No real hard shots.” Still, there’s one player in the AGBO league that gets dumped on more than anyone, and that’s Evans. “I don’t know if you picked up on this or not,” Berry said, “But almost everyone who made a trash talk video found a way to make fun of Evans.” There’s a little bit of history there that, again, goes back to the Bloodsport league. “Here’s what you have to understand,” Lozano said. “Chris won the Bloodsport league two years in a row. Back-to-back. In my 20 years of playing fantasy, I’ve never seen that happen. It’s rare.” Evans has also been known to crow about his triumph. “He’s not shy about bringing it up,” Lozano said. “And he talks a lot of trash, so it’s only fair he gets it back.” The trash talking though, is just another part of what makes the fantasy experience special and fun. For actors who are in the limelight all day, the fantasy league is, for a lack of a better word, a safe space for them to just be themselves “A lot of it is about trust,” Lozano said. “There’s trust between everyone in the league, and that allows people to just have fun with it and get to know each other better.” It turns out, there’s a great equalizer between us mere mortals and Marvel’s mightiest heroes, and that’s fantasy football. Sure celebrities have better hair and better teeth and cuter dogs, but they too must suffer through the particular agony of watching someone they were eyeing for a fantasy slot get snatched out from under them, or seethe as a player they started hopelessly implodes during a game. That’s what makes it so fun.

[dazzledamazon]

Lonesome Fool 1/7

Rick Flag x reader

“Anyone have eyes on Blackguard or Kit?,” Flag asked over the com.

“Not recently. But he’s acting weird,” Harley said. “He traded with me. He’s with Kit now.”

“Waller ever give you a reason why we’re looking for this warehouse?,” Bloodsport asked.

“Just to get a hard drive and blue prints. Supposedly drug and arms dealer Wanna be’s. DuBois, I smell a rat. And it’s not here,” Flag said.

Bloodsport and Flag looked at each other. They both had a feeling that the mission had been off. Thrown together too quickly. Waller wasn’t monitoring them this time. They were just getting some lower level drug dealers that were trying to get guns into Gotham. That’s all the intel they had. They were to get intel and to destroy. Simple in and out. Nobody believed that.

“What’s your fucking problem Blackguard? Move. I’ll walk around or through you, if I have to,” Kit growled.

He just stopped moving. He’d already gone out of com range and gone the wrong fucking way twice. Wouldn’t listen. Fucking white haired prick. Normally he was easy to work with on missions. A real great guy. Funny. Tonight he was a complete prick. Nervous. Kept looking at her with this apologetic type look.

“Hertz, I won’t hesitate. Don’t fuckin push me.”

“Kit. B.. krd..e you there?,” Rick’s voice came through barely.

“Flag? I can barely hear you. Dipshit fuckin led us the wrong fuckin way. We’re in an alley way. Street closest is Fulton. Where are you?,” Kit asked.

“Stay there. I’m close,” he turned to Bloodsport and Ratcatcher2, “I’m gonna go get Kit and we’ll meet you back here in 10.”

“What about Blackguard,?” Bloodsport laughed.

Rick smirked,” I’ll figure it out. If she didn’t kill him that is.”

Kit turned around “Rick’s on his way. Hertz what the fuck have you done? You fucking son of a bitch,” she growled. “How much did they give you? How much?,” she yelled, praying Rick hadn’t turned off his com or that the com signal wasn’t fucked again.

He was standing there with two of the bastards the small squad were to stop. He stepped aside.

“Get him the fuck out of here,” she heard someone say about Blackguard.

There was no time to think about what just happened. Kit grabbed her gun and started shooting. Suddenly the gun was out of her hands. She managed to somehow get out of the alley and run. She was pulled into another alley. Started to fight her attacker. Hands pulling her tighter to them.

“Stop. It’s me. It’s Flag.”

Rick had seen her running. Blood running down her face. Terror uncharacteristically etched onto her face. Kit fell next to him.

“Blackguard sold us out. Left me there to be killed by the assholes we’re looking for.”

“Fuck. DuBois, change of plans. Blackguard sold us out. Rendezvous back at the camp.”

Bloodsport was pissed but not surprised. Rick stopped to check to see how hurt she was.

“ We will check later. Rick we need to get out of here. Now.”

Before they could go anywhere, they were blocked in the alleyway,” You ain’t gonna go nowhere.”

Rick stepped in front of her, “Try and stop us.”

No one could remember what happened next. Kit knew they’d been outnumbered. She remembered four of them ganging up on Rick. She’d managed to grab her knife she strapped to her ankle. After stabbing two of them, one of the smaller ones, got the knife out of her hands. And stopped her from getting her other one out. She’d never forget that scar across his face or that cold chuckle.

“Do that again and we’ll make sure your loverboy Flag here, finds the knife in his heart as he’s dyin. Last thought. You killed him,” the guy with the scar chuckled.

Then he punched Kit across the face. They were thrown into a dark,smelly room. Rick was unconscious. Kit was tied up and barely able to open her eyes. They’d both been beaten up pretty bad.

“Flag,” she weakly said, knowing it was really useless to say anything to him.

She tried to crawl to his side. Arms tied to her side tightly. Blood falling from her forehead into her eyes. Tears from her eyes. For the first time, she was scared. Kit would never admit, especially to him, but Rick had always made her feel safe. Like she’d be ok. Nothing could happen to her.

“It’s my turn. I’m gonna save you. I’ll fuck up. It’s me. But just forgive me. I promise I’ll get you out of here,” she said to his unconscious form, tears falling from her eyes, as she finally got to his side.

Rick was on his back. Kit curled up next to him as much as she could, laying her head on his chest. His face was swollen and cut. Shirt torn. He was bruised and bloodied. But breathing.

[asukaskerian]

Monthly word count - October

TOTAL: 5 601 words. better than last month but that's not saying much. bluhh. POSTED : nothin! IN PROGRESS -Bleach: suburban ot4 (531 words, all of which was discarded and rewritten two days ago because Not Quite Right.) -Naruto: madatobiizu Cherry Wine chapter idk, five, probably? six? no clue (1 472 words, some just tweaks to existing stuff and an unfinished scene that wasn't planned but cracked me up.) -Bleach: Grimmichi+fraccion ABO (1 125 words, mostly porn.) -Naruto: tobirama breaks the timeline to get his brothers back (335 words) -Bleach: chapter idk 4 of superheroes AU grimmichi (1 517 words that i forgot i'd written haha where did it come from) -Bleach: bloodsport (grimmichi in space) (385 words) -Bleach: psychic wolves AU (236 words) Also posted : Cherry Wine chapter 4 (madara/tobirama/izuna fraternal poly ABO) This was the month of vague "i miss grimmichi but idk what fic i want tho" urges, and serious, SERIOUS "whoops was excited and then brain skipped town between this sentence and the next and now it's three hours later and i've lost all the ideas i had". but apart from that i don't have adhd. >_> -- teasers!

cherry wine ABO -- "If he corners you, he dies." He had no idea where to start untangling that one. Izuna was obsessed with beating him. Not -- not that. They were polite at court, where all violence would be swiftly punished, but should they meet again anywhere else and Tobirama offer to... Izuna would say yes with a smile, move into his arms with eager grace, and then knife him between the ribs. He would not pass up on such an occasion to neutralize one of the biggest dangers to his clan to slake a bout of lust, that was ridiculous. Hashirama grinned harder. "And if Tobirama corners him?" Tobirama delivered a swift kick to his hamstring. His brother yelped, knee hitting the table hard enough to make the tea cups bounce. ((--)) rolled her eyes, mouth still hidden behind her sleeve, as if they didn't know she was smirking at them. "Then his tastes will officially be half as appalling as your own." Hashirama spluttered. "There is nothing tasteless about my fiancés! They're princely! They're smart! They have gorgeous hair! They have enough stamina and teamwork to hold their own against me--" "Hashi-chan, we both know you don't mean 'in combat' there." Tobirama closed his eyes and turned his face away, shoulders bowed in despair. -- Bleach ABO (IT'S PORN) -- "So your sword spirits--" "Mm-hm--" "Which you have two of, for undisclosed reasons--" "No, it's because-- mrph." Legs trembling, teeth bared, Grimmjow tightens his hold on a fistful of orange hair. "Shawlong, you need to be shutting the fuck up now." Oh god. Satan. Soul King, who the fuck ever presides over impossible shit, maybe it's the King of Hell for all he knows and fuck, shit, how can Kurosaki even be paying attention to the room right now?! How can he see or hear or even smell anyone else, remember anything else exists. Grimmjow isn't the one buried face-first in anyone's crotch and he barely can. He's gonna die, he's gonna die from wet soft slick lapping tongue and tickling raking things he doesn't want to remember are teeth. Except he can't ignore it because Kurosaki is on his knees between his feet and when Grimmjow pulls on his hair his mouth starts digging into his cunt in a way Grimmjow can't word in another way than hungry. 'Can't stay here but can't leave right now but can't be tied together when we need to move either', fuck this, who cares. Kurosaki went on his knees for him, let Grimmjow hold his head so he could break his neck if he wanted, and then just -- leaned in. Grimmjow fists his other hand in Kurosaki's hair; needs both of them to hold on, not fall, knees shaking. Kurosaki slides a hand down from under the curve of his ass to the back of his knee and guides it over his shoulder and now he needs the support even more. Kurosaki growls against him; it rattles through defenseless flesh, makes his cunt and his belly quiver with a rush of helplessly wanting heat. He wants fucked, he wants fucked so bad but Kurosaki won't, he can't knot him now and his soft little tongue isn't going to work to get him -- oh, oh, fuck. One of his hands slaps against the wall and then sinks all five claws through the cement knuckle-deep. His other leg folds under him and then Kurosaki catches him, pins him there with Grimmjow's legs around his head, strong hands gripping his ass and holding up his weight and, and -- When he comes his thighs clench so hard that for a moment he's afraid that he's gonna crush Kurosaki's skull without even knowing. It doesn't manage to sour it even a little bit. -- Tobirama fucks with the timeline -- "There." He dropped his satchel beside Tobirama's knees. Three red-eyed pairs of eyes followed Tobirama's hand as he moved to pick it up. He knew the process by then and could do it without really thinking about it. "Kawarama, go place the markers," he said quietly, pushing them into his brother's reluctant hands. "Niichan--" "It's okay. Place the markers. You know you won't be hurt, don't you? They'll take you where Itama is. You'll keep an eye on him until Anija can see to him, won't you?" "Niichan, please--" "Go put that one over there. You'll be fine." "You won't," Kawarama choked out, barely breathing so as not to be overheard. Tobirama blinked sightlessly at his own hands, down on his lap with the shortcut scroll half-unrolled. "I'll be fine. Madara needs me. It's fine." "Tobi-nii, I--" "I gave you an order. Go." -- Grimmichi superheroes -- Grimmjow did not enjoy the cold little metal disk or even being shirtless with a fever; he sat on the urge to growl, though. Let the guy take his temperature and listen to his heart and lungs and wrap a cuff around his arm and all that jazz. Let him loom as Grimmjow leaned back, on orders, as Grimmjow cautiously unwrapped his healing wounds. "This is five days old?" "Mm." "Welp, you're fucked." Curtains snorted. Grimmjow's eye twitched. "--What." "Just saying..." The man leaned in, poked around the edges of the biggest wound. "Some inflammation here but it should be a lot farther along than it is... And the muscles weren't cut through when you got here or you couldn't have climbed into my son's window like a disreputable suitor, but you have barely any core strength left right now... Hmm." "Hmm what, you cryptic asshole." Karin was craning her neck to look over her dad's shoulder without turning around; she gave up on hiding that a second later though. "Wow, yeah, I've seen Shiro-nii heal holes like that in about five minutes. You don't get enough vitamins in your diet or what?" "Fuck off." He knew, alright? He knew something was wrong. He tried not to swallow too obviously, not to tense. He didn't want to look afraid when Engetsu looked like it was all a fine joke. "Bad news, it's neurotoxin!" He caught Grimmjow's arm and flopped his hand around. Grimmjow swiped at his wrist with his claws, and missed by a hair's breadth. Engetsu dropped his hand, and kept talking like he hadn't noticed. "Good news, if you were going to have your lungs shut down on you, they would have already." "... Great." Fuck. Fuck -- "Even better news, you're a hollow, so every nerve that's been chewed through will grow back--" "--Son of a bitch--" "--and most of them will even grow back properly! You might end up with a few patches where they healed too enthusiastically and you now have a new erogenous zone." He grinned. Grimmjow started looking around for something heavy to chuck at his head.

[siilvan]

IT'S GIVING JEALOUS-IN DENIAL-GRUMPY-SIMP!MAKAROV I- im crying

oh god i've never seen that first pic, the way he's leaned back and sorta manspreading… good lord i need him in ways disastrous to feminism. till he forgets his tragic past. gonna make him forget he wants to take over the world, save humanity frfr

*ahem* this, uh… i'm not responsible for this drabble, loosely bloodsport-based but more or less just simping, enjoy bestie 🤭

(little bit of suggestiveness BTC, y'all have been hungry for him anyway <3)

ангел – angel (pronounced as written, with a hard 'g' lol)

мое небо/moye nebo – my heaven

he is not a man often annoyed by the "small things" but this, this sight has his blood boiling beneath his skin.

you're standing across the room, about fifteen paces away, chatting with one of his captains. a loyal soldier and a fine field commander, often successful when fulfilling his orders, and makarov's willing to admit: not an unattractive man by most standards. the captain is allowed to walk behind him for a reason, he's pleased with his work.

but, he is just a captain. he holds only a sliver of the power that makarov holds. of the people in the room, he is a mere ant, something that he could crush under his boot in a fit of rage and the only quarrel would be disposing of the body. why are you so interested in him? are you not drawn in to the strength, the pride, the influence that makarov has?

he shifts in his seat, leaning forward and letting his eyes narrow at the sight. your back is to him, but the captain— oh, the captain knows very well what the look makarov sends his way means.

you've encroached on my territory.

makarov doesn't hear the next words quickly stuttered out by the man, but it's shortly after that he nods in farewell and darts out of the room. like a child being scolded; the smile that pulls at the edge of his lips gives away his feeling of cruel satisfaction. no matter how esteemed any of his men may be, he stands alone at the top.

you blink at the door after the captain darts out before visibly shrugging and shaking your head. you turn around, eyes immediately finding his, and some unfamiliar sensation tugs at makarov's heart when he catches the glimmer of familiarity in your gaze.

he shifts again, leaning back into a more relaxed position. with your attention on him once more, he can allow his shoulders to drop, his rigid posture to soften. just keep your eyes on him.

"let me guess – that excuse of 'i need to clean my knives' was actually meant to mean, 'my commander is glaring daggers at me?'" you ask, crossing the space in a leisurely stroll, far more collected than when you first arrived several weeks ago.

he chuckles, lifting a hand to signal to his soldier standing nearby. "warden, give us some space."

the masked woman's gaze flits between you two, before she responds with a single nod and a clipped "yes, commander." she marches out of the room and the door clicks shut behind her, leaving you standing alone in front of him.

"if he has time to chat, he has time to work." makarov says, his hips briefly lifting as he adjusts his position, head lolling back just slightly to look up at you.

"that's a shitty way to boost morale," you comment, mouth briefly twitching up into a bemused smile nonetheless. "why did you really send him away?"

he dismisses your question, shaking his head. "i suppose i shouldn't be surprised that a woman of your position is observant, should i?"

you smile, again, wider and longer this time. "no, you shouldn't." you mutter.

for a moment, you two are left in that position, locked in a stalemate of neither person wanting to make the next move. observing the other, attempting to read their thoughts through nothing but minimal body language. you shift your weight from one leg to the other, hands clasping in front of yourself as you tilt your head to the side slightly, barely noticeable.

your next move.

makarov says nothing more as he pats his knee, silently giving a command. it's not a question, not a request— there is no uncertainty in the action.

he catches the flash of hesitation that crosses your face, and in reply, he offers his hand. the red light cascading over the room could almost be mistaken for an omen, a sign of what is to come in the distant future as soon as you place your hand in his.

he pulls you forward, gently, urging you to close the distance yourself. take the final leap.

carefully, you step forward and place your legs on either side of his, knees pressing into the plush cushions of the sofa as you let your weight rest on his thighs. your free hand, originally awkwardly sitting at your side, comes to rest on his bicep before lightly skating up to clutch his shoulder, the crisp fabric of his suit soft under your touch.

he draws you closer still, arm moving to circle around your middle, bringing you forward until your chests are flush, your rapidly-beating heart a contrast to his own, thumping steadily as he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing an uncharacteristically chaste kiss against your skin.

"he is not worth your time, ангел." he murmurs, lowering your hand.

"and, you are?" you ask, brows lifting curiously with the question.

"by birth right, i am," he replies quickly, voice low but confident. he isn't hiding the confession, he's reserving it for your ears alone. "no matter how many men may catch your eye for a fleeting moment, no matter how many think they stand in front of me in the queue for your hand, i will always be at the front, even if i must eliminate the competition to do so. i was born superior, i alone am worthy of your grace, мое небо."

a small part of you wants to argue, to tell him no, he has to earn that privilege, but a far larger part of you keens at his words, at his hands on you, gloved fingertips dancing along your spine and digging into the plush of your hip.

"you seem awfully confident for a man silently begging to be touched." you mutter, a sharp exhale escaping you when his hand leaves your hip to slowly slide up your side, thumb trailing along your front and stopping just below the curve of your breast.

he chuckles, dropping to a gravelly whisper as his lips hover mere inches from yours, dark eyes boring into yours and rendering you immobile.

"kiss me, then." he says, unabashed. "please, ангел." he adds after a beat, tongue darting out to wet his lips. the darkness in his gaze gives way to hunger, like a beast eyeing prey, waiting for it to run so he can give chase.

you draw in a breath, metaphorically and physically swallowing down the hesitation that bubbles up again. he has you right where he wants you, caught in his trap, but as his hands push you down, his hips raising again to press right into your clothed core, you find that you suddenly don't care.

you practically fall into his embrace, cupping his jaw and pressing your lips to his, matching the predator in hunger; like a rabbit leaping on a wolf instead. his firm grip becomes almost painful as he tugs you impossibly closer, his hand coming up to the nape of your neck, holding you in place against him.

you should have expected him to take over, to reclaim his spot in control. the most makarov will ever do is share, which alone is an honor, but he will never completely give his control away.

you're falling deeper, watching the light fade as you burrow farther into the earth, further into the pitch blackness that is him. it's hard to care, nigh impossible to think about anything else when you're so far down the rabbit hole.

worry about his touch, his lips, the satisfied rumble in his chest when he practically purrs your name against your lips. everything else can wait.

[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

Prompt List #7 - Song Lyrics

All Prompt Lists

Blood is thicker than water, but love is even stronger

Another day, another battle

I don’t really care where I go when I die, ‘cause I just found heaven

You can tell the devil that he’s wasting his time

You and I will be a tough act to follow

The warm embrace that no one knows

I want you by my side

I’ve been holding my breath all night, waiting for you

I’m diving into the deep end and i’m not scared

I am an island and you are an ocean

I’d follow you straight to the bottom, not afraid hell or high water

Keep pushing up the river, keep mining for the silver, till you strike gold

So you gotta show a little backbone 

Where your love has always been enough for me

I love you as you are

When you built those walls to keep you safe, it’s like a, prison you can't escape

When the whole damn world don’t know what they got till it’s gone, I love you as you are

The fruit just seem to fall, never had to shave no tree, the door was always opening, didn't need a key

Take me back to the speed of you, doing things that Momma said don't do

The moment I surrender, bury me in the ground, I'd die before you see me take a bow

How can I hurt when i’m with you? 

If a picture paints a thousand words then why can’t I paint you?

You broke me first...

I’ve been thinking about what to say or not to do

So you want to be a man about it

You���re moving faster than me, and I can’t keep up with the things that you need

Like you didn’t hear this melody that calls you home

Can anyone hear me calling out, i’m calling out

Where are you now? Been such a long time, i’ve tried to live without, i’m suffocating I need you to breathe

Even if I shouldn’t i’d lie for you

When I’m gone, when I fade away, is the air I breathe my only legacy

Love is like an energy, rushing in rushing inside of me

Sometimes I worry about the things I can’t control

I see neon lights whenever you walk by

You don’t know what he means to me

Only fools run back for more, being the fool I am I figured in all your plans

That man is like a flame, and oh that man plays me like a game

I’ll be anything you need

Take me in your arms and never let me go, whisper to me softly when the moon is low

Kiss me once again before we say goodnight, take me in your loving arms and squeeze me tight

Everything about you is so God darn sweet

If you can’t find love but you’re still not giving up (can I get a witness?)

And if the eight of the world is on you now, but you know you can turn it all around again

I turned on the lights, the TV and the radio, but still I can’t escape the ghost of you

Passion or coincidence once prompted you to say, “Pride will tear us both apart”, well, now pride’s gone out the window, cross the rooftops, run away.

But your jealousy is more blind than your luck, and you could be my enemy, and you could be my judge

You are a call to motion, There, all of you a verb in perfect view like Jonah on the ocean. When you move, I’m moved. 

Your love is a painkiller

Can you imagine a love that is so proud? It never has to question why or how

There’s a hunger in my heart, it’s full of promise, promise. There’s an itch under my skin, under my skin. Cause I just want to feel something real. 

You’re tall, dark and handsome, you’re charming and then some. 

You do everything too fast, you move like a whiplash, you’re missing the romance and I see through it all. 

When I’m on my own, I think of ways to tell you and when it comes out wrong I hope you’d understand.

He talks about you in his sleep, and there’s nothing I can do to keep from crying when he calls your name, Jolene. 

Dear God, I hope you got the letter and I pray you can make it better down here. 

Sorry to disturb you, but I feel I should be heard loud and clear. We all need a big reduction in the amount of tears. 

Deep inside, my heart is breaking 

Never gonna let you take my world from me

I’ve been waiting for so long, now i’ve finally found someone to stand by me 

I really got the feeling that I’ll love you ‘til my dying day

You’re a gentle man and a gentle man is getting mighty hard to find these days and you’re a tender man and you’re man enough to show your love in tender ways.

And I can’t wait to see you again

I need you by side, to tell it’s alright, ‘cause I don’t think I can take anymore

If I fall short, if I break rank, it’s a bloodsport, but I understand. I am all yours, I am unmanned, I am on all fours willingly damned

You might kill me with desire, wind me tighter than a wire

Cause you taught me how to love. It's me who taught you how to stop.

Follow me wherever I go, we're crossing over

You feel like forever

I want to run but I want you most

It's been hard for me to breathe for such a long time, I only stayed so I could ease your mind

When the memories come to haunt you with a sad lie, no one loves you, they all leave you so why even try? Let truth hold you in loving arms tonight

I can't fly but I keep finding myself soaring high above it. I have nothing left, but I keep pouring out like I am endless

Always aiming paper airplanes at me when you’re around

Apples aren’t always an appropriate apology. Butterscotch and bubblegum drops are bittersweet to me. 

I’m not ready to be just another of your mistakes, don’t wanna let the pieces fall out of place. 

And I was making you a wish in every skyline. How big, how blue, how beautiful. 

If you’ve lost your way, I will leave the light on

I know a little bit about a lot of things, but I don’t know enough about you. Just when I think you’re mine, you try a different line. 

Baby, i’m confused about you. You get me in a spin, oh what a stew i’m in. 

Stranded, reaching out, I call your name but you're not around, I say your name but you're not around. I need you right now

Told me to pick my battles and be pickin wise, but I wanna pick em all and I don't wanna decide

I don't mind being lonely, when my heart tells me you are lonely too

You could your way home, but you won't

What if I'm someone I don't want around?

You really, really know me, the future and the old me. All of the mazes and the madness in my mind, you really, really love me

Always thought I was hard to love, til you made it seem so easy

The stretch marks all around my thighs, kiss em til I change my mind

I'm gonna love, I'm gonna love you endlessly.I've never been on to yell surrender so long as you're standing next to me

It's a pity to say goodnight, cause I've never seen stars to bright. But if you've gotta go home, you gotta go home, give me a goodnight kiss

Prove to me that you still feel it before I go start something new. No one knows what comes after this but I've always hoped that it was you.

But we're drowning in the ocean and it's tearing my heart open. Baby we're high then we're low, first it's yes then it's no and were changing like the tides

I could write a book about the way you walk and whisper and look. I could write a prephase on how we met so the world would never forget

The simple secret of the plot is just to tell them that I love you a lot

Just let me adore you. Oh, honey, I'd walk through fire for you.

You sounded so damn worried. You've been tossing, turning, both ends burning, I wanna put your mind at ease again (make everything alright)

Hold me now, til the fear is leaving

My sanctuary, you're holy to me. If you were church, I'd get on my knees

I'm suffocating I need you to breathe, so reach down and pull me but, pull me up before I am buried beneath

How bout a dance, what do you say?

I'm sure the crowd will make room on the floor, when they see you look like you do

[jacaranda-bloom]

Monthly fic rec showcasing some of the fics I’ve read this month, and let me tell, you there have been a lot -  partly because I’m reprioritising my reading again and partly because we are being inundated with an avalanche of amazing fics at the moment. So yeah, be prepared for a fairly sizeable list under the cut.

In this instalment, there are fics from @sunflowrsix @kiddleau @metal-eye @flamboyantommo @icanhazzalou @sadaveniren @crinkle-eyed-boo @lululawrence @beau-soleil-louis​ @homosociallyyours @kingsofeverything @crazyupsetter @laynefaire and @allwaswell16.

Thank you to all the writers for sharing their wonderful talent with us. Please don’t forget to leave kudos and a comment if you enjoy their work. 💜

💜 an entire desert in our hourglass by tofiveohfive

@sunflowrsix Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 19k

# Pre-apocalypse, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, post break-up, getting back together, anal sex, alcohol.

The world is ending. Harry comes over.

💜 bloodsport by tofiveohfive 

@sunflowrsix

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 40k

# Friday Night Lights AU, angst, post break-up, getting back together, underage drinking, anal sex, American football.

“You know how our next game is against the Cardinals, right? You remember how vicious those guys can get. I wanted us to come up with some plays, maybe work on a block from the left—”

Louis stops when he hears a chuckle.

He doesn’t think he’s said anything particularly funny, so he turns to Harry, waiting for an explanation.

“‘S funny, ‘s all.” Harry throws his finished bottle somewhere near the other discarded ones. “This is the first time you’re talking to me in eight months, and it’s still about football.”

💜 Half A Million Strong by kiddle

@kiddleau Part 1 of the Woodstock Series

Harry/Louis | Mature | 51k

# Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Famous Harry, Non-Famous Louis, Historical, 1960′s, Woodstock, Coming of Age, Recreational Drug use.

Louis Tomlinson is a young writer for a relatively new-on-the-scene rock magazine called Rolling Stone. His assignment is to fly across the country to cover the highly anticipated Woodstock Music and Art Festival. Armed with a notebook, audio recorder, and a camera, Louis just needs one big interview.

Harry Styles. A new name in rock music and a future name in rock history. His first album sold tens of thousands and his interviews attract audiences across the country. He has the poetry of Jim Morrison and the stage presence of Mick Jagger. And after seeing him perform at the festival, Louis is willing to jump through hoops to put Harry on the cover of Rolling Stone.

💜 Gather No Moss by kiddle

@kiddleau Part 2 of the Woodstock Series

Harry/Louis | Mature | 50k 

# Friends to Lovers, Famous Harry, Non-Famous Louis, Historical, 1960′s, Pining Tour bus, Coming of Age, Recreational Drug use.

Music journalist Louis Tomlinson will do just about anything to get a story he’s passionate about. Including spending a week on tour with the hard-to-manage rockstar-in-the-making Harry Styles. In the late 60s, every long-haired kid thinks they can make it in music, and Louis’ job is to figure out what exactly makes Harry so special. That is if he can get him to put down the bottles and guitars to answer a question truthfully.

💜 Caught By The Sun by metal_eye

@metal-eye Tumblr Fic Post Part 1 of the Caught By The Sun series

Harry/Louis | Mature | 19k

# Cabin AU, Summer Romance, Young Love, Skinny Dipping, First Time, Idiots In Love, Symbolic Thunderstorms, Bonfires.

He came every summer. It wasn’t even a question. Harry and his parents—one step, one real—picked up their lives, packed it into a car, and drove long enough to land at the ends of the earth.

The cabin had been in his family for a hundred years. There was no TV, no phone, no computer, no radio. There were decks of cards and plastic deer and marbles. There were skis and leaves and a treehouse.

And then there was Louis.

Or, Harry and Louis meet every summer at the lake.

💜 Somewhere Where You’re There by metal_eye

@metal-eye Part 2 of the Caught By The Sun series

Harry/Louis | Mature | 4k

# Cabin AU, Timestamp, Nostalgia, Blow Jobs, Boat Sex, Lake Sex.

The greatest luxury, in this new part of their lives, should have been time. It stretched at varied intervals with no attention to what the real world might find convenient. Hours yawned like horses’ mouths, stretching backwards in the effort of seconds. Except that Harry couldn’t help feeling like he’d missed out, somehow. That he needed to hurry. They’d been denied their formative horny years. Something had to give.

A Caught by the Sun timestamp in which they are both lazy and horny, and some things get resolved.

💜 Members Only by kikikryslee

@flamboyantommo Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Mature | 14k

# Gyms, Boxing, Awkward Flirting, Mutual Pining. Locker Room, Semi-Public Sex, Smut.

“Well, I’m gonna go work out now, so…” Harry said, his voice trailing off. Louis nodded. “Yeah, yeah, go ahead. Go get, uh, you know, strong and buff.” What? Louis wanted to die. “Um, thanks?” Harry said. “Um…” Without another word, Harry walked away from the desk. Louis pinched his thigh – hard – hoping that was some terrible, awkward nightmare that he might soon wake up from. Or, the one where Louis works at Harry's new gym and neither one of them knows how to hold a coherent conversation with the other.

💜 I’d Still Dance With You by kikikryslee

@flamboyantommo Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Mature | 57k

# Age Difference, Louis is 28, Harry is 21, Mutual Pining, Angst, Student Harry, Ad Exec Louis, Slow Burn, Smut, Bottom Harry, Top Louis.

“Well, I’m gonna go work out now, so…” Harry said, his voice trailing off. Louis nodded. “Yeah, yeah, go ahead. Go get, uh, you know, strong and buff.” What? Louis wanted to die. “Um, thanks?” Harry said. “Um…” Without another word, Harry walked away from the desk. Louis pinched his thigh – hard – hoping that was some terrible, awkward nightmare that he might soon wake up from. Or, the one where Louis works at Harry's new gym and neither one of them knows how to hold a coherent conversation with the other.

💜 Naked and Proud by kiwikero

@icanhazzalou Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 19k

# Farmer Harry, Songwriter Louis, Small Town, Organic Food, Summer Romance, Lust At First Sight, Pining, Smut.

The town itself is tiny, as evidenced by the ten minutes it’s taken Louis to drive the entire thing. There’s not a single recognisable brand in sight—no Tesco or McDonald’s or even a bloody Starbucks. Lining the streets instead are mom and pop stores with names like ‘Jerry’s Burgers’ and ‘The Market Basket’ and…

“'Naked & Proud?'” Louis almost slams on the brakes at the outlandish sign, the name written in a seemingly innocent font, words curved around a large cartoon peach. He can’t help turning into the carpark, easing the car into a spot next to a beat up truck.

He isn’t sure what to make of it. Surely it isn’t a strip joint or sex shop, not with the families and little old ladies going in and out of the establishment. Some kind of nudist hangout, perhaps?

And, oh, God. Did Louis’ mother accidentally send him to live in a nudist colony?

In which Harry runs an organic store, not a nudist colony, and Louis doesn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

💜 Paint The Sky With Stars by kiwikero

@icanhazzalou Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Mature | 63k

# Titanic AU, Strangers to Lovers, Happy Ending.

On 10 April 1912, Harry Styles boards the finest ship the world has ever seen. Still grieving the death of their mother, he and his sister are being sent to America to live with a callous uncle who cares more about his business connections than family. Harry prepares himself for a long, disappointing voyage alone in his stateroom.

Louis Tomlinson has borrowed and saved, and finally has enough to purchase a Third Class ticket to America. With all of his belongings in a single ruck sack, he boards the Titanic filled with hope for a brighter future. Never one to sit still, he can’t resist exploring the massive ship, and soon goes sneaking into First Class in a stolen steward’s uniform.

By a twist of fate, Louis finds himself in Harry’s stateroom, entranced by the most attractive man he’s ever laid eyes on. He keeps returning day after day, even if he doesn’t understand what it is about Harry that continues pulling him in. That’s all right; Louis has a week to figure it out, and Harry is plenty willing to help.

Except they don’t have a week. They have four days. Because on 15 April, their entire world will be turned upside down.

Or, the historically accurate Titanic AU with a happy ending.

💜 Just For Tonight (I can be yours) by SadaVeniren

@sadaveniren Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 43k

# ABO, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Prince Harry Styles, Secret Relationship, Arranged Marriage, Mpreg Harry, Smut.

Harry, prince of Cestrescir, has been betrothed to Ludvic, prince of Yorvik, since birth. He'd accepted a loveless marriage as his duty to his country, until an accident threw him in the path of a gentle alpha.

💜 Live A Thousand Lifetimes by Layne Faire (HisDarlin)

@laynefaire Tumblr Fic Post

Liam/Zayn | Explicit | 58k

# Exes to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Farm Setting, Vineyard, B&B, Horses, Smut, (check full tags).

It’s 2025.

After secretly writing and producing their first album in ten years, One Direction is weeks away from releasing their first new single and announcing a world tour.

With the whirlwind about to begin again, Liam re-evaluates the last ten years - the fame, the money, the people who changed his life forever - and the person who walked away.

💜 Mine Would Be You by crinkle-eyed-boo

@crinkle-eyed-boo Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 115k

#  Exes to Lovers, Artist Harry, Writer Louis, Angst with a Happy Ending, Time Jumps, Smut.

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

💜 Own The Scars by crinkle-eyed-boo

@crinkle-eyed-boo Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 115k

#  Friends to Lovers, Drug Addiction, Coma, Rehab, Intervention, Recovery, Therapy, Tomlinshaw (Larry Endgame), Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, (check full tags).

“But I don’t belong here,” Louis insists. “Why do you say that?” James asks. “These people are all drug addicts and alcoholics,” Louis shrugs. Something sparks in James’ eyes. “And you’re not?”

Louis has never felt like he was good enough: for his stepdad, for his life-long best friend, for the life he's supposed to want. After an accident that nearly costs him his life, Louis' parents send him to rehab where he’s forced to face his demons. On the long and difficult road to recovery, Louis must confront the truths he’s been avoiding about his future, his relationships, and his sense of self-worth. Because before he can love anyone else, he’s got to learn how to love himself first.

💜 Fiction Romance by orphan account

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 18k

#  Strangers to Lovers, Blind Date, Punk Louis, Student Harry, Smut.

Harry has a type.

He likes older, sophisticated, mature men. Well-educated men. Men with life experience and passion for arts and social causes. Men who are established in their careers, who've sorted their lives out.

Niall knows this.

And so Harry can't understand why he's sat here opposite Louis Tomlinson.

💜 If Only We Wish Hard Enough by lululawrence

@lululawrence Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Not Rated | 5k

# Peter Pan Fusion, Louis is Peter, Harry is Tinkerbelle (except he’s the same size as Louis), Friends to Lovers (no smut), Flirting, Pining, Fluff.

Before Harry let Louis know he was there, he gave himself a moment to just admire him. Truly take him in.

Today, Louis was wearing one of his soft, simple green dresses that in many ways resembled the ones fairies often wore. Harry loved when Louis wore dresses. They showed off Louis’ waist and thighs more than any of his other outfits, and Harry loved that about them.

“You know I can hear your wings fluttering so you aren’t fooling anyone,” Louis said before turning and looking over his shoulder.

Or the five times fic where Louis is Peter Pan, Harry is his best friend Tinkerbelle, and it takes them awhile but they figure things out.

💜 I Can’t Do This Alone (Sometimes I just need a light) by Only_angel_28

@beau-soleil-louis Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Not Rated | 8k

# Strangers to Lovers (no smut), Meet Cute, Doctor Harry, Tattoo Artist Louis, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Loneliness, Touch-Starved Harry, Flirting, Fluff, Hopeful Ending, (check full tags).

“Harry,” he says after another contemplative moment, “can I hug you?”

It’s been...well, Harry doesn’t actually know how long it’s been. Less than an hour, probably, but already Louis says his name like it’s safe in his mouth, and now he’s opening his arms like Harry could be safe there too.

“Please,” Harry nearly sobs, and sinks into him the way butter melts on toast. It’s an apt metaphor, really, because what Louis is giving him is as essential and sustaining as a loaf of bread to a starving man. His basic need for physical affection is as vital as his need for sustenance, for sleep, and he can’t believe he’s allowed himself to ignore it for so long.

Or: Harry is having a rough time. Louis is the kind stranger who makes him smile again.

💜 You Make Lovin’ Fun by homosociallyyours

@homosociallyyours  Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 110k

# Girl Direction, Strangers to Lovers, Polyamory, Cruise Ships, Silver Fox Louis, Daddy Kink, Age Difference, Smut.

Harry is a 28 year old travel writer at a gay magazine who gets the assignment to go a lesbian cruise. She figures it's a nice chance to have some fun in the sun, but she's not expecting much else-- even if her partner and best friend are both encouraging her to hook up with someone while she's there.

When she locks eyes with a gorgeous silver fox from across the room, she starts to think she could've been wrong. There are lots of things standing in the way of anything real happening with her and Louis, but that doesn't stop them from falling for one another. True love isn't always easy, but they do make lovin' fun.

💜 As Deep As The Sky by swallowsmateforlife

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 12k

# ABO, Strangers to Lovers, Alpha Harry, Omega Louis, Smut.

A passed-out omega on the bathroom floor isn't exactly what Harry had in mind when he thought about taking a cute boy home. The idea of leaving Louis there, vulnerable and unresponsive, weighs guiltily at Harry's conscience. Turns out it's the best decision he'll ever make.

💜 Someone To Fly Home To by kingsofeverything

@kingsofeverything Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 35k

# Exes to Lovers, Divorce, Older Harry/Louis (in their 50s), Pilot Louis, Teacher Harry, Smut.

Louis. 55 year old pilot who wants someone to fly home to. Harry swipes right.

💜 Ghost Note Symphony by whoknows

@crazyupsetter

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 96k

# Proximity Curse, Blood and Gore, Supernatural Elements, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Smut, (check full tags).

Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago.

It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to.

That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.

💜 Soaked In The Blood Of Angels by whoknows

@crazyupsetter

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 41k

# Creatures AU, Vampires, Incubus, Dubious Consent, Blood and Violence, Smut, (check full tags).

The boy looks drugged, caught between a man who’s almost twice his size and a girl who looks like she wouldn’t even break a sweat snapping him in half despite her small stature, eyes closed and mouth open as he pants, arching up between them almost as if he’s trying to escape.

Normally, Harry would ignore it and continue on his search for someone to drink from, someone who wouldn’t mind his sharp teeth and rough hands. He’s seen plenty of boys like this one, ones who picked the wrong playmates, and if he stopped to rescue every single one of them he would have died from thirst a long time ago.

This one, though. There’s something about this one, the sheen of his bright blue eyes as he blinks slowly, looks around as though he doesn’t know where he is, the weakness of his hands as he tries to push the girl off of him and make his escape.

💜 Say Something by kingsofeverything

@kingsofeverything Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 105k

# ABO, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Age Difference, 50 Year Old Harry, 28 Year Old Louis, Insecure Harry, Unplanned Pregnancy, Lawyer Harry, Theatre Manager/Actor Louis, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, (check full tags).

At fifty years old and recently divorced, Omega Harry Styles isn't interested in dating. When his doctor suggests a heat and rut matching service, he signs up out of necessity. It’s the only use he has for an Alpha in his life.

Twenty-eight-year-old Alpha Louis Tomlinson aims to change that.

💜 Until by allwaswell16

@allwaswell16 Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 38k

# Strangers to Enemies to Lovers, Famous Harry, Non-Famous Louis, Actor Harry, Songwriter Louis, Cowboy Harry, Farm Setting, Smut.

Rural Eagle County, Colorado wasn’t the type of place to find a famous musician or actor. At least not until songwriter Louis Tomlinson showed up with pop star Niall Horan to visit his uncle’s horse ranch, and they just happened to find themselves next door to a reclusive former movie star.

[internacionalista]

       W I L L I N G L Y    D A M N E D

Part II of my Gerri/Roman playlist (but all the songs are from Roman's very confused POV)

Gotye - Smoke and Mirrors You're a fraud and you know it But it's too good to throw it all away Anyone would do the same You've got 'em going And you're careful not to show it Sometimes you even fool yourself a bit

Ben Folds - Best Imitation of Myself I feel like a quote out of context Withholding the rest So I can be for you what you want to see I got the gesture and sound Got the timing down It's uncanny, yeah, you think it was me

Aimee Mann - Save Me But can you save me? Come on and save me! If you could save me... From the ranks of the freaks Who suspect they could never love anyone

Kings of Leon - On Call She said call me now baby And I'd come a running She said call me now baby And I'd come a running

The Civil Wars - Poison & Wine I wish you'd hold me when I turn my back The less I give the more I get back Oh your hands can heal, your hands can bruise I don't have a choice but I'd still choose you

Damien Rice - Older Chests Older chests reveal themselves Like a crack in a wall Starting small, and grow in time And we always seem to need the help Of someone else To mend that shelf Too many books Read me your favorite line

Hozier - From Eden Babe, there's something lonesome about you Something so wholesome about you Get closer to me No tight side, no rolling eyes, no irony No 'who cares', no vacant stares, no time for me Honey you're familiar like my mirror years ago Idealism sits prison, chivalry fell on it's sword Innocence died screaming, honey ask me I should know I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door

The Weeknd - Earned It You know our love would be tragic So you don't pay it, don't pay it no mind We live with no lies Hey, hey, you're my favourite kind of night So I love when you call unexpected 'Cause I hate when the moment's expected So I'ma care for you, you, you

Arctic Monkeys - R U Mine? When she’s not there beside me I go crazy 'cause here isn't where I wanna be And satisfaction feels like a distant memory And I can't help myself All I wanna hear her say is "Are you mine?" Well, are you mine? Are you mine? Are you mine? I guess what I'm tryna say is I need the deep end Keep imagining meeting, wished away entire lifetimes Unfair we're not somewhere misbehaving for days

The Strokes - Under Cover of Darkness Get dressed, jump out of bed and do it best (Are you okay?) I've been out around this town Everybody's singing the same song for ten years I'll wait for you Will you wait for me, too?

Lykke Li - sex money feelings die I don't wanna think about, think about you Drink up, drink up I'm so fucked up All I want is you

Halsey - Gasoline Are you insane like me? Been in pain like me? Bought a hundred dollar bottle of champagne like me? Just to pour that motherfucker down the drain like me? Would you use your water bill to dry the stain like me? Are you high enough without the Mary Jane like me? Do you tear yourself apart to entertain like me? Do the people whisper 'bout you on the train like me? Saying that you shouldn't waste your pretty face like me?

Raleigh Ritchie - Bloodsport '15 Although you love me, sometimes we're mean Things can get ugly, but we're still a team We are an army, that breaks from within, but That's why we're stronger, and that's how we'll win If I fall short, if I break rank It's a bloodsport, but I understand I am all yours, I am unmanned I'm on all fours, willingly damned

Dua Lipa - Physical Adrenaline keeps on rushing in Love the simulation we're dreaming in Don't you agree? Don't you agree? I don't wanna live another life 'Cause this one's pretty nice Living it up Who needs to go to sleep, when I got you next to me?

Ryan Adams - Wildest Dreams I said, "No one has to know what we do" Her hands are in my hair, her clothes are in my room Her voice is a familiar sound, nothing lasts forever But this is getting good now

Interpol - Evil Leave some shards under the belly Lay some grease inside my hand It's a sentimental jury And the makings of a good plan You've come to love me lightly Yeah you've come to hold me tight Is this motion ever lasting Or do shudders pass in the night?

Vance Joy - Mess is Mine Do you like walking in the rain? When you think of love, do you think of pain? You can tell me what you see I will choose what I believe

Phoenix - Lisztomania So go slowly discourage We'll burn the pictures instead When it's all over we can barely discuss For one minute only Not where the fortunate only But I better be something else These days it comes, it comes, it comes, it comes, it comes and goes