#I’ve recently taking a liking to old dodges

[meowrimo]

HELP ME HELP YOU — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. dick grayson !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : poison ivy has been flying under the radar and weaponizing her pollen to fellow criminals. it’s a shame you and dick find out the hard way.

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader. dub-con bc of sex pollen (they’ve both been pining for each other tho), dry humping, slight exhibitionism, unprotected sex, oral (f + m receiving, 69, face sitting), cum eating, multiple orgasms, missionary, mating press, cowgirl, pet names (baby, pretty), praise, creampies, mentions of breeding, light impact play (slaps your thigh once), begging, mentions of sweat and saliva, slight overstimulation, almost pure smut tbh it’s just filth — WC : 6.1k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : mind the tags !! i’ve been wanting to write a sex pollen fic for so long i’m so excited i finally did it ! enjoy !!

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

another drizzly night in gotham, filled with blaring police sirens and a heavy dose of crime. patrol was going as planned for the most part. apprehending a few criminals here and there, but nothing major. to dick, it was a semi-quiet night. one that left him reflecting on his life or rather, his recent choices.

truth be told, he had missed gotham. even though it wasn’t in a much better state when he had left, a large part of him knew he belonged here. bludhaven had been a good experience for him to try and break away, start his own thing. but when it came down to it, he missed it here. missed the people here, some more than others.

dick eventually got a tip from tim, stating that there were a couple of criminals causing a scene a few blocks down the road. he made it there quickly, only to run into you.

normally, it wasn’t a rare sight to see you out on patrol at the same time as him, but lately, it’s been harder to be around you. he knew he was developing feelings for you, no, he already had feelings for you. but it was all so confusing. the two of you had been friends for so long, since you were teenagers.

but then he left and you stayed. even though he’s been back for about a month, it still feels like he doesnt get to see enough of you. and when he’s finally around you, he just doesn’t know how to act anymore. 

“and here i thought you’d never show up, nightwing.” you tease, getting ready to apprehend the criminals that were trying to make their next move. he easily side stepped to get into a closer range to them, ready to bring them down with you. but truthfully, a large part of his focus wasn’t on them at all.

“you know i can never resist.” he smirks. the two of you start fighting off the criminals, landing quick, steady punches. 

“resist showing off, you mean.” you scoff, swinging your fist around, lodging it in one of the criminals' sides.

“ouch,” dick takes out one of his batons, twirling it around in his hand before using it against one of the enemies. “and here i was going to help you out of the goodness of my heart, my mistake.”

the two of you move in sync, your fighting styles mimicking each other as you attempt to take down the criminals. even though it’s been awhile, the two of you mesh well together just like old times.

“why don’t you sit back and watch how it’s done, boy wonder.” you drop down, palm hitting the pavement as you dodge an incoming attack. you use the momentum to sweep your feet under the apprehender, knocking him on his back. 

“i must’ve struck a nerve for you to use that nickname on me.” he smirked, trying to see how far he can crawl under your skin. the criminals were still trying to fight you both, but it was a cakewalk for him. he’d rather just stand around and tease you all night if he could.

“you’re always on my nerves.” you huff, pushing a villain off of you, watching them hobble backwards before you ready for another attack.

“gotta get your attention somehow, don’t i?” he hit one of the criminals in the gut, trying to swiftly take him down.

before you can retort, you hear something clink to the floor near dick before gas starts to surround it. you both pause, attention shifting on the strange device. the criminals use the momentary lapse to their advantage.

“that’ll keep them busy for awhile.” one of the criminals snicker as they make their escape. you take a step towards them but dick holds you back, his hand gripping onto you.

something felt like it was crawling up his spine, a heat that grew more the longer he touched you. 

“what are you doing?” you question him, ripping your arm from his hold. but then he realized, not touching you sent spikes of pain throughout his body, yearning for some sort of relief that he didn’t know how to get.

he tries to shake it off to focus on the task at hand, pressing against his ear piece, trying to contact tim.

“nightwing.” tim greets as he presses the button. dick crouches down to look at the device the criminals threw, your eyes tracking his movements with curiosity. “report?”

“looks like the criminals threw a toxin at us, i’m not sure what it is but it let out a puff of gas when it hit the ground. judging by the design of it i’d say,” dick pauses, eyes widening as he flips it over in the palm of his hand. a small, green plant painted onto the side of the device. “ivy.”

“alright, report back to the batcave. there’s been rumors that she’s been weaponizing her special pollen so we will have an antidote ready. did anyone else get hit? or are you alone?” tim replies, typing away on his keyboard.

dick looks over at you, holding your gaze for a moment. his mouth feels dry, words lodged in his throat as his body shivers. he tells tim he’s with you.

“dick, whatever you do, do not give into any urges, okay? christ, i didn’t know she’d be out on patrol too, she wasn’t even scheduled.” the frustration in his voice is tinged with anxiety and panic, knowing fully well the extent of getting hit by ivy’s pollen. “both of you get back here immediately. signing off.”

“affirmative.” dick nods, letting tim break the line for now. his eyes hadn’t left yours and he watched as you back up towards the wall behind you. he mirrors your movements, his thoughts growing hazier by the second. his more primal urges start to fight logic, a new battle unfolding in his mind.

he holds onto the wall, planting his back firmly against it as his hands form a fist. the sensation is back again, prickling under his skin like an itch he can’t scratch. it’s driving him mad, sweat starting to coat his body. everything was hot, searing. any self control he had was quickly slipping through his fingers, his heart racing out of his chest. 

even looking at you seems to make it worse, so he keeps his head against the wall, looking up at the dark sky as he tries to find the strength to move. he needs a plan, something to grasp and ground him to reality before he throws caution to the wind and takes you right here in this alleyway.

so he decides he just… won’t give in. that’s it, he’ll stay on this side of the wall while you stay on the other and then you go back to the cave and get the antidote. perfect.

“dickie.” or well, it would’ve been. his attention reluctantly goes over to you as you use his nickname, eyes burning trying to keep them on your face. but the way your voice sounded, the lilt of desperation packed into it had him curious. his eyes trail down your body, watching the way your chest heaves up and down, your thighs clenching together.

“yeah?” he swallows, eyes averting to the ground, his fingers curling deeper into his fist until he’s sure his nails are about to break the skin. 

“it hurts.” you all but whimper and his resolve cracks in half. it was always his dream to be your hero, to be someone you look up to and respect. being your knight in shining armor and eventually wooing you over one day. with the way your voice sounded, he needed to save you, do anything to make you feel better. seeing you in pain like this clawed at his heart, leaving his chest wide open. “please, i don’t know what to do.”

he’s never seen you look so helpless. you’ve always had an air of confidence about you whenever you put on your suit. you took being a hero seriously, one of the many things he admired about you. but this? he’s never seen you like this. and it stirred something within him.

he swallows thickly, trying to grab control of his thoughts once again, gripping onto logic even though the pollen was directly challenging it. one by one, another decent thought slips out of his hold and is instantly replaced with one that was much more improper. the kind of thoughts he’s tried his best to repress, especially when it comes to you.

“i know.” he says, tim’s word of caution fleeting from his mind. pressing himself off against the wall, he bounds over to you, finding himself directly in front of you, his palm pressed against the wall by your head. you gasp and it takes every last bit of him to not devour your sweet sounds. “fuck, we have to get back to the cave.”

your eyes flutter shut as his words breathe across your face, the raspy tone from his voice luring you in. 

“please.” you say again, the words barely above a whisper.

the rubber band snaps and the tension breaks, your bodies surging towards each other, clicking into place as your lips finally collide. the pollen saturating every nerve in your body, an overwhelming tsunami threatening to consume you and take him down with you.

but he wasn’t faring any better. his hands were shaking with need, his movements clumsy, not because they weren’t practiced, but because he had never needed anything more in his life.

he kisses you with a bruising force he usually reserves for when he fights, unable to hold himself back as the pollen dances throughout his veins chanting more, more, more.

visions invade his mind, betraying all the walls he’s so carefully put in place over the years. the amount of times he’s dreamed of having you, the amount of times he’s fisted his cock to the thought of you, was all coming to a burning point. if he didn’t have you now, it felt like his body would disintegrate. 

a groan rips from his throat, rumbling against your lips as he tries to devour you. his hands roam all over your body, almost kneading against every part of you to get a proper feel. but it wasn’t enough.

“have to feel you, please- need you closer.” he manages to choke out, his plump lips swollen with your passion, his dark blue eyes blown all the way out into a dark, stormy abyss. with a small nod of your head, he’s pushing you against the wall, slipping his thigh between your legs. he grinds against your hips, seeking out any sort of relief while also trying to provide you some.

the kiss is hardly graceful — teeth clashing against each other, trying to consume the other. there’s no fight for dominance, no careful hesitance, just pure unabridged desperation. he feels you reach for your mask, already trying to take off anything that serves as a barrier between you and him.

“f-fuck, wait, keep your mask on. we can’t-“ he didn’t finish the sentence as you rolled your hips against him instead, body jerking in his hold. somehow the gravity of the situation rings in his head for a moment. “shit, wait, we should talk about this, right?”

“we’re just helping each other out,” you gasp, kissing along his jaw. your fingers dig into his biceps, voice straining as you try to keep yourself together for a moment. “it hurts so much, i can’t stand it. help me and i’ll help you.”

“can’t say no to that logic.” he picks you up, pressing you against the wall as he presses his aching cock to your core. the relief it brought had his eyes rolling to the back of his head, gripping onto you tighter as his body reacts in a way it’s never done before.

he grinds against your clothed cunt, the fabric of your suits making it easier to hurriedly slide against each other. he wishes he could feel how tightly you’d wrap around him instead of this but he needed release now, and this was the quickest way to get it.

and you’re just as bad as him, bucking your hips against him to gain any sort of friction, your hands pawing all over his body.

“please-“ you whine in his ear, “stop teasing me, let me feel you.” your body felt on fire, something crackling just beneath the surface. the friction you were getting wasn’t enough, giving you pleasure but you also craved more.

“c-can’t.” he gasps, moving his hips faster as he feels a high coming on. “m’close.”

it was all building up deep within him, pleasure fighting pain and hurtling him towards the unknown. but he knew it would help, god, he knew anything with you would save him somehow.

his aching cock was still pressed up against the tight suit he had on, throbbing and pulsing as if it was trying to make its great escape. but the sound of your moan brought him back to the moment, the sweet mewl tumbling out of your lips as you reach your high. it sends him over the edge, cumming in his suit, hips stuttering against yours.

after a moment to catch your breath, you look at each other. the pain and fire are still as strong as ever, in fact, it might even be worse now. he needs to be inside you, feeling your warm walls hold onto him as he releases load after load deep within you.

“we need to-.” he pauses, breath hitching as you start rubbing against him again. the words die in his throat, no longer thinking of the batcave and the antidote. 

“i need more, please we can’t stop here.” you whine, looking up at him. whatever you were doing felt so good, feeding into the unstoppable desire that ignited in him. 

“we need to find somewhere to go.” he decides, holding onto you tightly.

“there’s a safehouse close by.” you suggest and suddenly it was like a veil was lifted. the fog cleared, and all he could see was you. your unfocused eyes, the way you pawed at him, he knew exactly what to do.

“i know the one, let’s go.” he grabs your hand, practically running down the street with you dragging behind him. but you manage to keep up with him. he’s relieved that no one is really out here, even though the night life was never tame in gotham, he considered it a small blessing that the streets were somewhat quiet tonight.

the safehouse was nestled in between a slew of apartments. he easily grabbed the key from under the mat and shoved the door open, the hinges yelling in protest. he all but pushes you inside, slamming the door shut and sealing you both in.

your body hits the door as soon as he closes it, his brute strength easily manhandling you into any position he wants. you were more than ready for it, wrapping your legs around his waist as your heels dig into his perfect ass, pulling him closer.

he groans as you roll your hips against his, trying to get closer to his straining cock. depravity takes over as you're practically humping against each other, shimming out of your suits. some part of you had to still be touching him —  your lips, your hands, anything.

finally, you’re both freed of your restricting clothing, ripping it down just enough so he could gain better access to you, barely caring that he was shredding your hero suit. but it didn’t seem like you minded either as your nails raked against his chest.

“you ready for me?” he fists his aching cock, throbbing and glistening with his cum. the tip was so red, you wondered if he was in any pain — or if it matched the same one you felt in between your thighs. 

“hurry, need you to-” you didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence. 

dick slipped into you with one rough shove, filling you all the way up in one delicious motion. you gasp, throwing your head back into the door at the sudden intrusion, your back arching off of the wooden panel.

“sorry, baby.” his arm slips around your waist, his palm spreading along your back for support. “s’okay, you’re okay, yeah?”

he doesn’t move for a moment to try to let you adjust, his body practically screaming at him for waiting. but he felt so weak for you, couldn’t help but start rocking his hips. it didn’t take long for his urges to take over. 

his hands pushed down onto your waist, steadying himself so he could get deeper. the only thought that crossed his mind was how good you felt, how well you took him — and it only made him more determined to make you fall apart just like you were making him.

why had he waited so long to make a move? he could’ve done this sooner, years ago. it pissed him off, frustrated he’s gone so long without knowing how good your cunt felt wrapped around his cock. the anger only intensifies his thrusts, the door rattling behind you in protest.

“s-slow down!” you cry out, not really thinking of what you were saying. the last thing you wanted was for him to slow down, but everything felt so fast, so overwhelming that your brain couldn’t keep up with it.

“that’s not what you really want.” he grunts out, lips latching onto your neck. he needed to leave little marks on you. a reminder for him that this is really happening, that this is real. he’s finally fucking you. “you’re so tight, you feel so good f’me.”

“all for you, only for you.” you start to babble, drunk off the sensation he‘s feeding you. your legs wrap tighter around his waist, driving him deeper than he already was. his pace stutters for a second, his release already sneaking up on him. “ah- m’already close!”

“me too, baby.” he breathes, his voice raspier than you’ve ever heard it. “please let me cum inside, need to fill you up and breed this pretty pussy.”

you clench around his words, nodding your head profusely, body tightening as electricity shoots through your body as you cum around his cock. your eyes roll to the back of your head as he continues to thrust into you, desperately chasing his own release.

“yes, yes, need it, please!” you moan, practically milking his cock. once you give him the okay, he drives as deep as he can and lets out a broken moan as he fills you up.

“shit.” he grunts out, his breathing far out of his control. he lowers you down, letting you land on your feet. but you can hardly stand, his grip tight on your elbows to keep you upright. the two of you just stare at each other for a moment, trying to process what just happened, what’s currently happening. intense need swarms his mind again and pain spreads throughout his body with every passing second he isn’t inside of you.

instinctively, you drop to your knees, your hand lightly grasping around his slick base. dick lets out a hiss of pleasure, tossing his head back as he feels the slight essence of reprieve. 

“need you in my mouth,” you look up at him, slowly pumping his cock. he twitches in your hand with interest, the sex pollen still sending his body into overdrive. he doesn’t even feel overstimulation, all he feels is lust and the overwhelming need to wreck you.

“go ahead, baby.” you wrap your lips around his cock, hollowing out your cheeks as you get right to work. his eyes roll back and he needs to grip onto the back of your head for support — otherwise he’d fall backwards. “damn, knew you’d be good at this, always running your sweet little mouth whenever you’re around me. feels like heaven.”

you hum in approval, the sensation tickling his tip. you take him in deeper, your hands grabbing onto his ass for support.

“fuck, baby.” he mutters under his breath. normally, you probably wouldn’t have heard it, but the pollen heightened all of your senses when it came to him. his voice sounded so raspy, so desperate, it had you squeezing your thighs together. “please don’t tease me right now or i’ll fuck you against the wall again.”

so you don’t, swallowing his whole length, your pretty eyes filling up with tears as you look up at him. he feels like he’s going to pass out — his head is fuzzy, his thighs are trembling, you have him under your spell and a primitive part of him is screaming at him to fix it.

“i’m gonna cum.” he moans, gripping your hair. he almost lets himself, but it wouldn’t feel fair. he needed you to cum with him. the two of you were in this together. he pushes you off of him, regret already swarming his body as the pollen viciously attacks him again.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, wiping the spit that was pooling in the corner of your mouth. he picked you up, bringing you over to the couch.

“i have to taste you.” he tosses you on the couch, “so you’re gonna sit on my face.”

the way he said it doesn’t leave any room for argument so for once, you listen to him. watching as he sits next to you on the couch. your bodies pivot so he’s laying down instead of you, an eager smile on his face. 

you climb on top of him, going to move your hips over his eagerly awaiting mouth. but he’s impatient, the need to taste you on his tongue is too great. hastily grabbing your hips, he pulls you down on his face. you yelp in surprise, nails digging into his abs to ground yourself. he doesn’t waste a second, diving into the delicious meal you’ve presented him.

even without you touching him, he started to feel his own relief by swirling his tongue around your clit. his hips thrust in the air, unable to control himself. your moans and small gasps of pleasure fuel him to keep going, not planning on stopping until he’s gotten his fill.

he groans into your cunt as you start to take his leaking cock in your warm hands, focusing on his tip. you lean over his body as he holds you firmly in place so you can pull him back in your mouth, engulfing him in an instant.

his hips involuntary jerks up, pushing himself deeper and eliciting a gag from you. he would feel bad but with the way you gushed around his tongue told him otherwise.

“god, you taste incredible.” he mumbles, making sure he’s not missing a drop. but honestly, it’s too much. your slick mixed with his cum has his mind spiraling — the taste settling on his tongue, nestling deep into his senses.

it was all a haze, trying to devour every drop of you, gripping onto your thighs so tightly that if he was thinking more clearly, he might feel bad. but the way your tongue wraps around his cock, your throat enveloping it all the way down, leaves him with very little coherent thoughts.

but he couldn’t stop lapping at your cunt, every tremble, every moan, every taste of you has him wanting more and he knew that this wouldn’t be enough — it might never be enough. you’ve created an insatiable beast that only craves your touch.

“dick, i’m gonna cum-.” you take a gulp of air, using your hand to furiously pump his cock, fingers dancing around his tip as you usher out your words. a flare of pride spikes up with him and shoots throughout his body, his hand getting away from him as he encouragingly slaps against your thigh.

“please, baby. come all over my face.” he knows he sounds wrecked but he doesn’t care. he gets back to work, suckling on your clit more intently than before. your mewls vibrate along his length and he can’t help but thrust into your mouth a little, overly excited at the prospect of you releasing all over him. 

he helps you ride his face, guiding your movements by his grip on your thighs. with a cry of his name, you cum again, gushing all over him. at this point, he could die a happy man, cleaning you up as your thighs shake in his palms.

he’s not sure if it was your skilled mouth, your messy cunt, or the fact he managed to pull that strong of an orgasm from you — but he came in your hand that was still rubbing at his tip.

“f-fuuuuuck.” he moans out, hips jerking in your hold. after a few minutes, he feels you slide off of his face, pivoting yourself and sitting on the couch, head hanging off the back of it.

it had to be over, right? all of the pollen should be out of your systems. he sat up and mirrored your movements, looking over at you to see how you were faring. and you were already looking over at him, half lidded eyes as you were catching your breath. your skin was glistening in sweat, much like his own.

the itch creeped up his neck, sending chills over his body. it definitely wasn’t done and the agony of not touching you anymore was starting to get to his head. he lunges over to you, pinning you on the couch as he lines up his cock once again.

“god, i need to have you.” he breathes, searching your eyes to see if you feel as messed up as he does.

“you’ve got me.” you mewl before looking up and adding, “you’ve always had me.”

“really?” disbelief coats his words, somehow managing to pause his motions even though his body is screaming at him. the fire inside of him is licking at the tightly wound coil within him, but somehow he’s able to push it down — even if it’s just for a moment. but he needs to hear this, needs to hear you.

“i’ve-” you start squirming under him, no doubt feeling that same fire he did. he almost felt a little bad by delaying your gratification but god, he really needs this. he can’t tell if the tears forming in your eyes are from the pollen or from the emotion that’s been building up after all these years.  “i’ve always loved you dick.”

his hormones fly out of control, his hold tightening against you. every nerve in his body tells him to move but he’s somehow frozen, transfixed on your confession. 

“i love you so much.” he manages to choke out, desire boiling in his gut once again, fueled by the sweet words he’s been dying to hear from you. it was too much, the overwhelming itch consuming him once again as “fuck, ‘m sorry, need to-.”

he doesn’t finish the sentence, instead he’s plunging into your warm, welcoming walls. fitting together like a puzzle piece that was always destined to connect. the pollen swirls with the love shared between you two and he can’t help but ruthlessly drive into you, relishing in your sharp cries of pleasure.  

his cock slips out of you, exasperated groans both leaving your lips and into each others mouth. he reluctantly pulls apart from you, shoving himself back where he belongs before he resumes his pace.

“dick, more-.”

something shatters within him. he couldn’t say it was self control — that had long been gone. but something else deep within him broke by your hands and yet, he could already feel you mending it back up.

there’s no way to tell the passage of time, but none of that mattered to him anyway. all he could do was revel in the warmth of your soft, silken walls. his eyes scan over your face, taking in your blissed out state no doubt mirroring his own.

it had him wanting — craving more. like a man starved who had his first bite, who wouldn’t be sated until he had his fill.

dick’s movements were even faster now that his body could hardly keep up. his cock slipped out of you again, and he let out a strangled sob.

everything was just so wet, both of your bodies coated in a mixture of sweat, spit and cum. he felt your slick coat his thighs, your saliva mark his neck — every inch of his skin is completely covered by your essence.

he drives himself back into you, humping against you as he chases another release. everything was burning up the longer he staved off. at this point, he needed to keep filling you up. you made it so easy for him too, greedily sucking him back in every thrust, squeezing around him so tightly his head was spinning.

driven by pure instinct, he pushes your thighs against your chest, pushing himself deeper into you. 

“wanna take my time with you s’badly.” he rasps out, hands pushing against your legs. “but you just feel s’good i can’t stop.”

his mouth hung open as unsteady breaths left his lungs, trying to gulp up any air he could. but he’d much rather breathe in the sight below him, watching you sprawled out for him, sucking him into your pretty cunt has his mind short circuiting.

“you take me so well, you’re so good to me.” he babbles, eyes squeezed shut for a moment to soak it all in. “you were made f’me.”

his head falls forward and he feels a bead of sweat drop down the side of his face. your trained eye watched it fall, before you lean up and lick it clean off of him. he gasps in surprise, lips chasing yours once again.  

at this point, you really couldn’t call it kissing. your lips were pressed against each other but neither of you could move them properly. just unsteady breaths and moans keeping the two of you connected as pleasure overrides your senses.

arousal pours like gasoline beneath his abdomen, your pleas serving as a match to ignite his body into flames. the pollen warps his mind, drunk on your taste and only craving more of it. 

but he needed you to cum first. he was still trying his best to help you, to relieve you of any pain. he doesn’t know how long it’ll take but he needs you to at least cum as much as he does. 

“oh god, oh, it’s never, fuck, felt like this before, so good-“ you moan out, arching your back up so he can get deeper. 

“i know baby, i know.” he keeps going, harder than he had before. “you’re so, so good to me.”

it was all too much for you, clinging onto him as he relentlessly thrusts into you. he watches as your body freezes in his grasp, bliss saturating all your features, before you forcefully come around his cock.

he wasn’t much further behind, gripping the back of the couch and pushing his hips flush against yours as he fills you up once again. 

the pollen was still tingling in his system, he could feel it. but he felt so drowsy, and he knew you were too. he presses his forehead against yours as your legs fall helplessly by his sides.

“you okay?” he can hardly recognize his own voice.

“mhm, you?” you ask, your eyes fluttering shut for a second. he sees your face constrict with pain and he knows you feel what he feels. it’s not over yet.

“can you handle another round?” he asks, gently caressing your cheek, wiping off what was either sweat or tears. it took so much not to jump you, but the desire was starting to lessen and becoming easier to control, but that didn’t change the fact he was still so damn weak around you. one more round would soothe it all, he can feel it.

“can you?” you laugh breathlessly, always trying to challenge him. a lazy smirk takes up his face as he adjusts you, sitting back against the couch and pulling you up into his lap. his fingers rub little circles along your hips before he digs his fingers in.

“since you’re so confident, why don’t you show me how it’s done.” he meant to sound cocky, but his voice came out twisted with need and desperation.

“with pleasure.” you grab a hold of his still hard cock, lining it up with your sopping entrance, cum from the previous rounds dripping down your thigh. he can’t help but swipe some on his finger, playing with the slightly sticky substance.

you slide down on his cock, moaning the entire way down. all he can do is look up at you, unconsciously sliding the two coated fingers in your open mouth.

you swirl your tongue around them, sucking them clean as well as you were sucking him off earlier. he moans, head hitting the back of the couch as you start rolling your hips.

“you’re so pretty — fuck — i mean, just look at you.” he slurs, eyes glued to where you were connected. his fingers leave your mouth, sliding down your body. “you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen.”

your nails dig into his shoulders, using it as leverage to grind yourself more in his lap, his neatly trimmed pubic hair brushing along your swollen clit.

he slumps back a bit, letting you take control and take what you need. mesmerized by the way your tits jiggle with each movement, he wraps his tongue around your nipple before giving it a sloppy, open mouthed kiss.

he was lazy with his movements, swirling his tongue around the perked bud and nuzzling his face against it. the more he touches them, the more he needs to. 

your hips drag along his, bodies pressed together as it feels like lead fills your bones. but you can’t stop moving against him.

“want you to be mine.” he moans against your tits, thrusting up into you more as he feels himself getting close. all he needs to hear is your confirmation that you’ll finally be his. “say you’ll be mine.” 

“m’yours!” your cry out at the increase of pace, fingers digging into his hair as he leaves his mark all over your breasts. “i’m all yours.”

with one final groan, his hips jerk up a few times, releasing another load into your already overflowing cunt. the grip on your hips loosen as his forehead lands on your shoulder, wincing as you keep going to chase your release. overstimulation was starting to creep up on him as the pollen started to clear out of his system. but he didn’t care, he’d keep going as long as you need him to.

“c’mon baby.” he slurs, leaving open mouthed kisses along your collarbone before looking up at you like you summon the sun every morning, beaconing it with your radiant, blissed out smile. “you’re doing s’good for me, give me another one c’mon.”

“cant, i’m trying but i need more.” you move your hips a little faster with a whine of his name tumbling from your lips.

“i’m right here, fuck baby, let go f’me. you’ll feel so much better i promise.” his fingers slip in between your bodies, thumb pressing firmly against your clit as you keep riding him. it sends you over the edge, gripping onto his shoulders and tossing your head back. he’s never seen a more ethereal view and if he could’ve, he would’ve cum all over again at the sight alone.

he doesn’t move his thumb as you ride out your high, squirming around in his lap as pleasure courses throughout your body. he lets go after you start twitching in his grasp, showing you mercy for the first time tonight.

you collapse into a heap on his chest, your heart racing as you try to catch your breath. he feels you curl into him, exhaustion starting to take you. he’s still nestled inside of you, with no desire to move. 

he blinks a few times, starting to take in his surroundings. you guys definitely messed up the couch. anyone who passes through this safehouse will see the traces you two left behind for weeks to come. the thought makes him smirk a little bit.

his phone buzzes and somewhere deep in his fucked out mind he realizes he should check. he’s still technically on patrol. with one arm still securing tucked around you, he uses the other to grab his phone.

everything is a little blurry, the fog still clouding his mind, his eyes drooping as he tries to read it. your soft snores start to fill his ears as he opens the text from tim, reading the line over and over a few times in hopes of processing it better. but then he gets it — clear as day. it was from tim.

“let me guess. you stopped at a safehouse.”

another text.

“have fun explaining this one to bruce.”

taglist : @the-tenth-shadow @petriquors @boogiebooboo @lucifersidepiece @oikawabi-sabi @collin-thegreat ᰔ

[stonedtaemin]

all my life i've dreamed of you, my love

❕creampie, jealousy sex, multiple orgasms, first time, pussy eating, first kiss | ao3 | wc 4.6k

mc goes on a date with another guy, caleb can't take this shit anymore *requested <𝟑

23 missed calls and 30 unread messages. all from caleb. she didn’t even know where to begin, what she would even say. what was his deal? why did he even care? it’s not like she wasn’t being safe. she had every right to do whatever she wanted. she was grown up, her own woman. 

she turned off her phone, tossing it onto the bed. she couldn’t deal with caleb’s incessant whining right now. she thought maybe since reuniting he would be less annoying and clingy. but he’s been nothing but that. not to mention she had recently felt some… stirring in her heart. the scary kind. she couldn’t shake this feeling off, like it was more than just her affection for her old childhood friend. it was ridiculous. to be honest, she had only went out with zayne to see if she could return his obvious affection for her. it was a bust in the end. all she could think about was idiot caleb. she was sick of it.

fleeting, nothing more.

a quick shudder washed over her, taking a deep breath. she couldn’t— wouldn’t— think about that right now. best to just forget such a stupid thing.

she went to the end of her bed, looking at herself in the mirror. she sighed deeply, undoing her hair. her hands went down to her earlobes, earrings dangling. she took them out and set them on her jewelry dish. she was about to take her dress off until she heard a loud banging on her door. she jumped out of her skin, palm planted over her chest.

she slowly crept towards the door, grabbing her gun off the dresser. she pulled it up, cocked and ready to shoot.

she was close to the door when the banging happened again, another startle coming from her. she gulped, finger flexed onto the trigger. she looked into the peephole slowly, squinting with perplexity.

fuck.

she sighed loudly, rolling her eyes. then a groan of pure anger.

"what the fuck?" she opened the door, only to be greeted by a drenched caleb. it had begun to storm outside and he had taken a direct hit from it. his hair had water droplets that were crashing around him, purple iris' swirling with a darkness.

he was breathing heavy, pushing her inside so he could get into a dry space. she grunted, stumbling back. the door auto locked behind them, caleb pressing her further into the apartment.

“no, i should be the one asking you that. why have you been ignoring me?”

“what are you doing here?” she dodged the question.

she backed up, placing her hunter’s gun onto the side table of the entryway. her hands went to her hips, deadpanning at him. he looked so lonely like this.

“answer me.”

she sighed deeply.

“i haven’t been ignoring you. you just tend to be overbearing. per fucking usual.”

he scoffed, closing the space between them, only for her to back up again, distance returning. he stared down at her feet as she walked backwards, feet stumbling in the process. he let out a dark chuckle.

“overbearing? i told you to not go out with that loser.”

“that loser has a name, caleb. zayne has always been close to me, so what’s the harm in going on a date?” her finger went to point at his chest, digit digging into his peck harshly. he didn’t even flinch. he was motionless.

“because i told you not to, that’s why. that’s the fucking problem.” he snarled.

“oh, so now that you’ve walked back into my life all high and mighty mr. farspace fleet colonel you think you can just bark me around like one of your subordinates? well tough shit. things have changed. i’ve changed.”

his eyes flickered an unreadable emotion, one she didn’t think she wanted to know.

“he doesn’t get you. not like i do. nobody does.” he avoided her previous words, like he hadn’t even heard them.

“what does that even mean? like what are you even getting from saying that?”

his hand reached out to grab hers, but she turned away to walk the opposite direction. he yanked her with a force like none other, his grip tightening around her wrist. he pulled her onto his chest, their faces impossibly close.

“don’t be dense, sweetheart.”

ouch.

she scoffed, giving him an incredulous look. she took her hand up to slap him, but his evol stopped her dead in the air. he glanced between her hand and her eyes, a small scowl forming on his lips.

“let— me— go!” she growled, struggling against his hold.

“stop playing these games. i’m tired of them.” he sighed, letting her hand drop down to her side. his grip on her wrist loosened but it didn’t let go.

“i don’t even— ugh— know what you’re talking about!”

“do i have to spell it out for you? i don’t want you going on dates with other people.” his voice started to sound desperate, like he was trying to prevent himself from bleeding out to death. maybe he was.

her struggling paused, her eyebrows softening, then bending in confusion. she shook her head slightly.

“caleb, i—“

“i don’t want to see you with other people. you’ve been avoiding me lately and i feel like you’re doing this on purpose. why are you driving me crazy?”

“you’re so full of yourself!”

“why don’t you ask me to go places with you? have a nice dinner, walk around linkon, buy you expensive things. why? am i not enough?”

her eyes widened and snapped to his. he was dead serious.

“because… because— i don’t know. that’s weird. you wouldn’t even see me like that. jesus, just drop it, okay?”

he pulled her closer.

“why should i?”

“because this is my life and it’s my choice!” she yelled, breath heavy.

the silence was sickening, the only sound was the rain and thunder around them. a water drop from his brow splashed onto her face, falling down her cheek. his hand reached up to cup her face, thumb tracing her jaw.

“if you’re going to stand there like an idiot then go ahead and see yourself ou—“ his lips smashed onto hers with a jolting force.

his lips moved against hers, but she couldn’t even respond. couldn’t even register what was happening. like she was in a dream but with sleep paralysis. she wanted to move but she didn’t know how.

her arms moved first, wrapping around his slick neck, lips finally moving with his. their teeth clashed for a second, trying to find a steady rhythm. his tongue swiped across her bottom lip as an invitation, her mouth opening for him. he groaned against her lips as his tongue met hers, the sweet taste of her dancing on his buds.

one hand gripped her cheek for dear life and the other went to claw at her hip, fingers dangerously close to her ass. he pulled her closer, her chest pressing hard onto his.

she moaned at his teeth biting her bottom lip and tugging, mouths finally separating to breathe. she didn’t want to open her eyes and look at him, scared and nervous. this was all she had ever wanted. still, she was terrified.

“look at me.” he whispered, jerking her lightly, as if to wake her up from her dream.

her eyelids peeled open slowly, first finding his swollen lips covered in spit. then trailed up to his nose. then those eyes— god, those eyes. she thought she would drown in them.

“tell me you want this. that i’m not crazy, please, pips…” he whined.

she blinked several times before swallowing her pride. she couldn’t even lie to him right now. she was drunk off his kiss.

“i need you so fucking bad caleb.” she admitted, chest rising and falling. her hands pet the back of his neck, stroking softly.

he choked out a needy sob, lips finding hers once more.

“shit, i can’t even fucking think straight right now.” he murmured against her as she made out with him.

“then don’t.” she whispered back, resuming their kiss.

he moaned as she pulled him impossibly closer. his hands went down to her thighs, lifting her up and carrying her as they kissed each other like their lives depended on it. in a way, their lives did depend on it.

their lips separated for another brief period so that he could focus on walking them into her room. she lifted her dress off of her in one swoop, tossing it to the ground carelessly. she cupped his cheek and dragged his mouth to hers once more, sucking onto his tongue deliciously.

he walked them over to the edge of her bed, finishing their kiss before plopping her down. she stared up at him with glossy eyes and puffy lips. she bit her bottom lip as he took his jacket and then his shirt off, chest broad and fit. it wasn’t even her first time seeing him shirtless. yet it made her impossibly horny. she wanted nothing more than to ride on him while palming his abs.

“pips…” his eyes drank in her figure, bra straps loosely hanging off of her shoulders, tits begging to be released from their hold. not to mention her underwear, small and thin with barely and coverage. her folds basically were popping around the sides, obvious that her thongs were too small for her. he didn’t know where to begin.

she moved forward, hands undoing his belt sloppily. she unbuttoned and unzipped him, pulling both his pants and underwear down in one go.

she couldn’t help but lightly gasp at just how huge he was. there in front of her was his veiny, monster cock. it stood red and proud, needing to be taken care of.

“holy shit.” is all she managed to blurt out.

he carressed her cheek softly, letting her take him in. he was flustered beyond words, but tried to keep his confidence high. he didn't even know how they ended up like this, him naked and hard in front of her. he wasn't complaining. just confused.

"lay on your back." his words came out like honey.

she laid back, pushing up further onto the bed so he could crawl towards her. she propped her knees up, opening herself up to him. it was quite the sight to behold. as he drew closer she hooked her legs over his meaty shoulders, feet rubbing sensually onto his back.

“shit, baby. wanna touch you so bad. can i touch you?” he begged, hands gripping onto the plush of her thighs tightly.

her breathe hitched at his pet name, never having called her baby before. she nodded fast, her stomach doing flips. she needed him like she needed air right now.

“please, caleb. need you.” she whined, hips thrusting into nothing.

he chuckled softly, hands trailing down to her crotch. his swiped his index finger softly in between her folds, slick sopping around her entrance and completely wrecking the fabric of her underwear.

she hissed at the contact, biting her lip. she would give anything for him to hurry up and finger her.

“so wet for me. all for me.”

“yes,” she breathed out, “all for you caleb. please, i can’t—“

he ripped her underwear to the side, two fingers dipping inside of her.

“fuck!” she yelped, hips swiveling to his slow push.

his fingers hooked inside of her, curling and caressing her insides so deliciously. she could see stars.

he watched her as she furrowed her brows in pleasure, mouth slightly agape. she was going stupid on his fingers. just her expression alone could make him cum.

“you like that? like it when i play with your pretty little cunt, hm? tell me, sweetheart.” he was toying with her.

she nodded feverishly, hands gripping onto her sheets with white knuckles.

“yes, yes, yes, i fucki-ing love it, baby. please keep going oh god.” she blushed with a deep crimson.

his thumb went to play with her clit, rubbing in slow, deadly circular motions. he watched her fall apart, hips stuttering with stimulation.

“yes, just like that sweetheart. god, you look so gorgeous. you’re like a dream. been thinking about having you like this for so long.”

she sobbed, moans coming out in long whines. her stomach muscles were straining and sweat beaded around her skin. she was grinding onto his hand with a animal-like ferocity.

“i’m gonna cum if you k-keep doing that, ah shit!” she cried out. her fingers gripped into his hair, pulling harshly.

his head dove down in between her legs, tongue replacing his thumb and flicking onto her. she screamed, a few hairs getting ripped out from his scalp. he groaned, vibrating against her in the most sinful way.

“cum in my mouth.” he commanded, lapping up all over her.

she was so loud, she might wake her neighbors up. she melted under his tongue and fingers, each sensation drawing her orgasm to the surface.

“m’cumming, shit, yes, yes, yes, don’t st-stop caleb, oh fuck!” she rolled her hips in circles as her orgasm slammed into her.

he removed his fingers to replace it with his tongue, drinking her slick up as she came onto his mouth. she stared down at his face, barely even seeing him due to how buried he was onto her pussy. he moaned and made disgusting eating noises against her, tongue curling and then flattening against her.

with one final drag from the bottom to the top of her folds, he came back up, eyes darkened with lust. his lips kissed up the sides of her inner thigh, sucking dark hickeys into her skin. she moaned with each bite and pull.

“caleb…”

he landed a final kiss before lifting himself up onto his knees between her legs. he moved her legs off of his shoulders so he could pull her underwear off completely. he dragged it off slowly and sensually, kissing her ankle. when they finally came off he stuffed her soaking thong to his nose, inhaling deeply and letting out the guttural moan. his eyes rolled to the back of his head, mouthing at the fabric.

she thought she might die from it all.

“fuck, princess. smells so fucking good.” his dick was harder than it had ever been.

“y-you…” she stuttered, not even knowing how to react properly. she was jaded by her life-changing orgasm and the worlds hottest man sniffing her panties. it was all too much.

he finally tossed them aside, eyes piercing down onto hers.

“take your bra off.”

she gulped, propping up onto her elbows. she unclasped the hook to her garment with deft fingers. she pulled it off slowly, breasts spilling out. the cold air hit her bare skin, nipples rock hard. she tossed the article aside, laying back down.

caleb’s hand went up to touch her, not knowing which breast to start with. his fingers pinched her nipple, rolling it in between the pads of his fingertips. she hissed, biting her lip harshly.

“so beautiful. been wanting to see you like this. knew you would be so pretty, pip-squeak. just knew it.”

she whined with ecstasy, completely under the mercy of his addicting touch.

“could say the same about you.” she murmured, back arching into his touch as he groped and massaged her breast.

“yeah?” he cocked an eyebrow, biceps flexing with how hard he was working his hand onto her tits.

“mhmm. so big and strong, caleb. ever since seeing you it’s all i could think about. just want you to manhandle me.” she tried to sound as sexy as she could, but she was incredibly embarrassed, cheeks betraying her confident words.

he chuckled, lips curling into a small smirk.

“oh yeah? tell me more.” his other hand went down to his cock, wrapping around it and stroking slowly.

“yeah, um, and i would come home. touch myself to you, thinking about how fit you are. how you would fuck me so well. just kept imagining how you would feel inside me.” she stuttered, watching in awe as he stroked himself lazily in front of her. his hand slapped her tit hard, then massaged it. she yelped out.

“fuck, you’re dirty. you’ve got quite the mouth on you, pips.”

she was crimson all over her face, lips pouting.

“cock is so big, caleb. how is it so big?” she whined, hips rising as if to beg him to insert it.

he whimpered, squeezing himself hard. he wiggled it hard, is if to shake it awake from this dream. he lined it up with her entrance, slapping the tip onto her wet folds. it smacked three to four times, each one sending her into oblivion. she cried, bucking into his touch.

“wanna see if it’ll fit?”

“fuck… yes, please. please stuff it inside me.” she begged like a child, voice nasally.

“tell me how bad you want it.”

she groaned in annoyance, in disbelief that he can be such a tease. he was even a little shit in bed too. some things never changed. she rolled her eyes at the cocky smile that was plastered onto his face. that beautiful god damn face.

“i want you to fill me up with your huge fucking cock, caleb. i need you to fuck me now. like yesterday, actually.”

he barked out a laugh.

“such a needy little slut.”

she couldn’t believe her ears, heat pooling all over her. she could die from his words. she was pretty sure she was already dead.

“caleb, i swear to god if you don’t—“

all of the sudden he slammed himself into her, unforgiving and tearing through her like a knife. he was only halfway inside because of how tight she was, not used to such a huge object inside of her. her dildo was only half the size of him. she screamed out, hands scrambling to purchase anything to hold onto. they settled for his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

“just a little m-more, princess. open up. so damn tight— shit.”

she grunted, eyes piercing at him.

"i'm trying! you're just too fucking big caleb, jesus christ." she tried to be as mad as she could but the moan that stumbled out of her mouth failed her as he wiggled deeper inside of her.

his breath fanned over her face, jaw clenched as he finally pushed all of his length inside of her. she was being absolutely split in half, legs trembling with the weight of him between her.

"oh shit. shit, shit, shit!" she cried out, feeling his hips start to move slowly but surely.

he huffed out a laugh, hand gripping onto her hip as he steadied himself. his veins that trailed down his v-line bulged with each thrust, pumping all the blood to his thick cock.

"holy fuck. squeezing the shit out of me, baby. gonna fuck you so good this pussy's gonna remember the shape of me." he gutted out, hips starting to slam into her harder with each word.

her tits bounced up and down with each thrust, stomach jiggling softly. she swore she could feel him in her fucking guts.

"fuck yes, please, caleb, harder please!"

he groaned out in pure primal desire, lips attaching onto her neck and clamping down with his teeth. he bit her so hard it drew blood, teeth leaving an imprint onto her supple skin. his hips were moving faster with each time his cock drew in and out, the smacking of their skin growing louder than the thunder outside. the lights flickered as lightning struck outside next to her window, power almost giving out.

"feels. so. good. jesus, baby. look at you." his hand gripped her chin hard, yanking it to the side so she could watch herself getting rammed in her full length mirror. she thanked her lucky stars that she put that mirror there. she cried out in bliss, watching as caleb stared into her soul through the reflection. his thumb crept up to her mouth, letting her suck and bite down on it.

"look how fucking sexy you look, taking my dick so well." he hummed, whines following after.

she let out high-pitched moans in rhythm with each time his cock slammed into her cervix, watching herself get absolutely dominated by him. she could watch it all day. it made her clench around him, eliciting a long string of whimpers from him. he sounded boyish, surrendering completely to the feeling of her walls surrounding him.

his thumb dragged down slowly out of her mouth, salvia trailing down her chin. her eyes went back to look at him in front of her, batting her eyelashes in seduction. he leaned down to kiss her slowly, mouthing onto her bottom lip. he licked up the saliva that drooled down her chin, hand wrapping around her wrists and pinning them above her head.

"tell me you love this dick."

"i love your dick so much, caleb. can't fucking stand it." she responded quicker than the lightning that struck outside. the light illuminated her, curves accentuated.

"yeah? love it so much you could take it forever?"

she nodded her head and hummed out in agreement, mouth agape with the most obnoxious sounds coming out.

"love you so fucking much." she whined out, not even realizing the weight of her words that she had just admitted to him.

sure, she had said she loved him before. but it was never under this context. his hips faltered, dick twitching inside of her. he choked slightly, hands tightening their grip around her restrained wrists.

"say it again."

"i love you, i love you, i love you— shit!" she let herself go, climax about to hit her like a ton of bricks.

"love you too, sweet girl."

and with that she was cumming onto him like there was no tomorrow, crying out in utter bliss. he watched her as she fell apart, letting go of her hands so she could grip his chest, fingers pressing hard into his skin. her legs tightened around his waist, hips circling with her waves.

"cu-mming so— fucking— hard, oh god, caleb!" she was tearing up, eyes glistening with an indescribable pleasure.

he leaned forward to kiss her crashing tears, cupping her cheek softly.

"pretty girl. my sweet baby." he cooed, hips slowing to a gentler pace.

"caleb, please cum inside of me, please. wanna feel you inside." she sobbed.

he let out a sob, head dropping with defeat. he couldn't believe this predicament. he didn't even think he was awake right now.

"shit, are you sure? you have to tell me now or it's gonna be— ugh— too fucking late, sweetheart."

her gaze met with his, pulling him into a soft kiss.

"just cum inside of me, please. don't make me ask twice, baby." she mouth against his lips, making out with him passionately.

he groaned against her mouth, hips smacking against her hard as he rutted sloppily inside her.

"c-cumming. i'm cumming, baby." he grunted against her, their lips hovering over eachother. she breathed in his moans as his release filled her up in ways she didn't think was possible.

she squeezed down on him, milking him to death. he whimpered with each ounce of cum spilling into her, kissing down her jawline.

their chests were slick on top of each other, her breasts squished against his pecks. her fingers traced down his back as he thrusted through his orgasm, back muscles pulsing under her touch. with two final thrusts, he slowed, pulling away to look at her.

"shit." he muttered, hands feeling around her everywhere. he could feel his seed trying to push past his cock where he was plugging her up.

"yeah." she hummed back, a small smile curling at the corner of her lips.

he gripped her face and wiggled it around, biting his lip.

"good girl." he approved, his cock twitching lifelessly in her pussy.

her cheeks flushed with her arousal, chest rising and falling with her heavy breathing. she could stay like this forever. he let out a small laugh, a sideways cocky smile forming onto his face. he slowly pulled out of her, cum spilling out soon after. he winced as his cock fell out of her, missing her already. she cried softly, holding onto his chest for dear life. she had never felt so empty in her life before.

"caleb..."

he ignored her, dipping his head down to her folds to lick a thick stripe onto her. she yelped out, hand smacking over her mouth in shock. he lapped up their juices, tongue swirling around inside of her.

"holy shit, caleb, i can't—" she was absolutely taken aback from his brazenness. he was so disgusting in the best possible way.

"think you can cum again for me, just one more time?" he begged against her pussy.

"shit, yes, please!" she couldn't have agreed any faster.

never in her life had she came more than once, now here she was, working up to her third orgasm of the night. she just knew caleb would be fucking good at this. dreamt about this shit everytime she was alone, touching herself.

"taste— mhmph— so good, it's addicting. love eating you out, like a fucking dream come true." he made out with her folds, lewd sounds of his lips squelching against her wetness. she couldn't help but cry aloud, thinking she would lose her voice for sure come morning.

"caleb, why are you— ugh, fuck, yes!— so good at this?" she didn't even think she wanted to know the answer to that.

he smiled against her, chuckles sending shockwaves through her. he began to flick his tongue devilishly fast, her orgasm already coming over her. her hands threaded into his soft hair, nails digging deep into his scalp. she fucked herself into his mouth, legs shaking from the overstimulation.

"oh god, caleb!" she came undone onto his tongue, feeling every ounce of goodness that was in her. he lapped at her incredibly well, humming along with her climax.

he kissed her gently against her cunt, fingers squeezing onto the plush of her thigh.

"wanna kiss you." she sighed, pulling him up from her crotch.

he complied, crawling back up to his love.

they kissed softly and slowly, the taste of them exchanging between their tongues. he caressed her cheek, her hands petting through his hair. when they pulled apart, he rested his head onto her chest, collapsing beside her. he was absolutely fucked out.

she played with his hair while he traced nonsense onto the valley of her chest. the rain was still pouring like crazy, wind slamming it into her window. she glanced outside, watching as it slanted sideways. it must have been a monsoon.

"hey." he muttered.

she kept her gaze on the weather.

"hmm?"

"don't go out with other guys. don't like it."

she turned back to look at him, tugging his hair hard.

"you just made me cum three times, caleb. come on."

he huffed a laugh out, rolling his eyes.

"yeah. still."

she leaned down to plant a kiss to the top of his head.

"i want this. i want you." she whispered.

his heart skipped a beat, fingers pressing firmly into her skin. he watched as it left a red imprint, then slowly faded back to normal. he hooked his hand around the handle of her hip, pulling her tightly into his grip.

"mhmm. i've wanted you since the moment i laid eyes on you."

she hid her surprise, not sure if she really should have been. she let them sit in silence again, enjoying their presence together. it was comfortable and warm.

"don't leave me again. ever." it was a command.

he looked up at her with a distant sadness in his eyes. he promised himself he would never put her through that pain again. he used his free hand to brush her fringe aside and away from her forehead.

"never."

[clockwayswrites]

Mx. Minx: ch2 p3

You all voted yesterday, so Minx is back! masterpost this is a first draft, please no editing or concrit <3

Danny pushed the shirt up and off in one motion. There was the sharp hiss of a breath. Jason closed his eyes.

“Oh Boss, they really did a number, didn’t they?” Danny crooned.

“Sometimes it’s easier to take a hit than dodge,” Jason replied.

“I know.”

Jason hated that Danny knew.

“I’ve got some amazing bruise cream though,” Danny continued. “And luckily none of these have split so we can just do that. Sorry that it’s going to be a bit cold, but I’ll warm it up if I can.”

Jason hummed to show that he heard, but he didn’t talk. He was too afraid that if he talked, he would break the spell in place that was keeping Danny from mentioning all the other scars that lined Jason’s body. He heard a jar open, Danny moving, and then cool cream and hands pressed against his sides. A shudder of a shiver ran through him and then relief. Jason sighed and let his head drop back against the couch.

“Told you it was good,” Danny said smugly. “I took a recipe that another working girl had and tweaked it this through a lot of trial and error. Next time I make some, I’ll make you up a pot too.”

“I won’t turn that down.” Jason wondered if he could even get the recipe. It beat the stuff in the Batcave, which was really saying something, and easily beat the stuff Jason used when he hadn’t raided a Bat safe house recently.

“That’s because you’re not an idiot,” Danny said. “At least not most of the time.”

Jason gave an incredulous little snort. He got no respect in his own damn area.

Just about every other inch of his torso had been dealt with when Danny’s hands finally touched the autopsy scar. Jason flinched. He couldn’t help it.

No one touched it.

“Does this still hurt?” Danny asked, which was an easier question than any of the ones that Jason had been fearing.

“Only in my head,” Jason answered too honestly.

“Okay.” Danny leaned back and started to clean up. “I don’t have anything that will fit you, so you’ll have to go shirtless or put your old one on. If you leave it off, I can toss it in the wash.”

Jason finally opened his eyes and blinked up at the hideous popcorn ceiling and the pink neon like that raked across it. “Wash it, I guess, if you have a dryer too.”

“Yep. First big splurge was to get the units put in,” Danny said. “They’re stuffed in the kitchen, but at least I have them, you know?”

Jason did. “Thanks.”

“Sure. Open up the blue thing, it’s a pill container. Everything’s labeled so take some pain meds, okay?” Danny ordered.

The trash and Jason’s shirt went to the kitchen while Jason did as he was told and tossed back some Advil along more of the drink. Again, Jason was left feeling weird about nudity. He didn’t mind at all being shirtless, other than his scar being out, but there was something oddly intimate about it there in Danny’s apartment.

“Will you be ready to eat or do you need to sit a bit?” Danny asked, interrupting Jason’s thoughts.

Jason shook his head. “No, food would be good. Can I help get it ready?”

Danny tilted his head before shrugging. “Sure. Cabinet to the left of the sink there’s the bowls and stuff. Silverware is in the drawer. You can missing the serving spoons on the counter.”

“Got it,” Jason said and headed through the opening to the kitchen.

It was a tiny room. Two walls were taken up by the cabinets and appliances. Danny’s table, which had only two chairs, was pushed into the corner against the same wall as the door. The only window was over the sink. Despite that, the room felt almost blindingly bright with the pastel pink cabinets, blond butcher block counters, and minty walls.

Or maybe it was the discoball that hung over table that made things blinding.

(Jason tried not to be too distracted by it, he had a job to do.)

Everything was right were Danny had said it would be and he indeed could not miss the old ceramic pot crammed full of spatulas, serving spoons, and the like, so Jason got everything out before he opened the rice cooker to check if it was done. It seemed good enough, so he made a bed of it in the bottom of the bowls. The lid to the crockpot came off next and the small space filled with the smell of spices, meat, stewed vegetables.

“Not bad for barely any work, is it?” Danny asked as he appeared in the kitchen.

“Pretty damn amazing,” Jason corrected as he spooned the goulash like mix over the rice.

“I have water, tea, or some craft beers,” Danny said, arm resting on the fridge door as he frowned into it.

“Water’s fine.”

“Ice?”

“Nah.”

It took a bit of shuffling around each other to get everything and themselves to the table, but nothing spilled so Jason figured it worked. And the food was damn good.

“Thanks,” Jason said, head bent over his bowl. Thanks for the help. The food. The meds. Thanks for caring.

“Anytime, Hood, anytime.”

[boom-bakugou]

‘Busy Woman’ - Katsuki Bakugou

summary: the only way you can get your ex-boyfriend katsuki out your head is if you keep yourself busy, busy, busy.

pairing: katsuki bakugou x gn!reader (also besties mina, uraraka, jirou and momo)

themes & cw: angst, ex-lovers, alcohol consumption, smut, dirty talk, biting, praise etc

word count: 5k

a/n: hi friends, remember me? i’ve recently regained my love for writing again and i really missed this fandom and this account. i hope to write much more in the coming future and thank you always for the support and love i have received before and during my hiatus. you’re all lovely souls, enjoy <3

masterlist

You stared at your phone screen through your cocoon of your blankets as the girls group chat lit up. Persistent pleadings from them all to come to dinner tonight, ‘just us girls’—‘for old times sakes’.

You can’t help but let your heart swell at their desperate begs to just see you. You, however, decide to send a photo of yourself wrapped in your robe, blankets, pillows, and puffy eyes from which was the last reminder that you were crying about your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend Katsuki Bakugou not even half an hour ago.

The heart reacts flood in despite you noting that this photo was forever for this groupchat’s eyes only, until Mina sends a rather threatening text.

Mina: That’s it, Uraraka and I are on our way.

Surely there was no getting out of this now.

Their arrival was swift, too swift in fact that you have to presume Mina must’ve sped her way there. They’re onto you in seconds, having been with you throughout most of the breakup anyway but this was the first time you’d been out in a long long time.

Prepped with hands full of outfits and eyeliner, they got right to work—after urging you to take a shower and being handed every exfoliator, moisturiser and essential oil known to man by Mina. Happy with their work, they set on doing their own makeup with you. Telling you about their lives, carefully dodging Bakugou in every concept even though your circles were so close.

As Mina stands, looking perfect with a dark rose lipstick and spiky eyelashes—offers to do your hair whilst you scroll through your phone. Graciously, you accept, giving a questionable look to her though at the monster of a hairspray can she had brought with her.

The three of you idly hum along to Uraraka’s ‘Hype Getting Ready Mix’ until you refresh your instagram. Bakugo’s familiar profile picture hovers beneath your thumbs and—hiding the phone deftly in front of your face—you click.

You see the clinking of pint glasses, the caption written in a bold literature font in the middle:

Cheers. Onto bigger and better things.

Ouch. You could feel yourself obliterate into a million pieces as the timer ran out and moved onto another story. You don’t even realise how much you’re welling up into the first tear spills and you hear yourself sniff. Mina, noticing your silence from a song the three of you normally sung together all the time pipes up.

”Y/N? What’s wrong?”

Her eyes glance down to your phone screen, Bakugo’s profile picture greyed out from whence you last viewed it. Putting down her tools, she picks your phone up and replays it for her own viewing—brow furrowed the whole time. It feels like years before you speak again, Uraraka staring at you both as she’s also just viewed it for the first time.

”Did you guys just invite me out so I wouldn’t see this?” You mumble, half accusatory but it loses its vigor towards the end of your sentence.

”Of course I knew they were going out—“ Mina bites the inner part of her cheek in anger. “Just not that he’d be a douchebag.”

”He just got a promotion at the agency he’s at.” Uraraka pipes up, she’d probably heard as much from Izuku. “Maybe it’s about that.”

That quells your nerves for a moment, what had you even ever done but love that man for him to say something like that. No, he wouldn’t—couldn’t—be that cruel.

”Yeah you’re right.” You give a half smile to your friends but it does nothing to stop one tear that rolls down your cheek as you tilt your head to look at them both.

Mina tuts sarcastically, running to your bathroom before running back with a tissue.

”Well aren’t I glad I used my waterproof setting spray?”

You can’t help but giggle at her.

”Look,” she starts softly, “you can cry about him, or you can turn into someone he’s scared to know.”

────────────────────

Dinner is fantastic. You didn’t realise how much the laughter filled you up, leaning on these girls you’ve been with for most of your life. Nothing matters apart from the conversation, the memories, the food and oh god the expensive wine Momo’s decided to get for the table. It’s delectable, all of it, and you lap up every moment as if it would be your last.

Jirou’s jokes make your ribs hurt, Mina reveals that she’s brought her Polaroid camera—one of her new impulse purchases. You smile at the group of you all for the camera, the waiter cracking a joke and taking a good few of you all. Mina passes them around the dinner table after dessert and during cocktails so everyone can take a picture for you all to keep.

You arrange them all prettily on your story, Momo adding little drawings over your shoulder whilst Jirou argues over what the choice of music should be when you posted it. And no matter what they said, you were happy with however they wanted it to look. You post it on your story with no care in the thought, watching as Mina calls the waiter over again for another round of cocktails.

You accept your fruity little drink from Mina with a cheeky glance, quickly looking at your phone. That’s when the tonne of bricks hits you again.

Missed call from Katsuki Bakugou.

Momo feels you tense beside her, her eyes flickering from your phone to back to you.

”You’re not going to call back are you?”

”No, of course not.” You roll your eyes with your words, as if the statement was obvious. But you could see the sad smiles from Uraraka and Mina across the table.

It also didn’t particularly help that after 3 more cocktails and a couple shots, mouth slurring over your words you whispered to Mina:

“I’d take him back in a heartbeat, Min.”

She says nothing, but gives you a soft smile.

────────────────────

A few months later, your mornings now start before the sun. You never allow your alarm to blare, only buzz you awake. Taking the morning at its fullest, moisturiser, black coffee with a splash of oat milk. Your favourite book on your coffee table.

Your calendar was always filled to the brim—pro hero meetings, workouts, late-night dinner with the girls. You would even double book yourself sometimes just to avoid that quiet. Giggling at brunch with a pair of Mina’s oversized sunglasses, crystalline goblets filled with mimosas catching the light. At the end of the day, you’re posting a story for your new growing pro-hero fame. Leaning against a rooftop railing, a contemplative song you’d always loved in the background.

Yet the truth is always tucked between the lines. The way you always leave one headphone out, just in case a familiar voice might call your name. The way you still keep your phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ after that dinner. Not because you really want peace—but because you’re not fully sure if you could take seeing his name lighting up your screen again.

Your fans call you inspiring. Glowing. Strong.

They don’t see your late nights, where you lie in bed with your phone hovering over your face, thumb dangling over old messages you can’t bring yourself to delete.

They don’t see the moments you catch yourself in your reflection and remind yourself,

You’re not them anymore. You’re not the person he left.

Mina catches you deep in thought sitting on the Shinkansen with her and Jirou, clicking her fingers in your face as you remember what’s happening. Yes, clubbing with the girls.

”Are you okay with that Y/N?” Mina asks you, her brow threatening to furrow as she holds back her worried expression. “Kiri said he might not even show up, he didn’t reply to their texts.”

And oh yes, Mina said that the boys were probably going to be there too.

“Yeah,” You reply a little breathless, shaking your head to her as if it was the most obvious thing on the planet, “I’m here to dance with my girls after all!”

────────────────────

The thrum of the bass and the spill of the lights is so very enticing. Almost all anxiety washes away as Jirou and Mina take you hand and hand through the crowd of people to the bar. After a few drinks for confidence—not that Mina needed any—you were finally pulled on the dance floor.

Feeling as if every arm movement changed the note and the colour of the lights and hearing the two girls beside you whoop and holler at your well fitted club outfit—you couldn’t help but smile. Only every now and then would your eyes check the door. A glance. A flicker. Just in case.

”It’s my round!” You shout over the heavy thrum of a song you three weren’t particularly excited to dance to, you waver them on over to follow you to the bar. Mina gestures that she’s going to head to the bathroom and meet Jirou and you there for her drink.

You lean across the bar so the bartender can hear you over the music to order your drinks and try your best to chat to Jirou over the music. Until Mina, a little breathless, slips back to you two.

“Boys are here.” She winces a tad before adding gently, “Bakugou included.”

The world doesn’t spin. It slows.

”I said my hellos, but told them that we’re in the mood for dancing so we’re busy just now.” Mina gives you a little wink as the bartender places your drinks down.

”Anything else?” He questions, reaching for the card machine. You look to the crowd, then your friends before biting your lip and turning back to him.

”Could I get 3 tequila shots as well please?”

This earns a whoop from the girls. You pay, each take your shot and make your way to the busiest part of the dance floor, begging to be hidden with the crowd of bodies. Yet, as the heat of the dancing and the alcohol take over you, you can’t help but let loose—especially considering Jirou and Mina are.

You’re lost in the music with such a smile on your face until the crowd parts a little. And there he is. Bakugou, on the other side of the floor, flanked by Kirishima and Sero on one of the high tables at the side. You glance for a moment, hoping that you had just caught his eye by accident. But his eyes aren’t moving, just locked on you.

He doesn’t seem to give any notion to approach, so neither do you. Trying to not let Mina and Jirou notice what’s silently going on in your head. But the weight of that gaze burns.

Immediately feeling your dance moves become less focused and fun. Mina scowls toward Bakugou from across the floor, leading the three of you further into the dance pit.

”Ignore him,” Jirou’s eyes roll. “He shouldn’t get to look at you like that anymore.”

Yet, you can’t help but wonder— what was he seeing?

────────────────────

Days are quieter now. The party phase has passed, but you’re still just as busy filling your life up with things—just in quieter ways. Pro-hero late night work, lighting candles and journaling in margins. Your posts are now less curated, more real: blurry sunsets, a caption about exhaustion, a book you’re rereading for the 3rd time just for comfort.

Then you see it.

A text. From him.

Bakugou: You busy?

You don’t answer, how could you? What were you to say? You pace your room until your phone vibrates on your bed again, another message:

Bakugou: Can I see you?

────────────────────

It’s been months, hell, nearly a year. And Katsuki is still not over you, despite his own brain telling him it was the right thing to do to end things. He watches from a distance—never liking your posts, never commenting, but seeing them all. Your laugh, your clothes, the places he never went but promised he’d go with you. Your happiness.

At first, he told himself it was good. That you deserve this. He couldn’t give you soft things, couldn’t be gentle with his own emotions, let alone yours. But tonight he’s avoided it for long enough. He really thought he could let you go. Let you thrive. Let you forget about him. It was his own doing, and oh god how he regretted every inch of himself since the moment those words passed his lips.

But he never forgot you.

He’s watched every step of your recovery of him like a ghost—existing on the outskirts of your life always looking in. And the more you grew, the more he felt that the hollow space you left behind expanded. A hole he tore open himself.

So he decides to do something. Reckless. Without the backup, or forewarnings of Kirishima, Denki and Sero. He texts you.

You busy?

Can I see you?

He can barely believe his eyes when he sees your reply.

Y/N: It’s late Bakugou, what do you want?

Katsuki’s heart beats so loud it’s the only thing he can focus on. With bated breath, he begins his reply.

Just come downstairs okay?

There’s about 5 minutes before you respond. Each pound of his beating heart trying to escape his chest.

Y/N: ok.

────────────────────

You walk towards him with a newfound calm confidence. Trying to tell yourself that you’re better than whatever this was, but at least you’re not the one at his doorstep in the middle of the night. Tension weighs like a blanket in the air. Bakugou is standing under a lamppost with the same unreadable scowl that once scared people— but not you. No, never you.

”Didn’t think you were actually here.” You say quietly. “Had to come see for myself.”

Bakugou’s eyes glint in the dark, presumably reading past your false ‘walls-up’ stature.

”Didn’t think you’d answer.” He replies with an unexpected softness.

You have nothing to say, how could you? So you stare at him in the cold night air, expecting for him to maybe slur something out to you. Presuming him to be drunk. But Bakugou has never felt so sober in his whole life as he drank in your frame. Breath hitching from the cold, your long jacket clung to your body defensively as you stare at him from across the gap between you both,

”I saw everything.” He finally admits, voice breaking through the silence. “The pictures. Your friends. The clubs. You look good, look… happy.”

You stay quiet. Let him talk.

”And it tore me up.”

Bakugou finally looks you in the eyes. The same eyes you’ve always been in love with. That fervorous red that you could read a million different emotions from that no other could.

”I messed up. I pushed you away ‘cause I thought I was protecting you. From me. From this… chaotic, fucked up version of a life we live. I couldn’t ever bear to lose you, so I pushed you away.” He continues to rant. His hands flex at his sides, sparks popping involuntarily against his palms before he forces them still. “But I never stopped thinking about you. Not once. Not even for a goddamn second.”

Bakugou’s voice breaks slightly at the end, you can tell he’s biting back tears—but he steadies himself.

”I was proud of you. Watching you become someone I couldn't touch anymore? That’s what gutted me. I couldn’t move on, couldn’t imagine what we would've been if I hadn’t let my stupid anxieties get in the way.”

He stands up straighter, stepping closer to you to enclose the gap that separated you. You hadn’t even noticed yourself, but unconsciously you found yourself pulled to him, magnetised to his words.

”I don’t want someone else. I never have never did. I just want you. Even if it’s stupid. Even if you hate me. I just need you to know.”

You could walk away, you should, but you don’t.

”You hurt me,” You finally say, voice trembling. “You really hurt me Katsuki.”

”I know.” He replies, god, he wished he could hear you say his name a million times over and he’d never be sick of it.

”But I never stopped thinking about you either.” You sigh, your eyes flittering to the ground beneath you.

Bakugou is silent, with his eyes wide and his breath caught like a fish in a net. You look up to his slightly stunned expression, taking a step forward. Just to close the distance, to where you two were barely arms length from one another.

”So now what?” You whisper.

Bakugou has no room for words anymore in his brain. He’s poured out his heart which is what he thought he was less than capable of and now he can only think to act. His answer to you isn’t words— it's his hand brushing your cheek, and his mouth finding yours in a kiss that’s equal parts apology and desperation.

Your breath catches as his lips press against yours, warmth flooding through you despite the chill in the air. For a heartbeat, you begin to stiffen—old wounds flaring—before melting into him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

When you both part, you exhale shakily, his forehead coming down to rest upon yours. You try to talk, your voice is barely above a whisper, laced with reluctant affection.

"You're still such a mess, Bakugo."

Your eyes dart back to his lips, missing the feeling of them there, his warmth, his taste.

“Kiss me again.” You speak so quietly you think the wind would take your words away as if you never spoke them.

“Still so fuckin’ demanding, aren’t ya?” Bakugou’s lips curl into a smirk. There’s a low growl rumbling from his throat but there’s no real bit behind it—just heat, just hunger. His palm cups the back of your neck roughly, pulling you flush against him as his mouth crashes into yours again. This time, it’s less hesitation and more possession, all fire and urgency like he’s trying to make up for every second wasted apart. Sparkles crackle faintly against your skin where his fingers dig in, but he reigns it in, keeping the explosions simmering beneath the surface instead of letting them erupt. When he finally—reluctantly—pulls back, his breathing is ragged, pupils blown wide.

”Happy now?” He mutters, thumb swiping roughly over your bottom lip like he can’t help himself.

”Oh shut up,” You breathe, pressing another quick, teasing kiss to his mouth before leaning back just far enough to meet his burning gaze.

”I’ve got loads of lost time to make you pay for Katsuki. Don’t act like one damn kiss fixes anything.” There's a challenge in your tone, but the way your free hand traces idle patterns along his collarbone betrays your softer truth underneath—that you’d forgive him a thousand times over if it meant keeping him close like this. You shiver as another breeze hits you in the night.

”Do you want to come up to mine? Get out the cold?”

”Tch,” he grumbles, but the way his fingers immediately tighten around your waist gives him away entirely. “About time you asked.”

Without warning, he scoops you up bridal-style, ignoring your indignant squawk as he starts marching toward the building like a man on a mission.

”Quick wriggling, brat. Faster this way,” he barks, though the rough edge in his voice does nothing to hide the fact that his ears are turning pink.

You loop your arms around his neck, pressing a playful kiss to his heated ears with a breathless laugh.

“God, you’re insufferable,” You tease with an undeniable fondness in your voice. As you both reach the door, you fumble for your keys, shooting him a sly glance.

”And here I thought heroes were supposed to be patient.”

You do your best from your angle to unlock the door, Bakugou keeping his tightest grip on you as he steps in the threshold, kicking your apartment door shut harder than necessary with his foot.

”Patient? The hell kinda extras have you been hanging around with?” The second the door clicks that it’s locked, Bakugou sets you down. Pinning you against the nearest wall, caging you with his body. One hand braces your head while the other grips your thigh to hitch around his hip. His breath fans hot against your lips, voice dropping to a dangerous rasp.

”Real heroes take what they want.”

Then he’s kissing you again—deep, claiming, all tongue and teeth and zero restraint. Like he’s determined to brand himself into your memory so you never forget who owns you ever again. You gasp against his mouth, nails digging into his shoulders as he presses you further into the wall. Every inch of you burns under his touch, arching instinctively into him.

”Is that right?” You manage between kisses, “Prove it then, Dynamight.”

Throwing challenge down like gasoline on open flame—because if there’s one thing Katsuki Bakugou never backs down from, it’s proving he’s the best. Especially when it comes to you.

“Cheeky little shit,” he grows against your lips, pinning your wrists above your head against the wall with one large hand. His other, trails down your side possessively calloused fingertips leaving fire in their wake. Every moment or two an unrestrained spark jumps from his fingertips, his instinct taking over.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” His words vibrate against your skin, and the predatory intensity in his eyes could make you melt.

Then he’s dragging you toward the bedroom with single-minded determination. Knowing the way still like he’d ever left, he works on stripping off his own shirt mid-stride because he has waited long enough. He needs to make up for everything the best way he knows how.

Laughter bubbles within you despite the dizzying rush of desire as he pulls you towards your bedroom. Your back hits the mattress, and you prop yourself up on your elbows, watching him with half-lidded eyes as he yanks his shirt off.

”Mmm, someone’s eager,” you purr, toeing off your shoes before reaching up for him. Your fingers trace the defined lines of his abdomen, reveling in the way his scarred muscles tense beneath your touch.

”Eager?” He grits out, catching your wandering wrist and pinning it beside your head as he cages over you. “Try fucking starving.”

His knee nudges your legs apart, settling between them with a. Low grown when he feels how affected you already are. That cocky grin of his turns downright feral as he drags his teeth along your pulse point.

“Better scream loud enough for the whole building, baby. Let them know who’s making you feel this good again.”

A sharp gasp escapes you as his teeth graze your neck, hips arching impulsively against his. Your free hand fists in his blonde spikes, tugging just hard enough to force his fiery gaze back to yours.

”As if I’d ever let anyone else try,” You say with a voice thick with promise—then you’re surging up to capture his mouth again, pouring every ounce of frustration, longing and sheer need into it.

“Damn right you won’t,” he rasps against your lips before sealing them with another searing kiss. His free hand makes quick work of the rest of your clothes, tossing them aside with impatient roughness. When skin meets skin, he lets out a guttural noise— half triumph, half desperation— as his calloused palms map every curve like he’s memorising you all over again. Odysseus returning home from war, to his Penelope. His.

Suddenly, he pauses, hovering above you with darkened eyes.

”Look at me,” he demands, voice gravelly with unchecked want. When you obey, he smirks—sharp, victorious—before grinding his hips down in one slow, deliberate roll that steals the breath from your lungs.

And oh, you do.

Back bowing off the bed as the pleasure ripples through you, a broken moan tearing from your throat at the friction. Your eyes locking onto his with defiant lust even as your thighs tremble around him.

“Only ever yours, Katsuki,” you pant, nails scoring down his bare back as you try to pull him impossibly closer. “Always yours.”

The admission hangs heavy between you—raw and honest in ways words alone could never convey. Then you’re rolling your hips up against his with matching intent, teeth sinking into your lower lip just to watch his control snap.

”Fuck—“ His entire body jerks at your movements a string of curses exploding from his lips as his composure cracks. In one fluid motion, He flips you onto your stomach, pressing you down into the mattress hit the full weight of his torso. Hot breath ghosts over the shell of your ear as he nips at it, voice dripping with sinful promise.

”Say it again.”

One hand tangles in your hair, tugging just shy of painful to expose your neck for his teeth while the other slides between your thighs. He knows you like an old favourite book, reading your lines as he works expertly, relentlessly on you.

”Tell the whole goddamn city who’s making you feel like this.”

A choked cry escapes you as his hand and fingers find their mark, spine arching desperately into his touch. Your fingers claw at the sheets, knuckles whitening with the effort to hold on as pleasure threatens to consume you whole.

“K-Katsuki—!” You sob his name like a prayer, voice crackling under the onslaught of sensation. “Yours, only yours—please.”

Your voice stoops low, barely a hushed whisper as you try to compose yourself to string a sentence together. “I missed you. I need you.”

The words dissolve into a keening whine as his teeth sink into the junction of your shoulder, branding me in the most primal way possible. Stars burst behind your eyelids—coherence shattered, pride obliterated, utterly ruined by the man who swore to never let you go ever again.

”I missed you being so good for me.” Bakugou rumbles against your sweat-slicked skin, the praise gruff but achingly sincere. His pace slows just enough to savour the way you fall apart beneath him—every twitch, every gasp, every whispered plea catalogued in his mind like a trophy.

Then, with a. Brutal thrust that punches the air from your lungs, he claims you completely. “Now take what‘s yours too,” he growls, fingers interlacing with yours against the mattress as he sets a punishing rhythm designed to wreck you beyond repair.

Every nerve ending alights as your bodies move in perfect sync, your cries muffled against the pillow until you can’t take it anymore—flipping onto your back to wrap both legs tightly around his waist, forcing him deeper.

You drag his forehead to yours, your shared breaths mingling in the scant space between you both. “I wanna see you when I break.”

And oh, the sight is exquisite—his features twisted in rapture, sweat-drenched bangs clinging to his brow, those usually fierce crimson eyes glazed over with his desire. Just for you, always for you.

With one final shuddering roll of your hips, you both tip over the edge, his name torn from your lips like a vow as the world whites around you.

”Sh-shit—fuck—“ Bakugou’s entire body locks up as he follows you over, forehead pressed harshly against yours as he spills inside you with ragged groans at each spurt of his cock. For several seconds, neither of you moves—just gasping, trembling, tangled together in the aftershocks.

Slowly, he collapses atop you, his spent weight warm and grounding. His fingertips are slick with sweat and you smell that familiar nitroglycerin aroma, just like caramel. He brushes a few strands of your hair from your eyes, gently, as if you might break at any further touch.

”…Still got it.” He mumbles against your neck, smug as hell despite being thoroughly wrecked himself.

You feel laughter bubbling up despite your panting, weakly shoving at his shoulder as your limbs tingle still from the intensity of it all.

”Yeah, yeah, don’t let it go to your head more than it already has,” You tease, tracing lazy circles on his back as he finds comfort beside you on your bed. Despite the exhaustion weighing heavy on your bones, contentment settles deep in your chest—a quiet certainty that this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

A beat passes, you tilt your chin to nip playfully at his earlobe.

”…but just so we’re clear, this”—you gesture between the two of you, his eyes watching you with the same fervour as always, ready to hear your gospel—“doesn’t mean you’re off the hook for being a stubborn asshole.”

He looks a tad surprised before you add softly:

”…Stay tonight?”

”Tch.” He grunts, but there’s no real irritation behind it—just drowsy satisfaction as he shifts to pull you tighter against him. “Like I’d ever leave you again.

One arm snakes under your neck while the other drapes heavily across your waist, effectively trapping you against his chest.

”’Sides,” he mutters into your hair, voice already slurring with sleep, “Gotta remind everyone who you belong to when they hear you screaming my name again in the morning.”

You could hear his shit-eating grin even from behind you, you give a playful little elbow to his abdomen before tuckering down for sleep. Feeling like you could have the best sleep with the man you love wrapped around you once again.

Within minutes, his breathing evens out—the rare, peaceful slumber of a man, who finally got what he wanted back.

[wisteria-lodge]

From a Watsonian standpoint, who do you think fell in love first between Grindelwald and Dumbledore? What about each other do you believe made them gravitate towards one another?

I think Dumbledore fell first, and Grindelwald fell harder.

Eighteen year old Albus is… lonely. It’s a loneliness coming from a few places. One is his own brilliance: Nicolas Flamel is maybe at his level, he’s a mentor slowly becoming a professional peer... but he’s all the way over in France. Elphias Doge? Half in love with Albus, half in hero-worship. That’s a problem Albus will have his entire life. He’s got people who worship him, and people work for him. But very few people who actually consider themselves to be his equal. 

Albus’ other problem is the way he’s hiding a pretty brutal home life. Ariana is dangerous and unstable (the rumors are that his sister's a squib, but he can’t confirm or deny that.) The only reason people don’t think of Albus as the son of Percival Dumbledore the Muggle killer is because Albus’ own accomplishments really are that extreme. He is the shining golden child so people don’t look too closely at what's going on within his family. No part of Albus wants to be at home with them - he wants to be away at school, he wants to be on a European tour with Elphias Dosge (and don’t tell me Elphias wasn’t low-key footing most of the bill for that trip…) 

But then his mother dies/is killed by Ariana, Albus becomes responsible for his brother and sister. Because Ariana can’t be moved, that means he’s also effectively tied to Godric’s Hollow. It’s stressful. It’s boring. Albus has no one to talk to.

And then Gellert moves in. It must’ve felt like the sun breaking through clouds. He’s beautiful. He’s fascinating. He’s on Albus’ intellectual level. And he’s not suck like Abus is. No, he’s driven, he has plans, he has incredibly grand hopes for the future. Albus would take one look at him and be - this is it. You are the answer. We are going to discover the secrets of the universe together.

Now Gellert has recently been kicked out of school for dark magic related activities, and is effectively lying low in Godric’s Hollow. But honestly, he kind of wiggled out of any serious consequences. If anything, his mindset is probably more “I’ve already learned everything Drumstrang had to teach me. Good riddance. Now I just have to wait, and think about my next move.” 

Seeing Albus for the first time probably wouldn’t have blown his socks off. Gellert (as Harry tells us, multiple times) is very handsome, while Albus is probably more… interesting looking. Good looking in an unconventional way. But Albus is clever, and would have found out who exactly his new neighbor was very quickly. He’d hear about the dark magic and… not care. Probably just be more intrigued. Albus is desperate for someone to talk to, and whatever dark magic Gellert was up to, I’m sure it had to at least be interesting. 

So Albus tracks down Gellert, and he’s asking all of these questions. All these really good questions. At first Gellert is flattered (also, he can tell that Albus has a crush on him. That’s not especially unusual, if you’re Gellert Grindlewald.)  

But once he spends a little more time with him, I think he starts getting a little awed by Albus. This isn’t like Elphias Dodges’ hero worship, this is 'I want to put Albus Dumbledore in a jar and study him.' How can he be this good? How can his well of knowledge be so deep? How does he pick up everything I show him so fast…and immediately start adding improvements. How is he able to solve these magical problems and conundrums that I’ve been struggling with so easily?

Albus starts trusting him a little bit more. He doesn’t tell anyone about the details surrounding his father attacking the muggles, or about what’s going on with Ariana. But he tells Gellert. He tells him about the pressure he feels being responsible for them. How he can’t help resenting the way his family ties him down. He wants things to be different so badly, but doesn’t know what he's supposed to do.

I think that getting to see Albus’ vulnerability this way, his darkness, his cracks - things which he doesn’t show anyone - is what gets Gellert properly falling in love with him. Albus saw his darkness and didn’t back off, and now Gellert gets to return the favor. He probably starts getting a little romantic about all this, starts attributing the fact that they met to fate, thinks of Albus as this wonderful gift the universe is giving to him… but then Gellert’s perspective kind of shifts, and he starts believing that really he’s Albus‘ gift. He’s meant to save Albus, because it’s a crime that anyone this extraordinary should truly think that they’re trapped, and that their life needs to stay so small. 

He convinces Albus to leave, says they'll be able to take Ariana with them. I bet Gellert believes it too. He and Albus are so powerful, so talented, so knowledgeable, so off the charts in every way - what could Ariana possibly do that the two of them wouldn't be able to handle? 

But then, of course, the duel happens. Ariana dies (and I do think it was probably Albus who accidentally killed her.) We know that Gellert ran right after this. But I think  this is a situation where Albus is in shock, Gellert is grabbing his arm, dragging him towards the door, saying - we’ve got to get out of here. Don’t worry, it’ll be fine, I can fix this.

Albus can’t do it. He did wrong, and he has to face his punishment (a punishment I don’t think he ever feels he actually received. The closest he gets is Aberforth breaking his nose at the funeral, which is why he lets it stay broken.) There’s a lot of dark, sticky stuff in Albus Dumbledore's psyche. Stuff I don’t think he’ll ever let anyone see - both because he’s so hyper-competent he can mask it, and because it is his job to protect people (that’s the only thing he thinks he’s good for…)  Showing people his darkness and weakness, the way he showed it to Gellert - that is the opposite of protecting them.

If he’s honest with himself, I do think there’s a part of Albus that wishes he had been weaker, that he had run with Grindelwald that day. Best case scenario - maybe he could’ve influenced him, steered him down a better path (does that mean the blood of Grindelwald‘s victims is on his hands?) Or maybe it would have gone the other way, and without Ariana's death he would have ended up a worse Dark Lord than Grindelwald ever was. But more realistically… I think Albus knows that he and Grindelwald would have eventually had a falling out. But maybe not for a couple of years. Maybe Albus could’ve ignored the red flags that long. Maybe he could have had a few years - running around Europe, being young, powerful, and in love. 

Instead, Albus goes back to Hogwarts to hide. Because he can’t trust himself anymore. He can’t trust his judgment, he can’t trust himself with any kind of power. News of Grindelwald comes every day. He’s becoming more powerful. Dumbledore could stop him - but doesn’t. I think he’s worried that he saw Grindelwald again… (if Grindelwald is still in love with him…) (of course Grindelwald is still in love with him...) If Gellert asked him to leave Hogwarts and come with him, Albus is worried that he might say yes.

But in the end, Dumbledore does face him. Grindelwald fights him with the Elder Wand, but Dumbledore still wins. I like to think it’s because Gellert just cannot bring himself to kill him. Cannot bring himself to imprison him. He loves Albus too much. Albus is a work of art he cannot bring himself to destroy or lock away.

But Albus is prepared to lock Grindelwald up. So the Elder Wand - who always knows who has the power in a dynamic - becomes Albus.’ He defeats Grindelwald, and then uses Grindelwald’s wand the rest of his life. He’s buried with it.  I do think that Albus' intention was to die the wand’s last true master, both as a favor to the world, but also as a kind of romantic gesture. Because what is Voldemort compared to Grindelwald? Voldemort doesn’t deserve that wand. Gellert dies, tortured and killed by Voldemort, refusing to give up Albus, laughing. Because he knows how good Albus is. He knows how brilliant he is. He knows how ice cold he is. And (if Gellert is honest with himself) that only makes him love Albus more. After all, he was right. Albus really was a force of nature who took over the world without anyone realizing. Voldemort doesn’t stand a chance.

[hey-itsdollie]

Hi hi!!! may I request shidou, kaiser, barou, sae, and nagi with fem!reader who is energetic and loves sports (especially soccer) Love your writing btw!! Keep up the amazing work!!!

I'm totally better than you

‧₊˚ ┊ In which the blue lock guys' gf is as into sports as they are<3

୭˚. ᵎᵎ featuring » shidou. kaiser. barou. sae. nagi.

⋮ ⌗ ┆cw ⪼ fluff, fem reader, sporty reader, established relationship

── .✦ Ryusei Shidou

“Come on, are you already tired Ryu?” You laughed dribbling the ball between your legs as your boyfriend laid on the grass. His chest raised with each heavy breath he took. “Hell yeah I’m tired! You little energy demon!” He shouted, placing his arm over his eyes to block out the blazing sun.

You laughed more kicking the soccer ball up in the air, easily doing a few tricks that you had learned from him.

“Seriously? Who’s the one that plans on going pro?” You tease earning a glare from the blonde-haired male.

You kicked the ball to his side, shortly following it and taking a seat beside him. 

“Energy demon huh?” You question glancing down at him.

“Yes, you drain my energy so you can have it as your own!” He exclaimed, waving his hands around. You looked at him hearing his dumb statement.

“You always have the worst theories. Just admit I’m better at soccer than you.”

“You are not! Having a ton of stamina doesn’t mean you’re better than me!”

“You sound like a child Ryusei.”

You stared at him unamused, Shidou continued with his childish fit as he began to complain about how annoying everything was.

── .✦ Michael Kaiser

“Come on Micha pass the ball!” You call knowing your egotistical boyfriend was teasing you on the field. He would run up to you and dodge your movements at the last second.

Kaiser chuckled, swiftly moving around you effectively not letting you steal the ball from him.

“What’s wrong liebe?” He cooed his eyes gleaming at the sight of you running towards him and trying to steal the ball. He got into a defensive stance and kept you from taking the ball.

Since it wasn’t a real match he had tripped you, right as you were falling he wrapped his arm around your waist with a smirk.

“Woah you’re falling for me already?” Kaiser teased making you scoff. Hitting his chest lightly, “You’re such a flirt.”

“Hm is it wrong to flirt with my girlfriend?” He tilt his head.

You blushed and leaned up kissing his lips to distract him. You kicked the ball from him and laughed running away. Kaiser groaned and followed after you, claiming he wouldn’t let that happen again.

── .✦ Shoei Barou

“No, I’ve seen a ton of bad reviews on those cleats.”

Currently you and your boyfriend were out shopping for new cleats. Something he had been needing for a while now, since his own were getting rather old and scuffy.

Barou set the cleats down and turned to you, knowing your knowledge on sporting wear was better than his own. “Alright, which ones did have good reviews?” he questioned looking around the shop.

You thought for a few seconds before taking his hand and pulling him into a different corner.

“Uhm recently these have been getting more mentions, when it comes to american teams, and with your build and game play these would fit you well. Wouldn’t get as messed up as the other types.”

Barou watched you grab out a box of cleats, from a brand he didn’t see often. Taking them without another thought he sat down to try them on.

“Damn these fit nicely.” He grinned moving his foot around and standing to make sure they felt right on him.

“That’s good, did you want to try some other brands?” You asked already looking around in case you found some other decent cleats for him.

“No, these are good.”

── .✦ Sae Itoshi

Sae waited near the field, everyone had left and he was holding a small gift bag in his arms. You ran out your hair newly dried, while wearing a hoodie of his and a skirt.

“Hey Sae you came!” You smiled running up to your boyfriend. The red head nodded with a small smile, of course he came to your game. You never missed one of his matches so why would he miss yours?

“Huh what is that?” You question spotting the gift bag, “Oh just a reward for winning the game.” Sae shrugged, making you raise an eyebrow. “How’d you know I was going to win? What if I lost?”

“I wouldn’t still give you something,” he replied, making you smile softly.

“So do you think I played well? Any criticism from a pro I can get?” You grin energetically moving around your boyfriend as he sighed. “How do you still have so much energy?”

“I feel refreshed after seeing you!”

Sae shook his head and took your hand in his as the two of you began to walk to the parking lot.

“What are you feeling like for dinner?” He questioned pulling out his phone to order anything and everything you could wish for.

“No Seishiro, you should review these videos.” You sigh, taking his phone out of his hand. Ignoring the whine you got from him.

“Oh come on, just one more game.” Nagi reached for his phone slinging his larger body over yours making you groan. Nagi effectively got his phone back but now his whole body laid on you.

“Sei can you at least move your arm so I can see the tv?” You sigh, used to your boyfriend’s body laying on yours. The white-haired male did as told and lazilly moved his arm as you watched the review match.

Nagi’s eyes drifted from his game to the tv, then went down to your focused face.

Normally when he needed to train you were there to either cheer him on or help him stay focused.

If it wasn’t for you, he probably would have never agreed to play soccer with Reo.

Considering your love for the sport was the main way he even had knowledge of the sport.

Nagi had set his phone aside and got comfortable on you, using your breasts as pillows as he watched the review match with you. His mind fighting off sleep as your hands combed through his messy hair.

©hey-itsdollie please don't copy, change, or steal my work. Thank you!

[original-bookshelf]

Awkward Vampire Hunter NB4A

Wrote and voiced my own script and I had a lot of fun with it! Sound effects have not been added yet, but what I've got I'm pretty proud of!

Oh, shoot.

…

Sorry, I uh, I’m usually a lot more coordinated than this and– Christ, are those real?

…

No– no, that was rude of me. You don’t have to– but really, those look legit. You get implants or something like that? 

…

Then I take it that you’re not wearing contacts either?

…

I’m so sorry about your drink– could I get you another or–

…

Okay, something a little more dangerous then?

…

I think I might have some blood pouches in my bag if you’ll just give me a minute…

[speaker is backed into a corner]

Really, we’re doing this now? Come on, vamp, I know you’re smarter than this. I’ve just got  some questions I want to ask and–

[listener covers speakers mouth]

[muffled]

Okay, okay, I’ll be quiet about it. Could you just get your hand off my mouth? If you don’t, I’m gonna lick it.

…

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

[speaker licks listener’s hand]

That was so, so gross. Note to self, a vamp’s skin tastes like any other person’s skin but with a more– floral? – yeah, floral overtone.

…

Say, do all vamps from the Brassbeaten Coven get tats like that or is it just a friends thing–

…

[winces]

Sensitive topic, alright then. 

…

Could you maybe not? I haven’t been licensed to test vampiric feedings with my own blood, and believe me, I’d totally offer up some of my own, but you’re going to have to settle on something from the bloodbank, okay?

[listener lunges and speaker dodges, there’s a bit of a scuffle and listener gets hit and doubles over]

…

[speaking to another partygoer]

Oh, they’re fine! Just got a bit tipsy. I’ll take care of them!

…

Yeah, yeah, I’m sure!

[under breath]

You know, for a first time, this could have gone so much worse.

…

What’s that?

…

Yeah, I was trained by the old witch just like every other hunter. Granted, mine was a little shorter, but what are they gonna do when you get a headstart by interviewing just about every gnome in the area and then move onto the shifters in the neighborhood?

…

Now, let’s get you outside, alright?

…

Kill you?

[laughs]

Nah, vamp. It’s like I said: I’m just gonna ask you some questions, get you a blood bag and send you on your way. I don’t kill your type unless you’ve done something to really warrant it.

Sit down, why don’t you?

[sighs]

A real live vampire, or do you prefer undead? Be honest.

…

Good to know, good to know.

…

I assume that you were turned rather recently due to the state your gums are in. 

…

Three months ago? 

…

That explains why no one’s surprised about the change in appearance. Summer sometimes does that to people, you know? My best friend went and cut their hair, got a new load of piercings, and a boyfriend to boot over one summer. People hardly recognized them, but no one made any comments ‘cause it’s the summer. It’s when you try to figure things out.

So who would you say your coven’s aligned themselves with? The Department or the Council?

…

Not talking. Right, I should have kept that in mind, freshly turned don’t have much involvement in coven politics. 

…

Um, here. You see these two symbols?

…

Which one would you say that you see most often associated with your coven?

…

Department, alright.

…

Take this and suck it down before you pass out, vamp.

…

Next question: Do you always operate by night or are you able to go out in the sunlight at all?

…

Look! It’s an old myth, and even though hunters have some experience with vamps, you’re all so secretive that no one knows what the truth is, and any they’ve actually talked with are dead a few days after.

…

Besides, the moon reflects sunlight and all so I don’t think it’s the sun itself that affects you–

You’re kidding. Sunglasses? Well, it’d make sense, given the way the melanin in your eyes is just entirely gone…

Oh, sorry, got distracted again.

…

Yeah, onto the next one. Was there much of a culture shock when you made the transition from human to monster?

…

You know what, forget that question. That– that’s too personal to be asking so early in the research process. I– I should be focusing on quantitative not qualitative data and you’re– it’s probably a touchy subject and–

…

I’m sorry. I– usually I can keep to the facts, but this– this is… Let’s just, focus on the next question. How often do you need to feed?

…

Three to four times a month, so about once a week and–

…

What–what happened to my friend?

…

Hey, I never said anything about anything happening to them. Have you got like telepathy or something?

…

Makes sense why you revealed yourself so quickly.

…

Could you maybe not go poking around in my head? I’m not exactly a big fan of strangers hearing my innermost thoughts.

…

Not the thoughts– just…just emotions?

…

Enough about my friend, they’ve got nothing to do with you and they’re not the reason why I’m doing this.

…

How many Brassbeaten vamps are there in this town?

…

If you don’t want to answer, then fine. I’ll be on my way and you can–

…

What do you think you’re doing now… good lord, you’re close. 

…

You don’t gotta trance me to get me to tell the truth, vamp. You hold my wrist and feel that pulse, and you’ll see I’m just as terrified of you as you are of me, but I want to give you a chance.

…

Look, this isn’t about getting close to vampire kind for a favor or building some network with monsters. I–I just want to understand what makes you all tick so that we can avoid killing the good ones. 

…

That’s not the point, vamp. 

…

The point is that I don’t think you’re all bad, and that scares hunters. Because if there’s the chance that they’ve killed a properly moral creature in their time, it makes it murder. And if it’s a murder they’ve committed, then they can’t quite separate themselves from monsters can they? And then that means they’ve got an awful lot of apologizing to do.

…

I’m writing a book on monsters and this book– this research, it’ll change everything. You can help with that, but uh, you don’t have to. In fact, I’ll get rid of any notes from this interview if you’d like that. 

…

I can– I can keep them?

…

Oh, on one condition, that makes sense. Two– two conditions, yeah.

…

That one’s easy enough. Most of the data should be kept anonymous as is.

…

My friend– why would you care so much about my– 

…

[sighs]

Fine. I agree to your terms, but I’m going to need some time before I can tell you anything about that, and we’ll need to conduct a second interview, alright?

…

Great.

…

The blood bags? You can keep them.

…

I’ll see you around, vamp.

[hoedamn-eron]

shut up, kid

You awake to your first Mother’s Day with baby Bateman.

Warnings: Nathan is honestly the only warning you need. I suppose some hints of breastfeeding too (a fed baby is a happy baby, whether bottle or breast). Actually proofread for once, but probably still mistakes that I missed. Word count: 750 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

This was written VERY last minute (by last minute, I mean at 9:30pm on Mother's Day in the UK 😂). Anyway, happy Mother’s Day to all the parents out there! 😊 I’ve recently been very broody and very Nathan oriented, so I created this mostly self-indulgent fic (loosely based on this post from a few weeks ago).

I struggle to write Nathan, I feel like I can't get his personalty, or his demeanour right, so please let me know if I can improve anywhere! I want to write more Nathan!

It was the sound of a loud, high-pitched, excited squeal, that woke you up.

“Hey,” came the voice of your boyfriend, sounding distant and muffled as the sweet caress of sleep called back to you. “I know we came to wake up your mom, but that’s not the way to do it. You want to deal with the dragon before she’s had her morning coffee? No? I fuckin’ thought not. Shut up, kid.”

“You shouldn’t swear at your son,” you muttered into your pillow, knowing now that sleep was just a distant memory.

“Ah, shit.”

You grin into the pillow before you look up, your eyes blurrily settling on your boyfriend, who had a mug of coffee in his left hand (in your favourite mug – one you got from a Blue Book convention back when you were in college, long before you met Nathan...Nathan hated it), and his other hand was occupied supporting your seven-month-old son, Silas, who was happily sitting on Nathan’s hip, still in his footsie pyjamas, chewing on his pointer finger. It was sickening how you carried the kid for nine months, and going through a 36-hour labour, sacrificing your body and your boobs (your nipples will never be the same again), for him to look exactly like Nathan.

You still love the bones off him anyway.

“Kid doesn’t know what I’m saying, it’s fine,” Nathan continues, coming over to you and holding out the mug. You take it, smiling up at Nathan as he leans down to you and presses a kiss against your lips, murmuring a ‘good morning’ to you before he straightens up.

He’s so hot. Even now, he’s just wearing some old sweatpants and a t-shirt (it even has a stain of old baby throw up, which you just couldn’t get out), but it’s the way he’s holding your son...it does things to you.

“Good morning,” you greeted back, taking a sip of your coffee. You nod at Silas as he continued to chew on his finger. “Lost another pacifier?”

“I don’t know what he does with them,” Nathan said, shaking his head, gesturing with now free his hand around the room. “Spend all my fuckin’ spare time trying to find that blue one that he refuses to nap without.”

“Language,” you tell him, take a sip of your coffee.

“Sorry,” he says, almost on autopilot. “I’ll request more for the chopper next week. Think 50 will be enough? Obviously fuckin’ not, he’ll lose them all within a week.”

You laugh as you shake your head at him before looking at Silas. “Is your dada silly?” you ask him in your most annoying baby voice.

The kid loves it. He smiles widely at you and kicks his legs in excitement.

“Anyway,” Nathan says, adjusting Silas in his grip as he looked back at you, evidently choosing to ignore your comment to your son. “Happy Mother’s Day, or whatever. I made you breakfast, your favourite. The kid had some, he loved it, so now we’ll probably have to make it for him every day. I’ll run you a bath and by the time you’re finished it should be ready. While you’re being a lazy ass in the tub and skirting your duties as a mother - “

You go to swat Nathan on the thigh, but he dodges you swiftly and carries on like he was never interrupted.

“Me and this one,” he nods to Silas. “Will work on some tummy time, see if we can start crawling today.”

“Not all kids start crawling at seven months.”

“Not all kids are mine.”

“Debatable, regarding all the sex you were having before we met.”

“You’re reaping all the benefits from ‘all that sex’.”

“You pig.”

“You love me.”

You do. God, you do. So much. But you’re not going to tell him that.

You take a gulp of your coffee, hiding your smile.

“Get your pretty ass out of bed,” Nathan said, already turning away from you, grabbing Silas around the tummy and tossing him lightly in the air and catching him, causing Silas to laugh that cute baby giggle he has that melts your heart. “Come and celebrate your first Mother’s Day.”

He leaves the room, and you laugh to yourself as you distinctly hear the sound of Nathan giving Silas a raspberry on his belly as he walks down the corridor, the squealing sound of laughter from your son following right after.

It sends a warm feeling of joy and happiness through you.

[thetriggeredhappy]

Hello! I really liked the recent chapter you posted. I'm excited to see more :]

Do you mind elaborating on Spy's jewishness? It's a very fun headcanon and I'd like to learn what you think about it ^_^

sure! first of all 🍉🍉🍉 to be clear

sniper and spy are the only two who i’ve explicitly stated as jewish within the text, i think, and likely the only two for whom it’s going to come up super frequently, but i also do think that tony’s wife theresa is jewish, as is collin’s wife lily, and i don’t think any singular one of them is the classic Monolith To Represent An Entire Culture Singularly.

i imagine spy was somewhat heavier on tradition for himself, more orthodox, follows kosher, that sort of thing, and that if his family were still physically present enough to be part of his life they would be absolutely flabbergasted that he married an irish catholic woman and even more flabbergasted at how chill she is about it. i imagine spy is a pretty private guy but went out of his way to stay in contact with the judeo-french community in boston. this would’ve been around, like, ~1940 or so? the O’Connell family i always believed to be closer to South End, which was historically a cultural hub in the city. him being part of espionage efforts as a teen throughout the 20s means that he had a pretty unusual immigrant experience for that reason, but i thought it was more interesting to sort of keep spy more grounded in reality compared to the team fortressing of the rest of the peripheral landscape. some of the older boys who remember when spy was around remember how hard spy and ma worked to celebrate the holidays for both catholic traditions and french jewish traditions, and archie for example has tried to pass that on to his own kids as well.

sniper meanwhile i have grounded as kind of the ‘my family is jewish but um y’know not in the way that people hate’ brand ‘palatable immigrant or different culture trying not to take up space in a place that is not necessarily friendly to outsiders’ story. his mum and dad were the only jewish people in their relatively small community by the time sniper was a young boy and they really did try to keep up traditions, but it’s hard when you have no outside support to help reinforce that stuff. sniper has a (relatable) internal sense of being both an outsider to the predominant culture while also not feeling confident enough in it being ‘his culture’ to make any claims for himself. i imagine that if he could meet some of spy’s old buddies in boston and connect a little more with the diaspora he would be able to start feeling more of that pride and connection, but as it is he’s caught between dodging antisemitism and denying a culture that does matter to him but in a way that’s difficult to verbalize and not often asked about.

i think spy and sniper might bicker about it at times in later chapters, next chapter in particular. scout’s ma is definitely going to make at least one more comment about scout getting married to a nice jewish boy though. that trope in media about east coasters is just too much of a staple to pass up.

[candiedspit]

when I was lucid

Tomas fucked like a girl. 

This was disappointing. I wanted him to wrap his muscles–pink, buoyant muscles–around me until I disappeared. I wanted to make use of my legs. But he mewled like a kitten and hardly touched me. 

Am I hurting you? He asked every few seconds. 

No, I said and said. 

A cigarette was still burning on the nightstand. The sunlight outside waned like a feeling. When he finished, he rolled off of me and I got up to get dressed. 

I’ve gotta go, I said, snagging my coat on. 

And left him with his vapors and dirty skin. 

There was a cab outside waiting for me. Life was like this, one magic act. I yawned and a man offered me champagne. Things appeared. I did my lipstick in the backseat, caught the driver looking at me in the rearview mirror. 

What? I asked, popping my lips. 

He didn’t say anything. I rolled my eyes. He left me at my family’s restaurant where I met the rest of the boogaloos. I entered through the back door, smelling of sex and strawberry perfume. I liked making scenes. Another reason Tomas disappointed me–no bruises to coat with foundation, no angered calls from my brothers. I’m the youngest in our family; the only girl, too. This allows me many advantages. Everyone treats me as though I’m made of glass. 

Where you been, dope? Nick asked. 

I had four older brothers and Nick was the closest to me in age. He had spent his recent twenty fifth birthday in the white gallows of Hawaii, dodging waterfalls. I was twenty years old. It was only the brothers there. Dad was working. I never knew what that meant, though there were hints. All that really mattered was his mood when he came home. Sometimes, he went to his office and drank. Nothing could stir him, his misery like a furnace heating the entire house. Other times, he came home bearing gifts, stories and quick cracks at everyone. He was a laser beam. I take after him in some respects. For example, my beautiful, long nose. And my green, slanted eyes. I’m also a natural depressive. Prone to fits, slamming doors, refusing to eat for days. Once, I told a shrink I feel like as empty as a clock. He told me everybody feels like that. 

Not like me, I told him. Not like me. 

I was with Tomas, I told Nick as I took a seat at the table. 

It was quiet. Robin, Frank and my oldest brother Jonathan fiddled with their fingers, sniffling. I made a face. 

What is this? I asked. A fucking funeral parlor? What’s going on?

Dad lost a bet, Jonathan said. A big one.

Shit, I said. What do we do?

Not you. Nick said. But we’ve got till this evening to get it sorted. 

I was never allowed out on any ventures. This upset me. I could handle anything the boys could. A little blood. A little guts. It didn’t bother me much. I had a strong stomach. 

There’s a cab coming for you, Robin said. Just stay at the house. 

Can’t we play a game first? I asked. I loved beating them at cards, the dimwits. 

No time, Jonathan said. 

I got up and grabbed a soda from the fridge before heading towards the door. 

Be safe, I said. 

Always. 

I never knew what time it was. It was probably around one in the morning when the boys came back with dad. I’d spent the afternoon watching TV with mom while she did my nails. Dad was furious, cursing anyone that came to mind; Mickey Mouse, God, Judy Dame. As Nick slinked upstairs, I caught his arm. His shirt was rimmed with what I knew was blood. 

Are you okay? I asked. 

He nodded. I kissed his cheek and let him go. 

I wasn’t in school. I filled my time with house parties, dungeons, anything that sparkled. That weekend, I was in the basement with Katie-Marie, a girl I’ve known since we were four. I didn’t have many friends. But I had good ones, the ones I had. Katie-Marie was wonderful to be around. I could tell her anything. Most of the time, I complained about Tomas. 

Let go of him, Katie-Marie said. He’s nothing but a pain. Not worth the time. 

I’m compelled, I said. There’s something about him I can’t get enough of. 

Katie-Marie did another line, I followed suit and laid back down on the couch, drank some soda. I often imagined burning my nose off; sulfur and love confessions. I listened to Katie-Marie sing along to some girl pop band until I felt as though someone had thrown me into the electric chair except I was innocent. All of my nerves were on high alert. I fluttered my eyes, seeing the faint image of a lamb on the ceiling. There was a cosmic rhinestone in the very center of my forehead. I could feel every one of my thoughts like arrows shot from the other side. I laughed and laughed, couldn’t tell when I wasn’t laughing. Katie-Marie kissed my cheek. I licked her palm. I began speaking. 

Are we not the damndest? Are we not the ones? I could drink my youth from a shot glass. It’s going to rain. I’m the first horse who realized he can run. And I’m running and I’m never stopping. I’m a cunt. I’m Daddy. He thinks he’s so big, I’m bigger. 

I looked over at Katie-Marie. 

He thinks he’s big but I’m bigger, I said over and over. 

I have this dream, I found myself telling Tomas. That dud, dull sparkler; magic amulet with no power within it. I didn’t like him. How many times could I rap at his door? A shift, I expected him to be someone else every time. The person I loved. And each time, it was only him in his boy shorts, grease king, cigarette burns in the blankets, ashtrays on the carpet, the scent of a life lived far too long. It had been four days since we’d seen each other; I’d spent the time crying, masturbating and crying, punching his number into the phone and then chickening out. He looked at me, rubbed my cheek with his bandaged thumb. 

What do you dream? He asked. 

I’m Christ at the table. And the skies are made of lace, there are gingerbread cookies, rugs made of skin, a thousand diamonds, an itch in my teeth. A cock between my hands. Psalms rising and falling beneath my eyelids. I am the son of God. I am going to be betrayed by the phony who loves me as the wind loves to tickle the trees. I am going to die for you. 

I pointed towards the ceiling. 

But for the moment, I am full of wine, singing drunk. And the colors explode. Someone is speaking. A beautiful woman with her breasts exposed. And I hear the sound of what comes next. I hear the crackle of electricity; lightning bolts, rashes of rain pissing from above. I hear a hundred languages, babbling over one another like threads in a wicker basket, streams of fish. I hear a thumping, a grinding, ecstatic horsepower. I see the black coughs of genocide. I see Americans on the street, hiding from a wall of ash. I see America. 

You’re insane, he said as though astonished. Absolutely insane. 

It was a Tuesday evening. I was at the restaurant with Nick, playing cards. The other boys were upstairs, running dishes, cleaning tables. Outside, I could hear the fantastic drip of rain. I beat Nick at cards for the third time in a row. 

You’re letting me win, I complained. 

He laughed. 

I’m really that bad, he said. That’s the truth. 

It got quiet as I got up to get another soda, one for me and one for him. I cracked open the can and sat back down. Nick was looking at me. 

Julia, he said. 

I looked at him. He never called me by my name. 

 Why don’t you get away from here? You could. Dad would pay for school, somewhere upstate. You could leave all this shit behind. It’s not good for you to be in the periphery of what we do. Why don’t you? 

I looked at his hands, a cross tattooed on his wrist. I loved him like a mother does, like a knife.

Why don't you go fuck yourself? I asked. And said nothing else.

I set up another card game. And let him win.

[thewingedbaron]

The Queen's Task

SPOILERS FOR END OF ACT 3

Just hit Act 4 again on my Wrath of the Righteous playthrough with my Atza Knight-Commander Vysk. I remember this moment very clearly in my first playthrough (angel commander), and I felt like Vysk needed to have a little more bite in her responses to the Queen.

Literally paused the game during the conversation to write this. I am sitting in the Abyss, talking to the Hand of the Inheritor as we speak. Enjoy Vysk blowing off a little steam on her boss. (I was also let go at my job recently, so this might be a little extra therapy for me.)

Story below the cut, and also on Ao3 :)

(It's about 1,300 words, I recommend Ao3 if you don't want to scroll forever.)

“We should - no, must - track the demon’s path and settle this issue once and for all. And that means venturing into the Abyss. No one but you, Vysk, with your unique power, can handle this task. That is why I shall take over the command of the crusader armies, and you will journey forth on this great mission.”

Vysk’s head spun. Her knees wobbled and legs lost feeling as if they would drop out from under her. The wound in her chest, freshly healed over, felt as if it might split and weep blood anew, leaving her on the dirty stones of the Abyss’s temple far below the city she gave so much to save.

Her protests slipped from her mind like rain down a gutter. The slight… satisfaction in the Queen’s voice cut her like a whip. Around her, the Commander’s retinue shared looks of shock and anger. They had been wading through the blood of demons for hours. Dodged in and out of the Abyss in search of keys to access the Baylor’s Sanctum. They had slain one of the Abyss’ great generals in his own stronghold, and barely lived to tell the tale. Now, their leader had been removed from her station, stripped of her title, and was to be sent into the Abyss? Only Regill managed to maintain his stoic exterior.

Vysk felt as if the air had been stolen from her lungs. Her usual arsenal of witty comments and tricks had fled her, leaving only a gaping, dark hole in their place.

“My- my Lady?” She stammered. In her mind the Sable Company Marine of her old life and the budding Atza battled for control of her tongue. ‘You can’t be serious.” Queen Galfrey nodded solumnly. “The crystals must have come from the other side, you saw them here, yourself. If I am to expect anyone to survive the journey ahead, I must rely on you, Vysk. Your abilities have proved greater than any challenge.”

“A-and what, you will lead my armies? You’ll march my soldiers into the teeth of the Worldwound and watch as they die by the thousands?” Alyss demanded. The Marine in her recoiled, but the Atza didn’t care.

“I would remind you who you are addressing.” The Queen replied, her voice suddenly cool. “Do not think this was a decision made lightly. I have led this crusade for over a century, I will not gamble with the lives you so desperately covet.”

“Hog shit!” Vysk cried, a favorite insult of her halfling crusaders. “You’ve run this war for a hundred years and yet I’ve gained more ground in two! Your people are dying, Your Grace. Your tactics are outdated, your tricks long since solved. I’ve seen how your generals lead, my Lady. Forgive me if I find them wanting.”

The Queen’s eyes burned now, all semblance of her royal aura replace with a deep rage. “You go to far.” She spat.

“You do not go far enough.” Alyss bit back. “I-“

Her protest turned to a strangled sob as an armored hand landed gently on her shoulder. She looked back into Seelah’s sympathetic gaze. Now is not the time, she seemed to say with a small shake of her head.

“What if I refuse?” Vysk asked.

“The crystals are too great a threat.” The Hand of the Inheritor cut in, though his voice sounded as troubled as an angel could manage. “I may disagree with my syster-in-arms at times, but she is indisputably right; this evil must be killed at the root. We may never get another chance at reaching their source.”

“Correct.” The Queen nodded, regaining some of her composure. “I can handle the crusades, but your mission in the Abyss is critical.”

“Fine.” Vysk forced the word from where it had become lodged in her throat. “But this conversation is not over. I will not forget this. “

“Valor! Bravery! Loyal comrades! We have all this in abundance. With it, the Abyss holds no fear for us.” The Hand cut off the Queen’s reply, forcing her to settle for a deeply furrowed brow.

“Wish me luck as well, then.” She said, her voice strangled. “Until next we meet.”

She turned to stride from the chamber, head held high, then paused as if something had just occurred to her.

“This mission will be dangerous. Perhaps the most dangerous assignment I have ever given in my long years as Monarch. I trust that you have chosen your companions well, Knight-Commander, but should any of them be unfit for such a mission, I would see that they are well appointed to continue to aid our cause.” Vysk ground her teeth, biting back against the venom that welled in her throat as the Marine enacted some control over her fey impulses. Instead, she turned to her friends.

“The Queen speaks the truth.” She said. “I would not begrudge any of your the chance to remain here. If there is anyone who would like to aid the Queen, go with my blessing.” For a long moment, nothing moved. Vysk’s breathing sounded too loud to her own ears as she waited for one to step forward. Then two. Then for them all to trickle past her until only she and the angel remained.

Daeran stepped forward, brushing a bit of dried blood from his clothes with a frown of distaste. He stepped right up to her, close enough that she could smell his perfume, even under the demon blood that soaked his fine silks. He smiled and began to step past her before bursting out into a belly aching laugh.

“Sometimes you are precious dear.” He said, patting Vysk on the cheek as if she were some child asking for candy at the fare. To his royal cousin he said. “Your Majesty, you always were saying that I should get out and see the world beyond my parties. I do find myself wondering what wine tastes like in the Abyss.”

With a self satisfied smile, he turned and strolled toward the portal, whistling to himself as if stepping into the park.

“I’m with you, sister. No matter where you lead.” Seelah said, slamming an armored hand down on Vysk’s shoulder.

“The Abyss will have many fascinating specimen for observation. I had debated on taking a trip there myself to ask the demons some questions.” Nenio said. Then she too joined Daeran by the portal. Regill joined them without a word.

Sosiel stared longingly at the door from which they had come, but there was nothing but steely determination in his eyes when they met Vysk’s. “I will not abandon you, my friend. This may be my only chance to find Trevor as well…”

“Cheer up, Sosiel.” Lann grinned. “At least we’ll all die together.”

“Think of the stories they will tell of us!” Ulbrig roared.

Greybor shrugged, following the giant toward the portal.

Finally, Vysk’s eyes met Arueshalae’s.

“I can’t ask you to go back.” She whispered. To her surprise the succubus smiled.

“Nor would you, but I can’t let you go alone.” She said. “My experience will give us a chance at seeing the sun again.”

Vysk tried for a smile that ended somewhere near a grimace before turning back to the Queen. “I believe I am ready.”

Galfrey nodded. “I will block this passage as soon as you are gone. Vysk…” Something close to regret crossed the ancient woman’s face. Then, it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “May Iomaede go with you.”

Vysk reclined her head toward the ceiling, not trusting her words as she clasped the holy butterfly of Desna around her neck and imagined the blue skies and green forests high above. Then, she turned and strode toward the great portal of writhing purple energy. Jester, her hippogriff fell into steady step beside her.

“Do you think the Abyss has cookies?”Aivu asked, skipping ahead. “I don’t think they will, but a dragon can dream right.”

“Yes, Aivu. A dragon can.” Vysk smiled. She turned back for one last look at the blood soaked hall. “I hope we can all dream like that again.”

[thetantiger]

Dodging and Frostweaving

Word count: 1,192

Characters: Cryagosa (she/her), Dewdrop (she/they)

Somebody please help them, they're so awkward.

Cryagosa looked at her surroundings. What was once a barren ice cave of freezing solitude was now a proper dragon’s den, thanks to the inspiration struck by that tauren and goblin she’d encountered in Orgrimmar. She put her claws on her hips and marveled at the bright Lichfire braziers, the mound of lavish cushions and beddings dyed navy and gold at the back of the cavern, the beautiful frostweave curtains flowing in the slight breeze from Icecrown outside and the impressive stash of gems, trinkets and precious jewels she was able to scavenge from the remains of her old den. It had only took a little help from a geomancer; Obsydia was an incredibly easy dragon to persuade, for the price of a few choice crystals from Crya’s old stash.

The Frostwyrm grinned at the brilliantly decorated den before her. Oh, yeah. Prime place for a good fight. Dewdrop will love this.

She heard a rustle at the front of the cave and broke into a grin. She looked over her shoulder, seeing the faerie dracthyr she’d been waiting for. “Ah! Dewdrop. There you are. Do you like what I’ve done with the place?”

Dewdrop, in their usual routine, started out aggressive. It was a comfort to Crya, honestly. “You’re not outside raising Frostwyrms. What are you planning, Cryagosa?”

“You see, Dew,” Crya began, turning around and looking at them, her arms folded neatly behind her back underneath her wings. “I have since given up the attempt to raise Frostwyrms.”

She conveniently left out that this was solely for moral reasons; with the recent campaign to take care of some of the Residuum, Crya and the friend group of Death Knights she was connected to began realizing their distaste for the excessive authoritarianism of the Ebon Blade, and had begun focusing on their living selves. Cryagosa, as a soul that had died about ten thousand years ago when Neltharion made an example of the Blue Dragonflight during the War of the Ancients, was quite disconnected from her old self and honestly didn’t remember much of it other than how the impact of the Dragon Soul’s energy felt in her chest. What she did know, however, is that she was going to be left behind if she could not get a grasp on herself morally, just as the vrykul Knight Sjorkan almost was when he chose the Blade over them--and then quickly regretted it and chose to disobey orders to save their asses instead. However, she needed her and Dewdrop to continue this performative rivalry, this almost silly and theatrical mock-hatred of one another. Their combat was riveting; Dewdrop was an impressive opponent for such a small dragonkin. It fueled her. It ignited her.

“Instead, I have..” Crya broke into a grin, rubbing her hands together as she made her grand announcement. “..kicked over a public trash can, intentionally! And I didn’t clean it up!”

…

…It was silent for a moment.

Dewdrop looked around with large, bug-like eyes. “What? What is all this?”

“Oh, this?” Crya asked, grabbing the end of a curtain and rubbing the fabric between her claws curiously. “I was told I should decorate. Do you like it? Imagine all the things we can destroy in here fighting each other.”

Dewdrop blinked at her, the fuzzy antennae of their eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “I don’t think I understand. You’re giving up raising Frostwyrms?”

Cryagosa sort of shrugged nonchalantly, leaning her head back and forth. “I.. er.. became bored with it.”

“And kicking over public trash cans is less boring?”

“It makes me feel less bad.”

Dewdrop gasped at her, starting to form a slight smile. “Crya! You’re forming a moral compass.”

Cryagosa scowled and immediately turned away from them, stomping further into the cave with a dismissive wave at the dracthyr. “Nonsense,” she hissed, aware of the sound of Dewdrop’s talons on the cold floor of the cave as they followed her. “I am just-.. trying to find less inconvenient ways of being evil.”

“Sure, that’s what it is,” Dewdrop replied sarcastically, the amusement audible in their voice. “Alright, fine, I’ll bite.”

“Good!” Crya exclaimed. “You use only your claws too often.”

Dew sighed. “Well what in here were you planning to destroy? This all looks pretty expensive.”

“Well I’m delighted you asked!” Cryagosa whipped back around, immediately reaching for Dewdrop’s shoulders and spinning them towards the wall. Dew made a small noise of alarm--not dissimilar to a peep--and sort of threw them into the curtain. She made sure to be a little gentle at least for this, as Dewdrop hadn’t struck her yet--she always let Dewdrop strike first, it was more fun that way--and quickly realized the dracthyr’s back might hit the cave wall a little too hard for her liking so she grabbed them again to ensure that didn’t happen.

Dewdrop’s horns were slightly eclipsed by the frostweave of the long curtain but that was about it. The cloth barely dipped over their forehead, and their hands sort of planted against the wall, deep purple eyes wide and staring at her.

“Well, if I threw you with a little bit more effort, you could get completely tangled up in this thing,” Crya said, her talons still on Dewdrop’s shoulders. “You would tear at it, and then maybe throw me into that pile of gold over there, and-”

…

Something was wrong.

Crya examined them carefully. As a being afflicted with the same Shadowfrost element that Frost and James were, big sources of heat were easily detectable for her if close enough. And by the Aspects, they were close enough. Crya only just now realized how this might look, with Dewdrop in her den and the whole place decorated so extravagantly and her claws on their shoulders against the wall and suddenly she felt the ice within her spike. She looked at Dewdrop, vibrant blood rushing to their face and reddening the light blue hue of their base scales. Dewdrop simply stared back at her and didn’t say anything, their bug-like eyes endless pits of violet. They didn’t exactly look bad, pressed against the frostweave cloth, their mouth slightly agape in startlement and their set of razor teeth barely visible. She could’ve sworn she saw Dewdrop move, saw their head tilt, saw them lean in, saw their eyes flutter. She could’ve sworn she leaned in, too.

“I HAVE TO GO,” Cryagosa said much louder than she intended as she pulled away at the last possible second. She’d never felt such intense cold emitting from the icy core in her chest before. This was something different and she most certainly was not having it. Dewdrop paused, eyes widening again, and didn’t respond. “I- I have to run some errands.” She very consciously removed her claws from the dracthyr’s shoulders and started literally sprinting for the exit.

“Wait! Crya, what are you-”

“Bye!” She didn’t even wait for Dewdrop to finish a sentence. She took off with a strong beat of her wings, and soared towards the Borean Tundra, grasping at her own muzzle with sheer embarrassment and hoping maybe one of her friends could explain this away for her.

[raccoonfallsharder]

oh my god! so i kept on telling myself that i’ll read window across the galaxy whenever i find time (haven’t really done that yet T_T it feels like i have all the time in the world and yet not enough) and i come to do my daily check of raccoonfallsharder to find out IT’S FINISHING SOON?! you work at the SPEED OF LIGHT (which is a compliment ❤️‍🩹 i am a snail and i wish i wasn’t.) but hopefully i can start binge reading WATG soon, the excerpts i’ve seen look amazing (which isn’t shocking coming from you. everything you write is a masterpiece!)

all of this to be said, i hope you’re doing okay. i know you write the Rocket Reminders for others but i hope you apply them to yourself as well. you deserve amazing things And More!

okay first of all you do a DAILY CHECK of my blog?? ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡ i mean that has to be an exaggeration but it’s still the sweetest fucken thing ive ever heard?? this seriously has made my whole shitty week better (hello tuesday morning, ive peaked). this whole ask is just so sweet and caring and kind. i might be tearing up in my office. thank you. i am carrying your words with me everywhere i go today, like armor ♡

secondly window will be here waiting for you whenever you’re ready babydoll. it’s not going anywhere (also you don’t gotta binge it! it’s perfectly fine to take bitesized chomps)

thirdly snails are incredibly important. they’re recyclers and pollinators and they are very cute when drinking water. there is nothing wrong with taking time, and fanfic writing should be enjoyable — not something to punish or pressure yourself about. 6 out of 10 experts agree that in all likelihood, trying to rush something like this is just a result of capitalism convincing you of the lie that “productivity” (whatever that is) is the most important thing. the other 4/10 say that you would have more time to create if it weren’t for capitalism in the first place, so it’s still not your fault. anyway the point is please keep being a lovely perfect snail going at your own lovely perfect pace and don’t be too hard on yourself

finally here’s an extra window excerpt (the very beginning) just for you ♡♡♡ may your day be full of soft and happy moments, you gorgeous winter sunrise, and may you feel loved & cared for every second

☆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The Eclector is dark and, despite the raucous laughter and fighting of the crew, every footfall on the gridded catwalks seems to echo. It smells like rust and oil and old metal, and sometimes sweat, and there’s generally very little that is pleasant about it.

But Kraglin Obfonteri had sent word that the Yondu clan had recently overtaken a Xandaran luxury liner. Among its treasures, there had been a pretty vast art collection, and Jolie is a reliable assessor and - for some of the more common mediums, as well as a few blindingly unique ones - a restorer. It’s not the first time she’s contracted her services out to a Ravager crew. Hell, it’s not even the first time she’s worked with the Yondu Clan. She crosses paths with them at least once every fifteen cycles or so.

So here she is, following some hulking brute named Taserface and dodging when pirates on the catwalk above decide to spit over the side.

What a way to spend my morning, she thinks. There better be something worthwhile in this pile of junk.

They finally leave the belly of the ship and Taserface leads her through a network of cargo holds and corridors, trying to make very awkward conversation and occasionally leering at her. Jolie is a consummate professional, though, and she’s dealt with a lot of creeps. She keeps a polite smile on her lips and a dead look in her eyes. She’d been hoping today’s escort would be the aforementioned Kraglin, or maybe fellow-Terran Peter Quill. Pete’s been family since Jolie met him - almost seven years ago - even if they don’t usually see each other more than once every few cycles at most. He’s a handful of years older than her, but his relative optimism still makes her feel like he’s a sweet, annoying little brother. Frankly, it pulls some heartstrings, because Jolie has baggage where younger siblings are concerned.

Kraglin, on the other hand, is a remarkably endearing moron, and Jolie kind of adores him, the same way she adores particularly stupid cats.

Unfortunately, Jolie gathers that Pete has apparently disappeared in his M-Ship without a word - much to the irritation of the rest of the Yondu clan - and Obfonteri is offsite on orders from the captain, engaging in some kind of criminal activity or another. So here she is, stuck with a guy who could’ve picked any name in the galaxy and settled on Taserface.

Each chamber the pirate guides her through is packed with stolen goods, and she keeps her eyes open in case there’s some incredible artistic masterpiece that has somehow escaped the haul he’s currently taking her to examine. No luck so far, and Taserface is pulling ahead of her, trying to impress her by droning on about some recent brawl he’s been in. She zones out of the conversation, only smiling placidly and nodding vacantly when he glances back at her.

They pass another corridor, this one even more abandoned, and enter yet another chamber. More goods are stacked all around, a disorganized horde of stolen treasures: casks of silverwine from Vanaheim, crates of shimmering pearls from Morag, pleasure-bots from Contraxia. At the far end, she sees what looks like the corner of a cage.

Her eyes narrow, and her head tilts.

That’s unusual.

Normally, bounties are housed in the caged cells lining the main corridors just off the belly of the ship - not hidden, and not mixed in with the loot. As they draw closer, Jolie can just make out a shadow shifting inside - something the size of a kid.

Her blood runs cold.

She’d heard Yondu and his crew had already been exiled from the loose coalition of Ravager clans due to trafficking children, but she’d thought they’d stopped doing that years ago, when Pete had come on board. Is that why this cage is hidden way out here?

They draw closer, and she catches a glimpse of fur moving behind the rusted bars. Out here in space, that doesn’t mean anything in particular: it could still be a child. Her stomach becomes a stone in her gut, and she knows she's not leaving this stupid fucking ship without knowing what's going on, and making sure everything is okay. She’s got enough units on her that she can probably afford one or two kids, maybe a few if she needs to - a bribe more than a purchase, she thinks, and a mean fucking talking-to for Yondu Udonta. But if he's making some kind of a habit out of this, she’s going to need a lot more resources than she currently has available to her.

And maybe he’s not. She's trying very hard not to jump to conclusions, because to be honest - despite his reputation - Yondu really doesn’t seem like the type to continue engaging in this shit. And she kind of likes him, like the grumpy old uncle she's never had.

Taserface keeps heading straight across the chamber to the other door, boasting and blathering, but Jolie’s drawn to the cage. Smoothly - never breaking stride - she veers to the left, and her tour guide doesn't even notice.

The metal box is about three feet tall, sitting on top of a knee-high crate scrawled with the words “sovereign porn” in Kree - lovely, Jolie thinks drily - and there’s definitely a lifeform inside. She leans in just a bit, and catches a flash of bright eyes and teeth and - she thinks that’s a ringed tail, and a mask.

That can’t be right.

Her eyes scan him again, and yeah: the caged creature looks almost like a raccoon from back home, but he’s standing upright on his hindlegs and…yep, he is most certainly wearing pants.

The lifeform rears back: teeth bared in a vicious, silent snarl, ears flat against his skull. In this position, she can see some kind of metal has been embedded in his chest. The fur around it - and in a few other places - has long since stopped growing due to scarring, and the flesh around the metal itself looks painfully inflamed. Her heart slams into her sternum and her stomach drops.

“Oh, love,” she breathes out, unthinking. “What did they do to you?”

The raccoon tilts his head to one side, eyes bright with biting intelligence, and she could swear he’s practically sneering. He opens his mouth and for all the world, she almost thinks he’s going to answer her.

Taserface interrupts any miraculous revelations with his too-loud, too-boastful voice, suddenly behind her, leaning too close. “T’was the High Evolutionary Hisself what cut the critter up and stitched it back together. Replaced some of its bones with new ones and made it walk like it’s tryin’ to be a man.”

She straightens and stares up at him, and the asshole chuckles, like it’s funny.

Jolie makes a noise in her throat before she can stop it. “Nope. Don’t like that.”

She turns back, still eyeballing the creature on the other side of the rusty bars. It’s shadowy in there, but she’d guess he’s maybe three-feet tall with change. And if he is a raccoon - and he sure does look like one - he’s probably already plotting his escape.

She gnaws on her lower lip. “And where are you all taking him now?”

Taserface looks at her like she’s an idiot. Maybe she is.

“Back t’ HalfWorld an’ the High Evolutionary, a’course.”

Her head snaps around to face him so quickly that something in her neck audibly cracks, sending a hot flare of pain up the back of her skull. She ignores it. “So they can torture him some more?”

Taserface shrugs and glowers and spits dismissively. “It'll be two hunnert-thousand units.”

Jolie sucks in a breath through her teeth. That’s more than…well, that’s more than a few children.

She looks at the rusted bars, and back to her brute of a tour guide, and sighs heavily. Slowly, she turns back to the cage, swaying toward the bars so she can peer in at eye-level. She’s immediately face-to-face with the creature. His ears are still pressed flat against his head, fur bristling, and he’s gazing back, clearly suspicious and probably - justifiably - feeling more than a little bit mean. She’s suddenly certain that if she got close enough, he’d take out her eyes.

There’s no helping herself, is there? Goddamn, she’s an idiot. One corner of her mouth twists up in exhausted resignation and she sighs.

“Welp,” she says solemnly to the raccoon with a polite nod, “fuck me, my dude.”

Swiftly, she stands back up, turning to Taserface and flattening her palms together in front of her with a soft clap. Her fingers lace together and she presses her knuckles to her lips in half a prayer. She’s not going to think about the consequences too much. Not till later, anyway. She’s going to move through these next moments in a flurry, a manufactured whirlwind: partly so she doesn’t second-guess herself, and partly to keep Taserface from applying too much critical thinking to anything she’s about to say.

She imagines that second part should be easy.

“It looks like it’s Udonta’s lucky day, because I happen to have two-hundred-and-thirty thousand units on hand, and I’ve always wanted a raccoon.”

[cannabistravelguides]

Buy Weed Online In Warsaw, Poland

Cannabis Travel Guide

Warsaw might conjure up images of World War II ghettos and bombed out buildings, but the city has re-grown, and a few pot seeds apparently took root too.

While it doesn’t enjoy the same reputation as a party hotspot that its neighbour Prague, Czech Republic, does, and despite fairly strict drug laws, smoking abounds in this former Soviet Bloc city.

Anka, a local studying at a vocational school, finds plenty of time to squeeze concerts, pubs and discos that are liberally sprinkled around the city into her busy schedule.

“At weekends I try to attend anything up to three events,” she said. “I often smoke hash and marijuana — they’re as common as beer in the company I keep.”

While the Polish drug scene is alive and well, the Polish government has revamped its once liberal laws and is doing its best to pull the plug on even recreational use. The parliament recently passed laws banning possession of all soft drugs, even in small amounts obviously intended only for personal use.

The U.S. State Department reports that “penalties for possession, use, or dealing in illegal drugs are strict, and convicted offenders can expect jail sentences and heavy fines.”

Despite the restrictions, pot and hash are easy to find.

“On a walk through some Warsaw suburbs I saw what looked and smelt suspiciously like marijuana growing freely in the hedgerows,” said Richard, an American who lives in Warsaw.

The homegrown marijuana is of pretty high quality skunk and orange and runs about $8 to $10 per gram or $65 for 10 grams. Hash is harder to find, since most of it is imported instead of produced locally. Black Afghan hash is about $10 to $12 per gram, when you can find it.

In line with the home-grown pot itself, the easiest places to find it are where locals hang out.

“It is easiest to get everywhere,” said Niall, from Scotland. “School, clubs, friends, neighbourhoods.”

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If you’re having a hard time meeting locals, head for the University district or the Palace of Culture near the main train station. Both locations are filled with both dealers and tokers who might be willing to share a small hit with a visitor.

“On the East side of Palace of Culture there is a big tent where they serve cheap beer, play great music and best — you can smoke whatever you want,” said a visitor in Warsaw going by the nickname Hemmy. “When the cops come, just throw away your “cigarette” and say what? It must’ve been someone in the park! ”There is a great drumming scene too.”

Another location where pot and hash can be found among piles of junk, fake antiques and the occasional gun is the flea market at Stadion Dziesieciolecia, arguably the largest in Europe.

“There are more than 10,000 stands where you can buy almost anything. They even used to sell weapons!” said a tourist from Denmark. “People come from not only Poland, but from the whole eastern Europe – especially the old Soviet republics — to sell clothes, food, caviar, music, handyman tools and all kinds of electric equipment.”

Once you’ve loaded up on some ganga and developed a serious case of the munchies, hit up the little Vietnamese food stands huddled around Plac Konstitucji, which serve almost identical but edible generic Asian takeout.

When heading out after hours, take some pains to dodge the Red Light District and the main train station where pickpockets tend to congregate.

“We wandered by accident into an area of huts masquerading as shops between Zielna and Marshall Street,” said Drew from the United States. “All seemed to be involved in either the sex industry or armaments trade. I’ve come across the sex industry in many places, but nothing like this.”

Instead, head out for a night of clubbing or pub-crawling.

Cul de Sac (ul. Foksal 2) is lodged in an imposing building and bolstered by the comfortable and faintly decadent leather couches and mellow atmosphere inside. Ground Zero (ul. Wspolna 62) is a converted domed bomb shelter with surprisingly good Mexican food next door at the Warsaw Tortilla Factory.

“There are plenty of nightclubs in Warsaw,” said local Radzio. “You may not be let in if you are under 18 though, and if you are wearing sportswear.”

And by the end of a day of smoking, drinking and general partying, just be sure you know the way home.

“Remember to always carry the name of the street in which you are staying. It may be unpronounceable and you may need it for the taxi driver,” said one American visitor who got lost with her brother. “He got a little drunk and was in no fit state to tell the taxi driver his address. Big sis had to step in and get us back to some unpronounceable street with an amazing combination of “szcs’ in the name.”

[texelamusement]

Ultimate Cleaning Hacks for Keeping Your Outdoor Playground Equipment Sparkling

Let’s talk about playgrounds, my friends! Who doesn’t cherish the squeals of laughter and the sight of kids soaring on swings or conquering jungle gyms? But here's the kicker: those laughter-filled havens often need a good scrub. As a parent, I’ve felt the cringe when my toddler kisses the merry-go-round just as a sticky hand leaves its mark. Cleanliness may seem like a chore, but it should be a big slice of the pie for everyone who wants those playgrounds to be safe and inviting. Remember, those germs aren’t gonna clean themselves, and as much as I love a good mud pie, I could do without the bacteria buffet. So, let's roll up those sleeves and talk about why it's crucial to keep our kids' play areas spick and span, without losing sight of the fun! Texel is a trusted name in Soft Play Installation in Dubai, providing safe, vibrant, and innovative indoor play areas tailored for children of all ages. If you're setting up a new play zone or upgrading an existing facility, our expert team makes sure an ideal and efficient installation process abides by international standards.

We also specialize in Soft Play Area Maintenance Services across the Dubai, UAE, delivering routine inspections, repairs, and deep cleaning to ensure your play space remains hygienic, safe, and fully functional year-round.

Why Cleaning Playgrounds Must Be a Priority

Every time we take the kiddos to the playground, it feels like an exercise in organized chaos—like herding cats, really. But how often do we consider what's lurking on those swings and slides? Remember the last time someone slipped on a banana peel in a cartoon? Well, it's not as funny in real life, especially when it’s *germy* business at play. With kids, cleanliness is paramount. We all want to avoid those surprise visits to the pediatrician, right? You know the drill—coughing, sneezing, and that dreaded “where did this come from?” conversation. Let’s face it, kids are adorable; however, they can also be little germ factories. Here’s a fun fact: kids touch everything. Actually, they touch *everything*, from the ground to their noses, and then back to the swings. Can you hear the collective gasp from parents everywhere? A well-kept playground does wonders, not just for health but also for those photo ops—like that Insta-worthy shot when your toddler finally conquers the slide. We can’t let litter and grime ruin the moment! So, let’s break down a few key points about why being vigilant about playground cleanliness is essential:

Health: Reducing the spread of germs keeps our children healthier.

Safety: A clean area reduces the risk of injury from unnoticed debris.

Enjoyment: Kids enjoy themselves more in a clean environment!

Community Pride: A clean playground contributes to a sense of community.

In recent news, many communities have reported increased awareness about health in public spaces, with playgrounds becoming a focal point. Local officials even discussed new cleaning protocols as a response to the pandemic—a much-needed upgrade! So, rolling up our sleeves and taking the time to educate our children on the importance of cleaning up after themselves can make a big difference. It’s like the old saying goes, “Many hands make light work.” And when we instill these values in the next generation, we create not just cleaner spaces, but healthier habits. At the end of the day, we’re all just one spill away from chaos at the playground, but what’s essential is that we keep those little hands safe and sound. After all, we want them to experience joy and laughter, minus the sneezes and sniffles!

Now, we are going to talk about why keeping our play areas clean is crucial in today's atmosphere. Who would have thought that a sandbox could become a germ factory, right? Just a few years ago, parents often fretted over scraped knees and muddy shoes, but now we’re all scrubbing surfaces and dodging invisible enemies like germs.

Importance of Cleanliness in Playgrounds

When we think of a playground, what usually comes to mind? Kids laughing, swinging, and probably a hefty dose of dirt under those merry little feet. But what lurks beneath the surface? For instance, playground equipment sees more action than a blockbuster movie during summer! Little hands cling to monkey bars and slides, but each enthusiastic grip can leave behind a cocktail of germs. This isn't just about aesthetics—sure, we want the slides to shine like a new penny—but it’s about health too!

Germs love playgrounds! Children inadvertently turn these areas into germ-spreading champs.

Invisible threats. Those friendly little hands? They can transfer everything from colds to even worse.

Longevity of germs. Some can survive on surfaces longer than a romantic movie marathon—think days, not hours!

Remember the days before the viral headlines? Associated with playgrounds were scraped knees and lost shoes, not microscopic enemies. Since the pandemic began, we've all become self-appointed germ experts. Even while children zip down slides, giggling carefree, we’re mentally calculating the potential risk of picking up more than just scraped knees!

Take the influenza virus, for example; it’s like that pesky guest who overstays their welcome, hanging out on surfaces for as long as two full days! And our uninvited COVID-19 buddy? Studies suggest it can cling to plastic for up to three days. That’s longer than most Netflix series take to binge-watch!

As we enjoy more time outdoors—rocking that social distancing like pros—it's clear: playgrounds need regular TLC. We can't simply wipe away visible dirt and call it a day; we have to think about what isn't seen. It’s that age-old saying: “Out of sight, out of mind” doesn’t apply here. Keeping our playgrounds clean isn't just about making them look pretty; it's about creating a safe haven for laughter and play.

Even though the panic around COVID-19 might be easing, germs are still lurking like the last slice of pizza at a party—tempting but potentially dangerous. Regular cleaning isn’t just good practice; it’s essential for everyone’s peace of mind. Who wants to send their child to a playground with germs pitching a tent in the sand? Let’s keep our play zones sparkling!

Now we are going to talk about the essential reminders that keep us safe while we tackle our cleaning and disinfecting chores.

Conclusion

Cleaning playgrounds isn’t about turning into a germaphobe; it’s about giving our kids a safe place to revel in joy. Armed with a few clever strategies and maybe a bucket of soapy water, we can all pitch in to keep these spaces sparkling. So, let’s keep the grimy spots to a minimum and ensure that kids can just focus on climbing, sliding, and living it up, all while leaving the dirt to history. Let's wear our superhero capes of cleanliness and take action—for happy, healthy little ones!

FAQ

Why is keeping playgrounds clean more important than ever?Keeping playgrounds clean is essential for reducing the spread of germs, ensuring safety, enhancing enjoyment, and fostering community pride.

What are some common threats that lurk on playground equipment?Playground equipment can harbor germs, viruses, and debris, which pose health risks to children.

How can cleanliness impact children's health?Maintaining cleanliness on playgrounds helps reduce the risk of illness by lowering the spread of germs, which can prevent surprise visits to the pediatrician.

What are some tips for cleaning playground equipment effectively?Routine inspections, using eco-friendly cleaners, employing soft wash methods, and ensuring thorough drying of equipment are effective cleaning strategies.

What essential precautions should be taken while cleaning?Wear gloves, ensure proper ventilation, check expiration dates on cleaning supplies, and avoid mixing products to prevent harmful reactions.

Why is it important to educate children about cleaning up?Instilling values of cleanliness in children can lead to healthier habits and create a sense of responsibility for maintaining shared spaces.

What should be done to tackle mold and mildew on playgrounds?Using a bleach solution, vinegar spray, or commercial mold removal products can effectively address mold and mildew on play equipment.

How can community involvement enhance playground cleanliness?Organizing community cleaning events fosters collaboration, reduces the workload for individuals, and reinforces a shared commitment to maintaining clean play areas.

What role do handwashing stations play in cleanliness?Handwashing stations provide children with the means to clean their hands after playing, reducing the transfer of germs onto playground equipment and personal items.

How can antimicrobial features in playground equipment enhance safety?Antimicrobial coatings on playground equipment help reduce the growth of germs and bacteria, providing an added layer of protection for children during play.

[quiettime3]

Anomaly Agent

Anomaly Agent appears to be a first (and so far, only) outing from developer Phew Phew Games on Xbox consoles, but it plays like a mastercraft made by true professionals. I snapped this one up due to the striking visuals shown off in the trailer, the excellent concept, and yes, I’ll admit, a reasonably simple looking 1000g to add to my gamertag, and wasn’t disappointed in any way.

Players take control of Agent 70, a soon-to-be-promoted operative working for a government agency that hunts for and takes down anomalies. This is demonstrated in fantastic style with the short prologue, which throws you right into your most recent operation, taking down a gravity anomaly that will shift the levels in brilliantly over-the-top action movie fashion. The gameplay itself is a mix of beat-em-up combat and fluid platforming that allows you to upgrade your favourite tools as you go. However, not all upgrades are purchased with money!

At regular intervals players can pick how they want Agent 70 to act, earning points of positive or negative emotion from key characters throughout the story. These points can be spent to gain extra health or coins, adding a cool new level to your character choices and encouraging engagement with the quirky cast of characters around you. Every person you meet, from enemies to allies and all the NPCs in between, has their own charm to them, and the devs have done a fantastic job at making the world of Anomaly Agent feel alive. The pixel art style doesn’t feel like a limitation, but instead a purposeful choice, with flashes of key character art really helping to fill in the uncertainties of people’s appearances (and assist in a couple of my favourite gags in the game!) - overall, it’s a pleasure to explore and take in the sights.

Another high point is the music that accompanies your mission. A funky blend of bass guitar and groovy synth combines with Agent 70’s distinctive dress sense to create a fabulously retro vibe, despite the cyberpunk setting. Whilst the music does loop for a while if you get stuck on a tricky section, it never got old to me personally, and I really appreciated the effort put into the soundtrack.

Difficulty is customisable, and with no achievements tied to harder modes, you can feel free to change it around at your leisure. Hardcore players can turn off indicators that show when enemies are about to perform a parryable attack and rely on their own senses, though it’s recommended to keep this on. I played through on normal, and finished up a run in about 5 hours. Some bosses did require a bit of focus, but nothing felt unfair, aside from a little frustration at my low health near the early sections. The controls are responsive and clear, and the combat feels great to get right, dodging and parrying enemies all over to string together combos with style.

If the way I’ve been singing its praises hasn’t made it obvious enough, I definitely recommend that you check Anomaly Agent out. Watching the trailer should make it clear whether or not the gameplay is for you, and the story can appeal to anyone - I certainly got drawn in. The visuals are appealing too, and the characters really grew on me as time went on. It’s a little more expensive that some others on this list, but I think it’s worth the money. Alter the difficulty to whatever you find the most fun, turn up the funky beats, and enjoy the ride.

Pros:

• Satisfying combat system controls well and feels great to master

• Emotion points make for a fun and unique dialogue system

• Amazing soundtrack boosts the fun factor up to eleven

Cons:

• A little more expensive than other games of this length

• Rare moments of lag can really mess up your flow