#Oh boy... Here we go again with research...

[fgfirenation]

Me : Hm. I need to come back to Dislyte and see what I've missed about the lore after a whole year.

Also me, when I see the amount of shit I have to catch up with in Dislyte's universe :

[whateveriwant]

I just read your pregnant wife with 141 but that got me thinking. What about horny pregnant wife with 141

Feel free to ignore this if you feel uncomfortable writing it 

-🍱 (if it’s not taken)

I haven't written smut in ages so forgive me if I'm a little rusty. 18+ only pls and thx (vaginal sex, cunnilingus)

Soap

Hooo boy! Alrighty, here we go

So for starters, that man is PENT UP. Like seriously, he's so backed up, he thinks he can feel it all the way to his esophagus

Since you first got pregnant, it's been nothing but morning sickness, aches and pains, and a total and utter lack of desire on your part

Trust him, he's tried taking care of himself in the meantime, but it's never really gotten the job done since it wasn't with you

But once you enter your second trimester and the desire has come back, it takes everything in him not to ravage you the moment you give him the green light

Why? Well, truth be told, he's scared about potentially hurting you or the baby

You know how he can get in the sack. What if he dents the wee bairn’s poor head? He's knocking (more like pounding) right on the little one’s door after all

You have to assure him that he's not going to hurt you or the baby (and please, never refer to your cervix as a door again)

So he'll start slow and gentle at first, not wanting to be too harsh, but it won't take much to get him back to fucking you hard and rough like you're used to

He's got your knees up by your chest (or, as close as they can get) while he’s drilling into you from above, snarling like an animal

When he finally finishes, it's loudddd, slamming the headboard against the wall, and he pushes his hips as far forward as they'll go while he empties four months worth of cum inside you

Ghost

I'm so sorry to have to be the one to inform you, but you're not getting that man's cock while you're pregnant

It's not because he's overly rough when you make love normally; it's just that he's not willing to take any chances when you're in such a delicate state

However, the man is inherently a giver, so with just enough whining and begging and pleading from you, he'll oblige you to some degree

He'll stick mostly to his fingers or his mouth, maybe a toy or two if you're really needy, but he's generally going to rely solely on his own skill to get you where you want to be

He'll have you recline against a mountain of pillows while he settles himself between your legs, his arms looping around your hips to hold you still for him while he works

But he doesn't just dive right in, oh no siree. The man loves to tease you – kissing your thighs, the inside of your knee, the bottom of your belly first

He'll turn you into a pathetic little thing squirming desperately for his touch, before finally granting you mercy by giving you his tongue

He'll make you cum so hard with just his mouth alone that you'll temporarily lose all thought of that gorgeous dick of his

But afterwards, if you want to return the favor, you certainly won't hear him complaining about it

Oh but trust that the moment the doctor gives the okay after you’ve given birth, he's gonna be all over you, making sure you walk funny the next morning (and the following week after that)

Gaz

Like the other two, Gaz is concerned with potentially putting you and the baby in a dangerous position

But the man is a sucker for your puppy dog eyes, so it doesn't take much convincing to get him to take you to bed

But he still wants to be safe about it, so he researches the best positions for couples to have sex while pregnant

That's how you find yourself in his lap, naked back to his chest, as he sits in one of the chairs he dragged in from the dining room

You're bouncing on his dick, hands braced on his thighs, ass smacking off the hard plane of his lower stomach as you lift up and down

His hands on your hips are more of a placeholder than a guide as he lets you set the pace, just sitting back while you take what you need from him

It doesn't even matter if he cums or not, that's honestly the farthest thing from his mind. All he cares about is making sure you're satisfied in the end

Need him to snake his hand forward, tracing the curve of your belly down, until he's circling your clit in fast, tight motions? Gladly, love.

Your thighs may burn and your eyes may water, but there's something about this position that makes him hit so deep that it leaves you gasping for more

Ultimately, your orgasm will trigger his own (nothing gets him there faster than the sound of you cumming), and afterwards he'll help you into the bath where he'll clean and massage your aching muscles better

Price

Unlike the other three men, Price is eager to fuck you the moment you show even the smallest inkling of want

What's that? His poor baby needs him to fuck her right now? Say no more, sweetheart. Hubby's come to the rescue

That man is dicking you down anytime, anywhere he can

Just got done shopping? He'll find a deserted road to pull over on. Just stepped into the shower? Might as well kills two birds with one stone

Really, it becomes a challenge to find where in your house he hasn't had you in these last few months. The kitchen, the garage, the back porch. You name it, he's done it (multiple times, in fact)

But his favorite – oh boy, his favorite without a shadow of a doubt – is when he takes you in front of your bedroom’s full length mirror

He'll hold you up from behind, standing you both on your feet, and just watch as he fucks you nice and slow

Seeing it in profile is fun when he wants to watch his dick slide in and out of you, but he's especially fond of having you directly face the mirror

There's just something about getting to watch you – that pretty face, those juicy tits, that fucking delectable rounded belly – that makes him blow his load faster than a damn rocket launch

With the number of times he's had you like this, you swear, that man of yours is trying to knock you up a second time (But shhhh. Quiet now. Don't go giving him any bright ideas, sweetheart.)

[avelera]

Going along. with my theory that, "Both Jayce AND Viktor think the other guy is out of their league, which is why they never officially dated." I think one of the misunderstandings that keep them from hooking up sooner stems from how we, the audience, and Jayce see his first encounter with Viktor.

We, the audience, and Jayce see a sequence of events where Jayce met Viktor at his absolute lowest moment. His life's work just literally blew up in his face. Then, when he tries to pitch it to Heimerdinger he's immediately shut down, his future hopes are dashed by his expulsion from the Academy AFTER Mel goads him into talking about magic which turns the rest of the Council against him, his patron (Cassandra Kiramman) abandons him, and his mother calls him mentally unwell in front of everyone in the Council chamber and disavows what she's seen with her own eyes about the magic that has inspired him ever since.

Jayce has lost everything and is ready to end his own life in response because he sees no hope for himself, no purpose in living.

From that perspective, Viktor extending a hand, saying he believes in Jayce's work enough to dedicate his life to working alongside him, is a literal godsend. This senior classmate who is smart enough to earn a spot as the Dean's assistant throws all of that away just to give Jayce at his lowest moment his vote of confidence?

I don't think it's an understatement to say that Viktor saved Jayce's life and from that moment, the moment Viktor gives Jayce back the gem bracelet which was a symbol of Jayce's life and life's work, he is literally giving Jayce back his life and Jayce is determined to dedicate that life to saving Viktor's and making him proud with Hextech. He starts with Viktor on such a high pedestal above him as a result.

Ok, so that's all pretty obvious from the show itself. But what about Viktor's perspective?

From Viktor's perspective, Jayce saved his life, or rather, his career and all his ambitions for this world. When we meet him, Viktor had traveled as high as he can as a poor kid from the undercity, with all his disadvantages, using his own ability. He's assistant to the most powerful man (yordle) in the city on just his smarts alone. But now his life is stagnant.

His ambition was to discover a scientific innovation that would change the world and, possibly, cure himself. And here he meets this scientist, who is younger than him who through an independent study, on his own, has created the miracle which will actually transform this age. And he did it without going through the system (yes he had the Kiramman patronage but he was not telling them what he was working on), without telling anyone what he was working on, without the blessing or assistance of Heimerdinger.

Not only that, but this man is willing to stand up to the most powerful people in the city and say his research was groundbreaking. Then, when everything is stripped away from him, he's prepared to die for his convictions rather than live in a world where he can't advance his research.

I can only imagine this was incredibly humbling for Viktor, to see someone else coming up with the world's most life-changing technology while he was fussing around being an assistant. He takes the leap immediately from, again, working for the most powerful man (yordle) in the city to throwing his entire lot, his career, everything he's earned up to that point, in an all-out gamble to support the invention of Jayce's mind.

And then Jayce is generous enough to let Viktor come on board with him. To call Viktor his partner, even though he wasn't the originator of the idea (and oh BOY is that gonna become a time paradox in and of itself later, did Viktor technically originate the idea when he inspired Jayce with that stone? Where does it actually begin??). Viktor might be an assistant again, but at least he's an assistant to the most important and revolutionary work of this age.

But he doesn't see Jayce's rejection by Heimerdinger in the prison cell, or know what the strategy to survive the trial was supposed to be without the fuck-up of falling for Mel's goading, or his subsequent rejection by Cassandra Kiramman outside the gates, or his mother's rejection of the magical event they saw with their own eyes. He doesn't see Jayce's lowest moments, only the two ideological stands he took both in defending his work to the Council and being willing to die when it's taken from him.

Basically, Viktor could very well see himself as second-fiddle to Jayce in accomplishment alone, then throw in everything Jayce has just naturally, like his looks and his background, and you begin to piece together why both of them might have thought the other was out of his league, and why Viktor fought so hard to create innovations to match Jayce's, or seen himself as flawed and a work in progress until he had such independent accomplishments, and why he would hesitate to confess his feelings to Jayce until he felt he had something to offer in return, not realizing he had already given Jayce the world and literally given Jayce back his life.

[wileycap]

Go see the new Dungeons and Dragons movie. Just run. Don't finish reading this post.

That was SO REFRESHING. GOD.

Some minor spoilers ahead, but frankly nothing that would spoil your enjoyment of the plot:

A man and a woman who are friends and co-parents, who don't constantly belittle and snark at each other and who aren't falling in love? Mwah! Fucking finally. A genuine friendship where they BOTH respect each other! FUCKING WHEN IS THE LAST TIME

And the humor doesn't get in the way of the characters! It's funny, but in a funny-for-real way, not in a research-shows-1-joke-per-48-seconds-is-optimal way.

Like: the barbarian woman goes to visit her halfling ex. Oh boy, here we go, right? WRONG. They have a mature, respectful, heartfelt and open conversation about where their relationship went wrong, and wish each other well.

Afterwards, the barbarian walks out to the bard, who gives her a Look. Oh boy, THIS is it. This is where the dumb jokes happen. WRONG AGAIN. The bard sees that his friend is clearly hurting, and just starts singing Their Song until she joins in. Like. An actual friendship moment. No jokes. It's cheesy but in the way that actual people are cheesy.

It doesn't depend on you being some ultranerd for DnD, either: it's not like Marvel's obsession with pointing out that yes, Steve the Intern WAS forced at gunpoint to comb through the entire run of Waffle Ass Man from the 80s in order to find you a Reference. It's just place names and some tropes that all stand on their own while showing that yes, they are adapting DnD and they are earnest about it. (I've played like 3 times, I didn't know shit going in.)

Earnest is actually a great word. The whole movie feels so earnest.

Fucking finally, a fun adventure movie. I could watch like 20 of these. Just give me, in alternating years, one Benoit Blanc mystery and one DnD movie, and I'll be happy.

[blueblossomrose]

Hey I just send this parents series,I could ask for one with the idea parents interacting with Orpheus

- Anon 🍎

Of course! Here we go 🕊

This post is part of the Twisted Parents Series.

Content: Shrouds being extremely caring and protective grandparents, post-canon, fem!afab!MC, fluffy, broken humor.

Comments and reblogs are very welcome! ♡

To start, it is necessary to understand that Orpheus is they only grandson.

Due to the sad and traumatic events with Ortho, Idia's closed-off personality and the family curse, Mr. and Mrs. Shroud did not have much hope of having grandchildren, even though they wanted them.

So when Idia showed up dating MC, they were to the point of setting off fireworks.

They almost did, but Mr. Shroud convinced Mrs. Shroud to save the fireworks for when they gain a grandchild.

As stated in resume hcs, they absolutely loved MC and couldn't accept even the thought of Idia breaking up with her. No way.

When the wedding came, they were happy, ecstatic, very joyful.

And then, the most anticipated news of the millennium for the Shroud family: MC was pregnant!

Mrs. Shroud immediately shouted: "ORTHO! BRING ON THE FIREWORKS!"

Meanwhile, Idia: ☠️

He already knew what this would probably entail from now on.

Mr. and Mrs. Shroud are very loving and protective grandparents. Especially on Mrs. Shroud's part, as she is more outspoken about it.

But Mr. Shroud isn't far behind either. He doesn't use many words, but his actions say how much he loves his grandson. Orpheus has absolutely everything he wants, whenever he wants it. His grandparents buy him anything, and create things for him.

Again, Orpheus is they only grandson. Everything that happened to Ortho and Idia in the past still affects them, even if they've gotten better at dealing with it over the years. But they make it clear that having Orpheus in the family is no way to replace Ortho or anything like that.

Having Orpheus in the family is they own blessing, a hope. Being part of the Shroud family for many years is considered a curse, for obvious reasons, in a way it really is. But being together there proved that it doesn't have to be like that all the time.

They learned how to better deal with the curse over the years, mainly with Idia's internal research, which brought some temporary solutions that were sufficient.

So when Orpheus was born, the situation was different, more favorable.

They are the kind of grandparents who will always defend their grandchild. Yeah Idia, you want to scold your son? Don't try that while the Shroud grandparents are visiting.

They won't let you scold their baby boy.

Orpheus name was chosen because it starts with "O" like Ortho. It was a tribute.

[Name] held Orpheus in her arms, rocking him gently as Mrs. Shroud finished straightening the little blue onesie she had bought especially for her grandson.

The living room of the home, normally slightly cold to match Idia's behavior, was filled with a warm and almost chaotic energy. Small electronic toys and gifts were scattered across the coffee table, the result of the recent visit.

"Oh, look how adorable he has become!" Mrs. Shroud exclaimed, her face was lit up with a genuine smile as her eyes roamed over the baby’s tiny figure.

“He’s 30% warmer in that onesie!” Ortho announced excitedly, jumping around [Name] and the baby, little sparkles emitting from his digital display, a sign of his joy.

“He looks perfect.” Mr. Shroud commented, his small, somewhat restrained smile reflecting a calmness that contrasted with his wife.

Beside him, Idia let out a dramatic sigh, as if he had already foreseen how this family scene would unfold.

“Oh, but the cap is missing from the set!” Mrs. Shroud suddenly exclaimed, pulling a small blue cap out of her shopping bag as if she had found the final ingredient for a perfect recipe.

She walked over to [Name], carefully reaching out and placing the small cap on top of Orpheus’s head, the baby’s faded blue hair already beginning to shyly poke through.

With the cap in place, Idia finally spoke, his voice slurred but slightly amused. “Heh, he looks like Mega Man.”

Ortho laughed at this. “That’s right!”

“The outfit is adorable, Mrs. Shroud!” [Name] said sincerely, smiling as she watched her son dressed so perfectly.

“Oh, [Name], please!” Mrs. Shroud replied, turning her attention to her with a warm gaze. “It’s been so many years! There’s no need to call me that. You can call me mother!”

As the two talked, Orpheus began to babble softly, chewing on his fingers. His innocent eyes sparkled, and his little nose wrinkled as if he sensed something strange.

Ortho, ever observant, knelt in front of the baby, leaning down excitedly to talk to him. “Orpheus, are you comfortable? Isn’t that the coolest onesie? I bet you’re 100% safe and warm now!”

But before he could say anything else, Orpheus took a deep breath, as if he were about to sneeze. Then…

“ATCH! ” A small, fiery flare exploded from the top of Orpheus’s head, burning the blue cap completely in a matter of seconds. The fabric crumbled into ash, leaving only the baby’s faded blue hair, now transformed into soft flames that danced in the air.

Everyone in the room froze for a moment, staring open-mouthed at the scene.

“Ahhh!” Mrs. Shroud gasped, her hands going to her face, but in awe, not panic. “Oh my God, his hair…! Ohhh my beautiful baby!”

“The temperature rose so quickly! The cap was destroyed!” Ortho said with genuine amazement.

“Ahhh... so young and already showing us his fiery hair…” Mr. Shroud murmured, emotional.

Idia, still standing next to [Name], widened his eyes in shock before exchanging a glance with his wife. [Name], in turn, began to laugh.

“Yeah… I guess we know who he gets it from,” she says, looking at her husband, who sighed deeply, running a hand through his own fiery hair.

Idia leaned over to look at the charred remains of the cap on the floor, frowning. “I guess I better get something to clean this up…”

He took a step toward the door, clearly trying to discreetly leave the commotion. However, before he could escape, a firm hand landed on his shoulder, making him freeze and sweat.

“Where do you think you’re going, Idy?...” Mrs. Shroud’s voice was soft, but filled with irrefutable authority. “Let’s take a picture. Of all of us. Now.”

"Gulp..." Idia swallowed dryly.

“I’ll get the camera,” Mr. Shroud said calmly, rising from his chair. He seemed almost pleased to be part of this special moment.

“[Name], [Name]! Can I hold Orpheus in the picture?” Ortho asked, jumping up and down excitedly.

“Of course, Ortho.” [Name] replied with a smile, carefully handing the baby over to her robotic brother-in-law, who held him with the precision of his mechanical parts and a surprisingly human affection.

Orpheus, in turn, let out a happy sound, the flames on top of his head dimming to a soft glow.

Shrouds. Always a curious experience.

[t1red-twilight]

play nice

content/warnings: gn!reader, fluff, protective!dean, relationship gets established, cursing, gratuitous smooching because i like it

summary: you have to interrogate someone for a case, but he gets a little too comfortable.

word count: 2k

masterlist d. w. masterlist

a few mysterious deaths urged the three of you to southern california. what had started as a feeble attempt at relaxing had ended in scouring small-town news for something interesting. none of you could handle sitting still for an extended period of time without going batshit insane, so dean found a case that was definitely easy mode.

presently, sam was back at the motel doing some research (typical), and you and dean were approaching a diner to interrogate a victim’s friend. the air was brisk, and your tacky suit did little to warm you.

the diner was basically a carbon copy of the approximate 50 thousand diners you had eaten at within the years you had known the winchesters. “so, wait, who is this guy again?” you asked dean. this had all been explained to you earlier, but you couldn’t recall any information.

the two of you paused outside the diner entrance. “aaron williams. he’s the most recent victim’s roommate. he wasn’t at the scene yesterday when we looked around.” you straightened your suit coat. ah, now you remembered. he was some idiot former-frat-boy drop out, sam had said.

you nodded affirmatively. you reached forward and tried to push the door open, only to be met with resistance. hearing dean snicker behind you, you quickly pulled open the door and allowed him to enter before you. “its a pull door, dumbass,” he teased.

you kicked his shoe, trying to alert him that you had an image to uphold. “i figured that out, genius,” you whispered. an employee approached you, clad in a stained fifties-esque uniform. they were clearly on the younger side.

“hello. i’m special agent nicks, and this is special agent buckingham. we need to speak to aaron williams?” as you introduced yourself, you reached into your breast pocket and fished out the faux id, and dean mirrored you. there was a pause. “about the death of luke johnson?” you continued.

a look of realization dawned on the employee’s face, and they turned to look over their shoulder before turning back to face you. “oh, okay. uh, let me go get him.” they scampered away quickly. you snorted, but tried to cover it with a cough. teenagers.

the man that approached you was tall. about sam’s height, maybe an inch or two shorter. his was thick, curly brown hair on his head, and thick stern eyebrows. you immediately were drawn to him, you were sure that anyone would be.

out of the corner of your eye, you could see dean turn and look at you, disbelief spread across his face. red, hot embarrassment spread out over your face. your lips pulled into a thin line, and dean scoffed and rolled his eyes. “you needed to talk to me?” aaron asked, now in front of you.

dean inched forward slightly, his already gruff voice dropping in tone. “yes. we should probably sit.” you both flashed your badges again. dean tilted his head on either side, popping his neck. before he sat, he pulled out your chair. aaron did not follow, and dean gestured, somewhat aggressively, for him to sit.

aaron proceeded to lounge back in the diner chair. his long legs were spread out underneath the table, feet almost touching yours. “so, we understand that you were luke’s roommate?” you prodded.

aaron looked away, and nodded. at your stern gaze, he responded verbally. “yes. found the body.” his face was aloof and devoid of any emotion, positive or negative.

dean leaned forward, torso pressing into the table. his loosened his clenched jaw to speak. “yes. that’s why we’re here,” he spoke, annoyed. you tapped his thigh in an effort to get him to chill the hell out.

“sorry, aaron,” you apologized. “agent buckingham and i are just a little behind schedule today. had luke been erratic or weird the days before you found him?”

aaron sat up a little straighter. “i mean, kind of. he was just a weird dude in general.” he was clearly acting too nonchalant for dean.

dean scoffed, and you swatted his leg again. “weird how?” dean pressed. aaron shrugged. a stiff silence followed, and dean tried (albeit poorly) to hide how irritated he was getting. “well if you’re not-“ he started, his volume raising. any semblance of attraction you had to aaron was quickly diluted by his idiocracy. he was either dumb, enjoyed wasting people’s time, or both. great. this was going to go just great.

you cut him off, “did any of his habits change, did he talk about or do things he usually didn’t?” you couldn’t risk dean making a scene, and more importantly, you really needed to find out something from aaron.

aaron sighed deeply. “i don’t know. i’ve been kinda,” he paused, “busy.” he punctuated his sentence by raising both his eyebrows. you understood the innuendo he was trying to get at.

aaron leaned forward, placed his elbows on the table, and licked his lips.

desperately fighting off a sneer, you kept your voice as monotonous as possible. “how did you find the body?”

aaron looked around playfully. “it was in the living room. saw him when i walked in.” dean scoffed, and aaron continued. “he was bloody. i don’t know, i called the police.” you could practically feel dean’s eyes roll.

you flicked your eyes over to dean, to get his attention and signal him that you were ready to leave. there was no way in hell that you were going to get information out of this douchebag, none that would be beneficial anyway.

aaron spoke up and broke you out of your thoughts. “you know, you’re too much of a looker to be fbi,” his tone was flavored with something you didn’t like. clearly, dean didn’t either with the curses he began muttering under his breath.

“excuse me?” you paused to give him a chance to take back what he said, but instead he just doubled down.

aaron leaned forward on his forearms even further, “i think that we could have some fun together, if you just left your-“

all in one motion, dean’s arm shot around your waist and pulled you into his side and stood up forcefully. thus, you stood up with him; it wasn’t as if he was giving you any option to act unaccordingly. oddly enough, you sighed and felt some tension dissipate from your shoulders. “alright, that’s enough. thank you for all of your bullshit and for not being of any help whatsoever,” dean was almost yelling. with a grandiose movement, dean’s hands were suddenly on your face.

quickly you felt him pull you closer. your hands gripped his wrists but had no intention on pushing him away from you. you knew what was about to happen: you had done it many times before, but dean had never been so forward in private, let alone in public.

dean slotted his lips against yours in a kiss that was more teeth than anything. as you felt him exhale against your face, you bit his bottom lip and pulled away from his face. his head tilted almost imperceptibly to the right, and he kissed you once more with a small pecking motion. his lips were chapped and in need of some vaseline or something, but you didn’t mind. shit, you were still in public. so much for not letting dean make a scene.

“have a good day, dick,” he tagged on sarcastically. you hadn’t seen, but dean had flipped aaron off.

his hand slipped from your face and down to your own hand. turning, he pulled you towards the door. when you both had gotten several steps away from the dingy diner, you stopped him.

“hey, are you okay? what was that?” the green in his eyes swirled with something. anger, you figured.

dean pulled his hand away from yours, and waved them around as he spoke. “he shouldn’t fuckin’ talk to you like that. it’s, you’re better than- fuck, i-“ he stopped when you snorted. “what?”

you grabbed his intelaced your fingers once more. “it’s just,” you swallowed down your laughter. “you should really learn to play nice, you know.” you took his other hand in yours. the chill in the air was no longer an issue with how close the two of you were standing.

dean looked away for a moment before down back into your eyes. “well he shouldn’t have messed with someone who carries a gun,” dean gestured toward the gun in his waistband.

you chuckled again. while he might have been joking, he still had a stern expression on his face. “i also carry a gun,” you teased him, one eyebrow quirked upwards.

the seriousness melted off his face. dean readjusted his footing, and his posture loosened. “i’m more inclined to use mine on dimwits than you are.” there was a smile in his tone now.

you let go of one of his hands and used his neck as leverage to pull his lips closer to yours. you kissed him shortly before speaking again. “thank you, dean. for always sticking up for me, i mean.” you thumb traced circles on the part of his neck where his skin met his hair.

his face turned away while he responded, “i know you can handle yourself, i’ve seen it, i just-“ you turned his face back to yours.

“you’re perfectly fine,” you tried to sound as assuring as possible.

really, you were flattered. and you of course knew that dean knew that you could handle yourself. you wouldn’t have lasted this long if you couldn’t. “i’ve been flirted with before, what set you off this time?” you questioned. in the past this had never been an issue. in fact, you had flirted with- and even kissed- random people to get information before. what had changed from then until now?

“i don’t know, i-“ his adam’s apple bobbed, and motioned for him to continue. “okay, maybe i like you.” your eyebrows shot up, almost into your hairline. his face held a vulnerable expression. dean’s mouth was barely agape, and his eyebrows were slightly knit together.

your shock quickly morphed into adoration. a grin stretched across your face. “like me?”

his relief was evident. “you know what i mean,” if your eyes had been closed you would’ve still sensed his smile. you had known for a while. sam had mentioned things offhandedly, and it helped that you knew dean like you knew the back of your hand. it wasn’t long before you sensed something in your dynamic change. perhaps you just figured your feelings would never boil over and that everything would return to how they had previously been. you had never been so glad to be so wrong in your life.

you quirked your head to the right coyly. “i don’t know. do i?” a faux expression of confusion sat on your features.

“fuck. fine. do you maybe want to…” dean trailed off, his voice lowering.

your hand rose to cup your ear, “what? i can’t hear you?” cruel as you were, you wanted to hear him say it.

dean swallowed his pride and admitted it. “can we be official? uh, please?” he was looking down at your shoes, and a red glow bloomed on his cheeks. you tilted his chin up and kissed the corner of his mouth.

“only because you asked so nicely.” as soon as you finished speaking dean was kissing you again. only this time, it was a different type of passion. dean kissed you with a silent fervor that craved more of as the seconds passed. his tongue swiped your upper lip, and so you parted them.

your hand trailed into his hair as dean’s cradled the small of your back. his hands were so large, and you were truly appreciative of that fact presently.

when you and dean separated a string of saliva connected your mouths. he spoke, his voice merely a whisper. “maybe we should get back to sammy,” he spoke through red, kiss-bruised lips.

you smiled. “that’s probably a good idea.”

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Just Protecting

Batsis!reader

wc: 1.2 K summary: you start dating someone from the alternative scene and your brother (and his kids) get suspicious. warnings: kind of yandere? I have no idea, no y/n used, gender of your partner is not specified a/n: (divider, @k1ssyoursister) it doesn't even have to be someone from an alternative universe, i strongly believe that they'll try to secretly research about them without you knowing.

It started with your windows being left unlocked after going to sleep the night before. Of course it didn‘t take long for you to figure out who it could have been, but you can‘t be too sure. It‘s Gotham City after all, and your family aren‘t the only vigilantes hopping around.

Your partner didn‘t take notice of it yet, and you plan on keeping a secret until you are sure of who is breaking into your apartment at night.

After being in a relationship with them for over a year, it‘s still a little surprising for your brother when you mention them around him. Seems like he didn‘t have as much time to care about it, considering how stressful his life is. You get it, and you don‘t stress or push him about it, instead, you give him space and occasionally check up on him whenever needed.

But breaking in? To check in on you? That‘s new.

And that‘s exactly why you decided to give him a visit on a random Tuesday evening, having made up an excuse as to why you are here. Once the front gate opens, Alfred greets you with a welcoming smile and leads you inside, already starting a conversation as he makes you both a cup of tea. After several moments of talking together, Bruce managed to get out of the Batcave to meet you as well.

»What brought you here? Something happened?« Did they make a mistake? — He wants to add, but knows he will just blow his cover instead.

»Wanted to check in on you. Doesn‘t hurt to see family once in a while, no?«

You shrug your shoulders lightly and stay seated on the chair at the long dining table and set your cup down as you talk. Bruce nods in agreement, settling in the chair opposite you.

»Right, yeah. How‘s your… partner doing? Any news?«

Very smooth, Bruce, so sneaky. He waits for your answer, eyes slightly narrowed. Obviously, you don‘t fall into that trap. There‘s nothing to fall for anyway, your relationship is just fine, if not perfect. Instead, you give him a smile and start rambling off. His fault for breaking into your apartment in the middle of the night.

»Oh, great! We actually started to renovate our kitchen because our apartment is still kind of new, so that‘s where we are right now… but we also planned getting a cat once things start to look even better, and we...« At some point, Bruce stopped listening, only catching a few words as he mostly tried to figure out if there could be something else going on. But it seems like there isn‘t. Which is worrying him even more.

»Oh, look who‘s here!« You interrupt your happy rambling and instead focus on the smaller boy approaching you both, always happy to see your youngest nephew.

Damian gives you a tight smile, knowing he should at least try to give you a happy greeting in front of Bruce.

»What‘s the occasion, Auntie?« You answer the same way as before, just glad to see that this brooding boy still has the mood to go up and talk to you.

The appereance of his short cut, going back up to his room after exchanging a few words. But you didn‘t miss the way father and son exchanged a subtle nod before disappearing again. That only proved your suspicions further.

You left the manor with a Tupperware of baked goods as a gift from Alfred, getting back to your apartment with a new plan.

◐

You barricaded your window at the fire escape with a chair underneath it and sealed it shut with duct tape. The tape is just there for you to hear it getting pressed open; the chair is just for fun, hoping that Bruce will trip on it once he gets through the window.

Your partner already fell asleep, peaceful and unaware of your current suspicions about someone breaking in during the night. But you stayed up and about, doing smaller tasks around the place to keep yourself awake. You kept the lights off, expecting Bruce, or rather Batman, to drop in any second.

Once it strikes after three in the morning, the window starts to rattle lightly. It stops briefly before the person on the other side tries again, the duct tape making more noise than you thought it would. Eventually, it gets tugged off, and the window is up, open and letting the fresh breeze inside.

You settle a little deeper into your blanket on the couch and wait for the secret person to show. As expected, the larger figure almost stumbles on the chair after stepping inside, but saves himself pretty well. You stifle a small laugh at the sight, squinting through the darkness of the living room.

Finally, you turn the light back on and get out of your poor hiding spot.

»I knew you were breaking in.«

Batman stops in his tracks, attempting to close the window but gets stopped as Robin follows through, blowing up all their cover altogether. This earns a raised brow from you, silently demanding answers.

»We‘ve solely been trying to… help with your kitchen renovations.«

»I lied about them.«

Bruce‘s scowl deepens at that, while Damian just stares right back at you and hopes he won‘t be part of your scolding, this time.

»Bruce.« You call out, earning the full attention of him again. While some might be spooked or even deathly afraid of the dark knight standing in their living room with his sidekick, you feel otherwise. This is just another one of those times where you can scold your brother for something he did.

»Is patrol getting boring, or why are you two secretly visiting my place?«

Silence follows, neither of them having good excuses for their visits. You sigh out in disappointment, crossing your arms as you wait for their answers.

»It‘s for your safety. You don‘t know your partner well enough.« Damian starts this time and he can feel that was a bad choice.

»So, you‘ve been spying on us at night?«

Bruce purses his lips, knowing there‘s no way of lying himself out of this situation.

»We only took their documents and made a scan of them… to make sure they‘re not hiding anything.«

You sigh out again, glancing into your hallway to make sure the door to your shared bedroom is still closed.

»You have been what?!« You harshly whisper at them, clearly not pleased to hear it at all. The pair of vigilantes flinch in their spot, exchanging a brief look between themselves.

»We‘re only doing this for your safety.«

»They are a civilian! What do you mean ,my safety‘?«

You huff out and pace around for a moment before standing back in front of them.

Bruce and Damian watch you, probably regretting their decision.

»Can I have the documents back?«

Finally, Bruce budges and hands you over the two folders worth of personal documents. As you quickly skim through them, you realise they even took all the banking information with them.

»You are lucky they didn‘t notice before I did.« With the final sentence, you urge them out and go back to sleep after placing the documents into a safer spot.

Safe to say, you never noticed someone breaking into your home anymore, and you made sure to check up on Bruce more regularly so he won‘t become paranoid. Your partner still hasn‘t noticed anything but still feels rather intimidated whenever you both visit your family for dinner.

They can never let go of the glaring eyes your youngest nephew gives them over the dinner table.

a/n: Sorry, this came out short and a bit wobbly, hope you still got the idea though!!

←MASTERLIST

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: language, violence, oral (male receiving)

Chapter Word Count: 5306

—-MDNI—-

A/N: kind of an odd chapter tbh, there was a few things that I wanted to write so it felt best to squeeze them all in together. I want to start getting into the romance side of things with Dean, so I guess that starts here. Also I’ve been away sick so I’ve added a bit of spiciness.

New readers start here: Prologue

Previous Chapter: Chapter 13

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 14

I grasped the hanger off the rail and slung the pair of flared jeans over my arm to join the other items I was purchasing. Dean had been kind enough to give me a hundred bucks in cash - God knows where from - to get myself whatever I needed whilst he and Sam sauntered off to the menswear stores. As I browsed, lifting a crocheted crop top up before scrunching my nose at the thought of how little it would cover, the bell to the store jingled as someone else walked in. I heard footsteps slowly pace down the short aisle I was in, and as I placed the top back on the rail, I almost jumped out of my skin as someone started talking.

“Oh hey, it's (Y/n) right? You're bunking with the Winchester boys?”

I snapped my head up at the female voice, not expecting anyone out here but Sam and Dean to know my name. My eyes met a pair of warm brown ones, faint crows feet in the corners from years of joy and smiles. I recognised her; she was the short haired woman in the bunker kitchen the night we got back from the strip club.

“Uuhhhh ye- yes! You know Sam and Dean?” My expression was clearly confused as she grinned and held out her hand.

“The names Jody Mills. I've known the boys for a while now - through hunting. It's a pleasure to meet you at last - I've heard great things about you,” I juggled the clothing in my arms and grasped her outstretched hand, giving it a firm shake. She seemed to grin at that.

“Oh, they talk about me? I had no idea,” I suddenly felt a little nervous, the knowledge that I've been the topic of conversations unbeknownst to myself made me sweat a little. Jody seemed to notice this.

“They've only had great things to say, so don't panic! Especially that boy Dean. Not sure how you've done it chick but you really got that wild card wrapped around your little finger,” she raised her eyebrows almost suggestively and I felt heat start to prickle my skin.

“Wh-what? No no no, he's not-” I watched as her head tilted in my direction, eyebrows still raised as a slight grin tugged on her lips. “Have I really?”

She hummed and nodded her head, starting to flick through the clothing rail that I'd been looking at before.

“I've known that boy a few years now, and I've never seen him run to anyone the way he ran to you that night you appeared in the kitchen, looking like a kicked kitten,” she smiled softly and squeezed my arm, “you're something special to him honey, so try not to break his heart.”

“Oh,” was all I managed to say, with what I can imagine was the dumbest look on my face as I felt myself getting redder by the second. A phone ringing suddenly pulled me from my dazed thoughts as Jody reached into her pocket and answered the call. She spoke in a sterner tone than what she'd used with me, and after a few words were exchanged she hung up and returned the device to her pocket.

“I've gotta get going, but I'll try and catch you all again later. I'm in the area for a bit so I'll try and pop by. It was lovely to meet you (Y/n),” she squeezed my arm one last time before turning to leave, the bell on the door signalling her departure. I stood for a moment, my mind spinning from what she'd said about Dean. There was absolutely no way that what she'd said was true. I mean, I beat the crap out of him when we first met, and we've bickered a lot. I guess we've not argued for a good few days. And we've had sex. Oh the sex. I bit my lip as thoughts of us tangled in his sheets came to mind. Not just thoughts, but memories. Like I said to him this morning, we're just fuck buddies. Right?

*

Leaving the store with two large paper bags in one hand and my phone in the other, I first dialled Sam to find out where he was down this stretch of high street. When it went to voicemail, I hung up and dialled Deans number instead. It rang and rang, and when I thought his was going to ring through as well, he finally answered.

“Hey sweetheart, what's up?”

“Hey, I'm finished getting what I need. Whereabouts are you?”

“Uhhh…” I heard him turn to the shop assistant and ask for the name of the store he was in before he relayed it to me.

“Cool, I'll be there in two minutes. See you soon.”

“See ya.”

And with a click I hung up and tucked my phone into my back pocket and walked no more than two hundred yards to get to where he was still trying on boots. As I gingerly walked in, well aware it was a men's store and I was currently the only woman in here, Deans head snapped to the door when the arrival bell jingled.

“Hey sweetheart, you're just in time! I have no idea what to get.”

I couldn't help but chuckle slightly at the thought of the great Dean Winchester getting stumped by the more domesticated side of life.

“Well I'm here to help,” I placed my bags on the bench next to his discarded jacket. “What are the options?”

We must've spent half an hour going over the ones he'd shortlisted, then he chose an entirely different pair anyway, unrelated to the ones he'd picked out for himself.

Leaving the store and a quick phone call between the brothers, we all concluded that now was the best time to stop for lunch. Dean and I made a quick trip back to Baby to drop off our bags, with Dean opting to sport his brand new boots in favour of his old and decrepit ones. It was a short walk back to the high street now that we were bag free, and I could see Sam a mile off - his tall frame loitering outside the chosen diner, the occasional woman walking past throwing a few looks his way. He, of course, was oblivious to those looks, and when he spotted us as we neared he offered a wave. He sprouted a wide, friendly grin as we came to stand next to him.

“You guys get everything you need?”

“Yep! Took Cinderella a while to find the right boots but we got there in the end,” I flashed Dean a playful smirk as he tilted his head in slight annoyance at the nickname, which pulled a light hearted laugh from Sam.

“Oh yeah? Well, at least I didn’t spend twenty bucks on a thrifted Carhartt hoodie.”

“Hey that is durable shit, it’s worth every penny.”

“You could've had one of mine, I don't wear hoodies much anymore.”

“I somehow feel like there'd be a catch with that.”

“Uuhh, I got my jacket, if anyone cares?” Sam decided to interject, and we both turned to look at him.

“Good for you Sammy.”

“Yeah, nice one Sam,” I looked around for a second, not seeing any bags, “where is it?”

He gave me a funny look.

“What?”

“Seriously?” He asked, looking between Dean and myself. I looked at the older Winchester and seemed to have the same questions I did.

“Guys, I’m wearing it. Did you seriously not notice?”

I bit my lip.

“It looks exactly the same,” Dean spoke my own thoughts out loud.

“Well I mean technically it is. But it's not all scuffed up. Look you can clearly tell it's new,” he gestured with his hands that were still in his pockets, flapping the jacket around like he was an elongated flying squirrel.

“Not really.”

“Nope,” Dean popped the ‘p’ before he walked past both of us, “come on guys I'm starving, can we just go in?”

*

A simple lunch in the diner turned into beers in the bar which somehow turned into karaoke followed by shots. The place was bustling - all tables and booths occupied and a permanent flow of people ordering drinks. Most of the guys were of similar tastes, donning boots and leather jackets whilst the few women that were there pranced around in short-shorts and low cut tops. I for one felt a little out of place. The three of us were lucky to snag a booth, albeit close to the small stage situated up front, and I’d tucked myself into the corner, cradling my rum and coke. Dean had left his jacket beside me whilst he’d ventured off to challenge a group of guys to a ‘friendly’ game of pool, his laugh occasionally flowing over the chatter and music towards where Sam and I were sitting.

“How long do you think it’ll be until they realise they’re being conned?” I quizzed, taking a gulp from my glass and letting the bubbles fizz on my tongue before swallowing. Sam chuckled, taking a second before answering.

“Uhhh I don’t think these guys will find out until tomorrow morning.” We both laughed, knowing full well that Dean will spend all night gloating about how great he is, how we should bow in respect of the swindle master. I was lost in thought for a moment, wondering how much money he would actually walk away with when Sam’s voice pulled me back to reality.

“(Y/n), can I ask you something?”

I took another gulp of my drink, knowing full well what that puppy-dog look in Sam’s eyes meant, that furrow in his brow only accentuating it.

“Sure, go ahead.”

He took a breath.

“Are you ok? Like, really ok? Because if I’m honest, if I saw someone who I thought was dead - that I used to be in love with - stand before me after years of believing I’d never see them again; I don’t think I would be ok.”

I fiddled with the hem of Deans shirt sleeve for a second, my brain swarming with every thought I’ve been avoiding since the other night and keeping every little buzz under lock and key. I hated to admit it, but I was afraid to open Pandora’s box for the fear of ice cold confrontation. It wasn’t the wisest option, but putting the skeletons back in their closet and throwing out the key was what I genuinely thought was best. I let out an emotionally exhausted sigh before slumping back in my seat.

“I’m not ok. It still feels like some sort of fucked up fever dream, but… but thinking about it isn’t going to make me feel any better. Talking about someone who’s been dead to me for years isn’t going to take this messed up feeling away. In my mind, there’s nothing to get over where he’s concerned. Yeah, he was my teenage sweetheart, but I’m a grown woman now with a whole new brain and a whole new heart,” I could’ve kicked myself for letting my eyes flick over to Dean.

Sam sighed, resting his elbows on the table, a small smile twitching on his lips.

“If you’re sure, because you know I’m always here if you want to talk.”

“I know, thanks Sam,” I gave him a soft smile, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “Although, just one thing…”

“What’s that?” He sat up straighter.

“I don’t think it’s Daniel as a person that has me feeling like this - I grieved him and moved on from him years ago. I think… I think it’s the thought of that soul crushing sorrow coming back that scares me the most. The kind of sorrow that makes you forget what day it is; that stops you from eating and going outside and taking care of yourself. It makes you lose friends and interest in hobbies. It makes the whole world look grey and lifeless. You feel so unbearably numb that you aren’t even sure why you’re alive anymore. It makes you want to die.”

“(Y/n)…” Sam seemed at a loss for any other words as he held my hand softly across the table, running his thumb gently over my knuckles. I took a deep breath before carrying on.

“I felt like that when I lost Daniel, but when I lost Bobby, I… I…” I felt my voice crack slightly, “when I lost Bobby it was so much worse, I genuinely never thought I’d be normal ever again. Luckily for me, Charlie found me,” I grinned, remembering her determination to piece me back together. I looked up from where our hands joined, meeting Sam’s gaze.

“The only way I’d go through any of that again would be if I was to lose you guys. I know it’s not been long, but for once I’ve found something that makes me want to get out of bed in the mornings. That shit is hard to find.”

We both took a moment, feeling the weight of my words as we shared a gaze. I knew from the way his brows drew together and that far away look in his eyes that he felt everything I’d said. He’d experienced it first hand. And he knew that he didn’t have to say much, if anything, to convey that he understood. Slowly pulling my hand out from under his and placing my palm over his knuckles, I gave a gentle squeeze before standing, letting him go and grasping my glass. I threw the last mouthful back, the liquid vigorously fizzing down my throat before warming my chest. As I swallowed, I held my glass up and raised an eyebrow at Sam.

“Well shit, would you look at that - my glass is empty. Guess I’m heading to the bar. You need a top up?”

“Yeah, please. Remind me to get the next round,” he grinned as I slid out the booth and headed towards the bar. As I waded through the crowd I passed the pool table, glancing over at Dean who was deeply engrossed in taking a player's hard earned money out of his grasp. I watched the smug grin spread over his lips as he counted then pocketed the cash.

I looked up to see an opening at the bar so I squeezed in, perching myself on a stale beer-scented barstool whilst I waited for the barman to notice me. After a couple of minutes of being served he placed the drinks before me and I paid on one of Deans ‘special’ credit cards, scooping all three glasses into my grasp - with an insane amount of skill - and turned to leave. The moment my ass left the seat cushion however I found myself toe-to-toe with a very tall and very rugged stranger, the smell of cigarettes and old leather wafting around him.

“Not seen you around these parts before doll; I know I’d recognise such a pretty face,” he had a grim smirk on his face and his voice was like sandpaper - rough but certainly not sexy. I tried to take a step back but only ended up seated back on the barstool.

“Just passing through,” I did my best to flash a polite smile in the hopes he would sense I didn’t want to have this conversation. No such luck.

“A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be in a place like this all alone. Things might…happen.”

A shudder ascended my spine into my neck and I tried my best to subtly shake it out before I gave into my more defensive side.

“Who the fuck do you think I am with this many drinks? They’re clearly not all mine… ergo, I have company.”

His gross grin widened, the subject of my statement clearly not settling correctly in the empty space between his ears.

“Getting feisty… I like it. Can’t get much better than a little thing with a mouth.”

I shuddered again.

“What part of ‘I have company’ do you not fucking understand? And even if I was alone, I definitely wouldn’t be going anywhere with you.”

His grimy smirk faltered slightly, finally absorbing some of my words that seemed to be floating in the air around his thick skull.

“Aw don’t be like that.”

“Oh I’m gonna ‘be like that’ until you leave me the fuck alone.”

He took a lumbering step forwards, pushing me further onto the barstool.

“See now there’s a point when a mouth on a pretty thing becomes down right obnoxious, and you’re nearing that point sweetheart.”

“Don’t you fucking ‘sweetheart’ me you dick,” I was mentally preparing to buy another round of drinks as the thought of throwing these three at this asshole was becoming sweeter by the second, and people were starting to watch on but there wasn’t a single white knight in sight.

“Well now you’ve just crossed that line,” the second I saw him start to raise his arms my instincts kicked in and I gave into my previous thought and doused him in liquor, the amber liquid running down his face and neck and soaking into his clothes. He looked down at himself in disbelief before lifting his head back up, this time baring his teeth and raising his hand as if to slap me. I reflexively raised my arms and squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for impact.

“You stupid bitch.”

“If you touch a hair on her goddamn head ‘imma put you six feet under.”

My eyes shot open and I lowered my hands to see a seething Dean Winchester, a single strong hand wrapped around my harasser's wrist.

“Who the fuck are you?”

The faintest smirk pulled at the corner of Deans mouth before disappearing as quickly as it appeared, leaving nothing but quiet rage burning across his features.

“I’m about to be your biggest fucking problem.”

Before the asshole could even react Deans hand went from twelve O’clock to six O’clock in half a second with a sickening snap, breaking the jerks elbow with deadly skill. Practised skill. Whilst my harasser cried out and cradled his limp arm, Dean let go of him before a few of the onlookers gave Dean a nod of approval before escorting the creep out. Once he knew he was out of the building, Dean turned to me, softly grasping my chin between his thumb and index finger.

“Are you ok? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” He tilted my face left and right, scrutinising over my unharmed skin. When he was sure that there wasn’t a scratch on me he let go, relief flooding his gaze as he sighed.

“Dean I’m fine, I promise,” I reached up, fingers hesitantly grazing his stubbled cheek before I thought better of it and dropped my hand to his shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“I swear to God (Y/n), if he’d laid a finger on you he’d get a lot more than a busted elbow,” his hand came to rest on my bicep, his long fingers gently wrapping around my arm in subconscious comfort, almost pulling me towards him. My own hand seemed to slide down from his shoulder to rest softly on his chest, my fingertips feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath.

“I know,” I reassured, giving him a little smile to which he returned. I felt my soft smile turn mischievous as thoughts started conjuring in my mind.

“Come on, Sam is waiting for another drink, let's order and get back to the table.”

The bartender had seen Dean step in to help me, so luckily for us this round was on the house. As we slid into the booth opposite Sam I slid his drink over to him.

“What happened back there?” He asked, mildly concerned.

“Just some asshole thinking I was gonna leave this place with him,” I sighed, sitting down, Dean taking his seat beside me. Sam's eyes flicked between the two of us.

“I'm sure I saw him leave with his arm all out of shape, was that-”

“Yeah well, shrimp-dick had it coming,” Dean was doing his best to act nonchalant, however the moment our eyes met over the top of our drinks we couldn't stop the giggles from tumbling out.

“Guys, Dean, you can't go around breaking elbows-”

“Relax Sammy. No one's gonna say anything, they all saw him acting like a creep. Just didn't have the balls to step in. Anyway,” a darker look clouded his eyes as his gaze bore into his younger brother, “he was harassing our girl, Sam. Ain't no way in Hell I was gonna let that slide.”

There was a moment of thick silence before Sam nodded, finally agreeing with Deans actions, knowing that if it had come down to it, he might've done the same. I raised my glass to my lips, taking a long sip before placing it back on the table, looking between the boys as they continued to have some sort of silent conversation that I wasn't a part of. The mischievous thoughts from earlier kept bubbling in my mind, and it didn't take any self-convincing for me to act on them. I shuffled slightly closer to Dean, not enough to draw attention to myself but enough to be in touching distance. I glanced up at him, making sure he was totally unaware and focused on his drink before I reached out slowly, letting my soft fingertips glide over the rough denim of his jeans. I glanced up at him when I heard him inhale his drink, spluttering slightly as I squeezed the inside of his thigh. I traced the length of his inseam, watching his grip on his glass tighten, the tanned skin over his knuckles paling.

“You ok there?” I asked, feigning concern with a quirk of a brow.

“Oh I'm just peachy sweetheart,” his voice came out low, lower than I think he was expecting it to as his eyes nervously darted to Sam who was too busy opening his laptop to notice. Dean leant back on the bench, the worn leather creaking under his weight. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye, pausing for a moment before lifting his arm closest to me, as though inviting me to sit closer. Eager to oblige I scooted towards him, nibbling my bottom lip when I felt his large hand rest softly on my back, subconsciously pulling me in. I crossed one leg over the other, turning into him slightly, tilting my head to get a better look at his face.

“I think I left something in the car, would you mind coming with me whilst I grab it?”

He looked a little puzzled for a moment before shotting the last of his whiskey and nodding his head.

“Sure thing,” he turned to his brother, “hey Sammy, we’ll be back in a few.”

Sam grunted a reply, too lost in the article he was reading to pay much attention to us. Dean slid out of the booth and held his hand out to me, which I grasped. His long rough fingers enveloped my hand as he pulled me to my feet. Leaving his jacket behind, we left the bar and made our way to the impala.

The night air had turned chilly, biting at my flushed cheeks as we paced across the lot, taking all of about thirty seconds to reach the impala. Dean was a few steps ahead of me, having unlocked the rear passenger door by the time I'd arrived.

“There you are, grab what you ne- whoa!”

He was caught off guard when I placed my hands on his chest and pushed him down into the car, his broad form filling the space in the back with ease. I climbed in after him, closing the door and crawling along the back bench towards him. It took a moment, but Dean eventually caught on.

“Oh, I’m liking where this is going.”

I chewed at my bottom lip, watching him settle beneath me as he propped up slightly on his elbows, the fabric of his T-shirt stretching thin over his muscular chest.

“I wanted to thank you for being my hero. That’s the second time you’ve rescued me - I wanted to thank you properly. You know, to really show my appreciation.”

It was Deans turn to pull his bottom lip between his teeth, the corners of his plush lips turning up.

“You know, I’m starting to think you might be trouble,” his voice was getting lower with every word, each syllable rumbling in his chest and vibrating into my fingertips.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his words, feeling some truth to them as I scooted down the bench to sit between his legs before slipping into the large footwell. I patted the seat in front of me, and it didn’t even take a second for Dean to slide himself into it, sitting up straight. As I sat between his knees and looked up at him, I couldn’t help but marvel at the sight; the way the streetlights painted his face in warm amber, softening his battle-hardened features and reflecting in his eyes like dancing embers from a stoked fire. The shadows didn’t seem contradictory - the darkness we were sitting in was far from cold. Dean Winchester was not an artistic man by any means, but he himself was certainly a masterpiece.

I reached up and unbuckled his belt along with the button on his jeans, carefully dragging the zipper down after and tugging the thick fabric along with his boxers off his hips; just enough to dip my hand in and pull out his cock, already hot and heavy in my palm. He made an almost strained noise on contact and my stomach fluttered at the thought of him being so sensitive. So sensitive at my mercy. I adjusted my grip on him before going up and down, once… twice… three times… over and over at a sinfully slow pace. His hands gripped his thighs like they had nowhere else to go, and when I looked up he was watching every move I was making with knotted brows and parted lips. His eyes only found mine when I straightened my back and leant forwards, gliding my tongue up the thick length of him but avoiding the tip. Mimicking my hand, I licked up and down again and again, ever so slowly gaining speed before I finally dragged my tongue over his tip and plunged his whole cock down my throat.

“Oh fuck,” Dean gasped out, his large palms flying to my hair - long fingers knotting with the soft strands. I could tell he wanted nothing more than to shove my head down as far as it would go, but his self restraint shone through. I started to move, slowly at first, head bobbing without missing a beat. The feeling of his cock pressing against the back of my throat over and over was fine at first, but the longer I sucked him off the urge to gag grew. The size of Deans cock was not something to be taken lightly, and after a couple of minutes the impending gag hit and I pulled him out of my mouth.

“Shit, (Y/n)… How are you so good at this?” He hissed out in a breath I’m sure he’d been holding since I'd started. I assumed the question was rhetorical as I gave him a few pumps, swallowing the excess spit and precum on my tongue before leaning back in. One by one I placed hot, wet kisses up his length, placing the final one on his tip before I pulled it back into my mouth. With the new found sensitivity of my gag reflex ever-present, I avoided taking him too far down my throat, this time using one hand to reach where my mouth couldn't at his base. Adding a little twist, I felt his grip tighten once again in my hair, his long fingers absently scooping loose strands away from my face. The combination of feeling him lose his mind beneath me and the tenderness of his touch sent a flutter to my heart which quickly travelled south at the sound of his euphoric groan, his head lolling back and eyes closing. As I pressed my tongue to the large vein scaling his length I could feel his rapid pulse, my own heart rate almost as fast as his. As I continued to bob my head, I could feel him gather all my hair in one hand, his other softy tracing down over my temple, my cheek and my lips before stopping at my chin, a single swipe from his thumb removing most if the spit and precum that was threatening to stream down my neck. I would consider my next move a grave mistake - looking up through my damp lashes to meet Deans white-hot gaze fixated and fascinated with every little motion I made. The blissed-out look in his eyes could have turned a weaker woman into a puddle right then and there, and I surprised myself with my own resilience. He continued to hold me with one hand in my hair and a soft grip on my chin, my own free hand moving to grip him near the inside of his thigh. Another soft moan slipped from his lips as I started to speed up, not caring for the ache in my jaw or mess he was now too preoccupied to swipe away. I was surprised when no words left Deans lips, his usual blasphemous language replaced with velvety moans of pleasure. I could tell he was nearing his peak when his cock twitched between my lips, again and again before before he finally groaned out a strained:

“Fuck, oh shit.”

His grip tightened, like he was trying to pull me off him, however when that telltale throb made his cock graze the back of my throat I removed my hand from his base and enveloped him in his entirety, a final, breathy gasp and groan tumbling from Deans lips before the sensation of warm, viscous liquid spilled across the back of my tongue. It took a moment for the ropes to stop coming, and when they did I pulled him from my mouth slowly, looking up at his breathless form. Not taking my eyes from his, I parted my lips slightly to show his cum, glazing my tongue, before closing my mouth and swallowing the thick liquid down. He let out another groan, his grip finally releasing my hair as he ran his hands over his face, taking a moment for his eyes to find mine again.

“Holy shit, sweetheart… I feel like I just died and went to heaven.”

I couldn't stop the stupid giggle spilling from my lips as I wiped the spit from my lips and chin with the bottom of Deans shirt that I was wearing.

“For a moment there I thought you had too.”

He grinned down at me, perhaps a little bashful as he tucked himself back into his pants and refastened his belt. As he finished up, a few moments of silence hung over us as I still remained nestled between his strong thighs. His eyes met mine and they seemed to hold a thousand words that he wanted to say, and when nothing came from his lips he simply held out his hand to pull me into his lap. Just as my fingers grazed his, however, there was a loud rap at the window which spooked both of us out of our skin.

“Motherfucker,” Dean muttered before rolling down the window, and a small wave of guilt and embarrassment washed over me when I heard Sam's disbelieving yet humoured voice coming from outside.

“Guys are you fucking serious?!”

——————————————————————

@suckitands33 @jackles010378 @aliceeinwonderland420 @tina-theslytherin @deans-queen @hobby27 @sobearcowboy @girls-alias @selfdestructionandrhum @ericasabe @lacilou @littlemadamred @anneanirac @deans-baby-momma @swimregulas @ashdoctor @littlemarvelstan8 @atcamillanorrman @deangirl96 @zannemes @kr804573 @foxyjwls007 @divadinag @cookiemonstermusic258 @mysterialee @ababy-girl @joonseuph0ria @mxltifxnd0m @deans-spinster-witch @st4bl3-ch40s @feyresqueen @roseblue373 @clusterfuck-meup @urinternetmom @rachiem4-blog @ceeshellecee @mojos-hidden-castle @snowayumi @evzyi @mymuseisbipolar @magssteenkamp @koharuheartfilia @spookyysinsanity @safiyas-world @uncle-eggy @happyt0exist @supernaturalstilinski @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mrsjenniferwinchester

[in-halingstardust]

Unexpected Situation

A/N: Hi hi, its been such a long time and no I'm not dead...Maybe my brain is. But! I am going to start openign up bullet requests again. I have a few requests to get through, but this was stuck in my head for a solid week. dom!caelus x gn!reader x sub!danheng Tags: semi public sex, deep throating, sub and dom dynamics, dirty talk, praise, dirty thoughts~, NOT Beta'd sorry I'm tired :,0

You wonder how you find yourself in these situations.

What situation you might ask?

For one, you only wanted to go to the archives to research information about Xianzhou's local flora and update the records from your last trailblazing.

Second, when you heard the faint cry of Dan Heng come through the archive’s doors, you were on alert. Dan Heng, stone faced though warm, one who never showed his true emotion outwardly, the one who would only talk when he was certain about every single word that would come out of his perfect lips, gives a another cry.

Third, when you slam the door open you are extremely embarrassed at the open debauchery of the Express' silly goober Caelus slamming himself into Dan Heng against the console. Pinned against the archive is Dan Heng, one leg up hooked around Caelus shoulder, the other flexed on the floor as he grips tightly to Callus. He sees you first and in shock gives a rather harsh hit against Caelus back, his only return was a deep thrust.

Dan Heng moans fill the chamber, and you turn deep red. Not out of embarrassment but because it was the hottest thing you have ever witnessed.

It didn’t help that you had massive crush on them both.

Caelus must have eyes behind his head. The next time, Dan Heng whimpers into the crook of his neck he tilts his head back. His eyes are molten gold heavy with pleasure that leads you to feeling extremely warm in your core.

"Hey close the door,” a smirk, “I know you want in."

So when you are on your knees in front of Dan Heng's pink, slightly longer than average dick, you can't help but feel your mouth water.

Caelus runs a finger over Dan Heng’s perky nipples, "Oh pretty boy aren't you excited that they are also here to join us? Tell her how thankful you are," Caelus echoes as he twists his nipples.

Dan Heng's dick twitches in the cutest way possible in front of your nose. You can't believe this is happening.

"I- ah, thank you..." Dan Heng trails off. A full blush on his cheeks as he looks down at you.

Caelus laughs as he retracts his fingers, "Sorry (Y/N), promised Dan Heng, I give him the best fuck of his life." A devious smile curls at his lips, "We can all fuck later if we want to, but right now it's all 'bout our little dragon." Caelus hums as he presses a kiss against Dan Heng's temple. It must have been a distraction since you see Dan Heng's little mouth pucker into an "o" with the filthy sound of Caelus entering him.

Dan Heng's cock swells with each thrust of Caelus, ruining his insides and you? There is something mesmerizing seeing Dan Heng on display. How the cold stone archiver makes so many cute noises right in front of you. He doesn't hide them no- he looks at you with desire and desperation.

He wants you as well.

Something filthy clicks in your mind as you attach your lips to the tip of Dan Heng's cock. Swirling your tongue around his head as your delicate fingers stroke the base.

It's adorable how Dan Heng squeals and moans, the smell of sex filling the room once again.

He only encourages you. Taking him deeper, sucking harder as you place one hand on Dan Heng's thigh to support yourself the other guiding his cock.

What a dichotomy between you and Caelus as you pop off Dan Heng to run your tongue along a fat vein, gently coaxing him. While Caelus ups his pace, squeezing his fingers against Dan Heng's hips in pure animalistic trait.

Another thrust, "Tell her Dan Heng. Tell her about how badly you wanted her here with us. How you wanted to have her lips just like this all over your wet cock." Caelus babbles as he continues to jerk into Dan Heng in turn making his dick go further into the back of your throat till it hits the back.

You can only breath as Dan Heng uses you.

Caelus doesn't stop spilling dirty secrets and you can't help but listen to what they want to do to you. It feels so warm and wet down there, but this is about Dan Heng, not yourself. So, when you breathe in through your nose to swallow more of Dan Heng. He gives a large cry. If it wasn’t for Caelus pinning his arms back and supporting Dan Heng he would of fell from overstimulation.

"Or would you like me to tell (Y/N) about how you wish they were underneath us, taking us both? How you want to touch them all over, how that our thoughts are too dirty, too impure, that poor little baby couldn't take it even though they are taking your monstrous dick like the good little angel.”

Caelus is going faster and faster. You need to keep your hands on Dan Heng's thick thighs to keep balance. You feel him in the back of your throat. He's trying so hard not to gag you. To not make this uncomfortable for you, but it's as his dick swells in your mouth, leaving it full and large.

"Fuck!" Caelus groans against Dan Heng's shoulder. "Don't tighten up like that, feels like you're squeezing me off."

Caelus is going faster and faster. The rhythm is lost as you three are only guided by instinct. He’s close you can tell with the way he swells, the veins as they run along your tongue. It’s a dream, being used like this, the smell, the two of them. Together.

You can't believe how lucky you are.

You feel the stuttering of Dan Heng's thighs and the groans coming from Caelus as he bites his lips, his hips losing its rhythm as he reaches his climax.

Dan Heng cups first. It fills your mouth and gushes down your throat in salty flavor in pulses. His eyes are closed as his hands hold your head still till, he is spent and panting.

Caelus is next as he moans spilling inside of Dan Heng, not even pulling out as he grips Dan Heng tightly to himself whispering sweet thanks into his ears.

You. You let go of Dan Heng's cock with a pop, letting go of his thighs. Your core is wet and hot, but it's not enough to make you feel you're lost in the stars.

Of course. They know this and it's not the end of the night <3.

[cripplecharacters]

hi there, i really appreciate this blog! i was wondering if you had any advice when it comes to writing characters who use mobility aids (manual wheelchair and cane) and things that are like, pet peeves or cringey to see written? other than the big ones like “wheelchair bound” or having people just grab their chair or otherwise be disrespectful. i’m thinking more “little things that make it seem like the author is clueless” lol. thank you!

Hi!

You can check out our main #mobility aids or #wheelchairs or #canes tags for the general info! If you have a more specific question, feel free to send another ask:-)

I will talk about my own cane pet peeves because oh boy:

The most glaring, obvious, author-is-so-clueless-it-hurts thing I have somehow seen multiple times is when the writer/artist doesn't understand the difference between a mobility cane and a white cane. Usually in the form of giving their blind character the same kind of stick I use for my mobility issues. Of course, a person could need both for different disabilities! That very much happens. However, it's absolutely never the case in this kind of scenario. This one is an example of a lack of basic research so bad that it circles back to being kinda funny.

The writer not knowing which side the cane would go on for the character. Obviously, in real life, there's a whole lot of hyper-specific scenarios why someone could use it the ""wrong"" way and why it would work for them specifically, some users can also use either hand for the cane; it all depends on why they use it. The problem that I have is when the writer doesn't have a single clue about any of it and just gives their character with a bad knee and nothing else the cane on the same side. Again, shows lack of basic research.

As a certified knob cane hater, I can't just not talk about them here. They're so bad. So non-functional. Don't serve their function as a mobility device because they literally aren't one! That's a fashion accessory. Unless your character has a wrist of steel and doesn't mind that the aid meant to help with stability does the exact opposite, I guess.

I know a bunch of people will disagree with me, but I think the whole sword cane thing sucks. Sorry. The only time I don't roll my eyes on this one is when the writer is also a cane user. I always felt like it checked out two tropes that I hate, the "abled character pretends to be disabled and is actually dangerous" and the "abled writer thinks mobility aids are boring and has to stick a gun in them to justify their existence".

The cane that somehow makes the user non-disabled. Sounds contradictory, I know. I mean the kind of scenario where the character is Weak and Frail™ but then they get the cane and are suddenly just fighting, running, jumping, doing god knows what. Like, did they author forget what the cane is used for? Obviously it will depend on the character's disability how much the cane mitigates symptoms, but this writing choice always feels bizarre to me. My cane is here so that I'm not in as much pain or to help my gait disorder, it certainly doesn't turn me into an abled man who just happens to have a stick in hand.

All these tired old person or similar jokes/comparisons are probably not that funny. We get it, older people use canes. It's not even cringy or whatever, it's just so unbelievably boring it's hard to react to it with anything else than an eye roll anymore.

Apologies for the extremely late reply! I hope it helps :-)

mod Sasza

[bubbleberrypunch]

Ohhhh my god, this would fit so well as a shuggy AU

Buggy gets caught up in all the chaos of the robbery and hides out in a secluded space, but the robbers find him and- they pause. Just completely freeze where they stand. And then they're scrambling back while mumbling up a frenzy between themselves about how that's "him", he's "the guy". "Boss would kill us if we touched him!" So, Buggy is left there cowering on the floor in absolute confusion because what the fuck is going on??? The robbers leave, police come, Buggy sneaks out to go back home since he doesn't wanna talk to the cops (he's definitely done/doing illegal stuff).

He's home and that's when he decides to do some research, which is just looking through news channels and websites and social media ect ect. He's about to just go to bed when he sees that it's suspected the RHG ((Red Hair Gang (dumb name, in Buggy's opinion)) is behind the robbery, among other things. Buggy blows a major fuse when he reads who their leader is. Fucking Shanks. The red haired boy Buggy grew up with and left in the past. HE'S A CRIME LORD NOW!? And he obviously told people about Buggy- Buggy does NOT want to be caught up in gangs and shit. Why did Shanks even talk about him? What for?? God, and Buggy just moved back to his home city a few months ago, he doesn't need this! He slams his laptop closed and starts calling up contacts on his phone; he needs to find Shanks ASAP!

Okay, maybe he was being rash. Because once he finished calling people to look for more information, he finally went to bed. Wakes up in the morning and the realization dawns on him: HE DOESN'T WANT TO SEE SHANKS! Why the hell would he want to go see that bastard?! Wouldn't that just make things worse??? It'd be better for him to just forget about it and not go chasing ghosts. Right, so he gets up with the final decision that he isn't going to do anything at all and will stay at home today. And then there's knocking on his door. Buggy instantly breaks out in a cold sweat. Creeping along his hallway, stumbling through his living room, hesitantly standing at the door and sees someone he doesn't recognize through the peep hole. His breathing becomes shaky, jumps out of his skin when the person knocks again with a tad bit more aggression. His hand is trembling when he slowly reaches up to turn the door knob (Gah! He forgot to lock the damn door! Is he trying to get killed?!). Buggy cracks the door open a sliver to peer out at the stranger before him.

"You Buggy?" The unknown man asks, staring straight into Buggy's soul.

"Uh, y-yes...?"

"Come with me." He makes a motion to follow him while turning to walk off.

"Why the hell should I?! I don't know who you are!" Buggy grips the door so tight his fingertips become pale.

"My boss wants to see you." The guy stands there, half turned, and staring at him with thinly veiled annoyance.

Tapping his fingers against the door in quick succession, eyes darting here and there to avoid any more eye contact, Buggy tries to come up with- with something! Anything! He needs to stall for time.

"C-Can I at least get dressed...? Before we go? I just got out of bed, you see...", he trails off and lets out a nervous chuckle. The man heaves a big sigh, shoulders drooping, and nods his head yes. Closing the door in a somewhat calm matter, Buggy all but scrambles back to his bedroom.

Oh, no! That's definitely one of Shanks's henchmen, isn't it? It's very clear now that when you go around asking about gang leaders, word travels fast. Way too fast for Buggy's liking, that's for sure! He can't go. He absolutely cannot! What's Buggy going to do? He's trapped! Tears roll down his face because he's highly emotional, and his vision blurs while he gets dressed into his normal day wear. He takes a glance at his bedroom window...

Yeah, he's clambering out the window. Falls out of said window, the metal he lands on is not comfortable in the least, and then he begins climbing down the fire escape. He'll just hide out at one of his friends', probably go to Alvida's place. Stay there for a few days, lay low until he's sure no one will be hovering over his home for when he gets back. As soon as he's got just a few more ladder rungs to go, the ground is right there under him, Buggy is yanked and thrown off! No! So close! Buggy is now being held by someone who clearly did training of some kind, his ribs are gonna splinter. So, there wasn't just one guy here to retrieve him. Great.

Buggy is dragged from the alley and towards a black vehicle, all but tossed into the backseat. He sees through the tinted window the first guy walking out of the apartment building and to the driver's side, the second man sits in the front seat.

"Put your seatbelt on."

A withering sigh leaves him as he reluctantly obeys. Guess that's it, huh? There's no escape now, unless he wants to jump out of a moving vehicle and risk getting fatally injured. At least Buggy had enough sense to grab his phone- if he ends up being held against his will at wherever he's being taken, his friends can just track it. Closing his eyes and crossing his arms tight across his chest, hunching in over himself, he leans his head against the window.

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 1.1

So disclaimer: I took screenshots instead of photographing my screen this time, but the quality of footage is a thousand times worse so the images are still mostly shit. But anyway, here we go :)

We're going to have to keep a tally on how many times they refer to their relationship in romantic terms. Less than a minute in, Paul has used the description, “great love affair.”

And John's right on his heels with “the sexual equivalent of . . . People in love.” So there's 2 already. Oh boy.

That opening montage of John and Paul just living for the light in each other's eyes should actually be the official music video for “I wanna hold your hand.”

Also I wonder how many songs they have about hiding. Someone's got to have a list somewhere right?

I adore the absolute lack of reaction to John manhandling Paul.

And then This Look. He's in love with him, ladies and gentlemen.

I remember seeing somewhere that this footage was literally right after they'd finished “she loves you.” Which was pretty recently after Bob Wooler, which was right after Barcelona. And if you're like me and you think that song is secretly about their relationship? If Paul's just been singing “she said you hurt her so, she almost lost her mind, but now she says she knows you're not the hurting kind. She said she loves you” at you, after all of that? Of course John's acting like a fucking puppy dog.

Poor George tally number 1

Excuse me??? John wants to live in the Beatle apartment instead of with his actual literal wife until Paul decides to move in with his girlfriend? What? He's so insane. Cynthia, you're lucky Paul's a fucking social climber.

I think it's indicative of two things that Paul said “screw secret girlfriends” while John happily went along with secret wives. One: different levels of security in masculinity (John doesn't have gay eyebrows etc) and two: different relationships. Jane and Paul's relationship was a smart career move for both of them and I think, being upper-class, and having her own career, and not being a mother, Jane was in more of a position to have a say.

Every time I watch that footage of Ken Dodd asking about their parents I physically cringe. Poor poor babies. Do your research you idiot! I don't think that ever happened again. I wonder if Brian made sure of that.

Paul literally talks like such a husband here. “We've thought about it, and probably the thing that John and I will do . . .”

Obsessed with Paul shouldering himself between George and John after George's little joke shove. It's so protective and yet so subtle. Exactly the same strong posture and easy smile as when he stepped between John and that interviewer during the Jesus scandal.

Poor George tally number 2 (you can't quite tell from the pic but John is shoving him out of the way because how dare he put his suitcase by Paul's?! That's John's suitcase's spot!!)

All the Beatles were cuddly with each other. It's one of the cutest bits about them, the puppies in a basket aspect. But I think we'll need a “noticable spacing difference” tally for this rewatch, too, and here's the first.

Paul wearing John's hat for attention and it fully and completely doing the job? They're so embarrassing!

I actually love that John's imitation of his upper-class Scottish family (which Paul can't do) is actually much more convincing than his broad Liverpudlian (which Paul nails in two variations, one based off his own family) I'm obsessed with the class dynamics between them.

Poor George tally three. He shares this one with Ringo. That moment when Paul's pretending to interview them about their purple hearts and cuts them both off with, “thank you. Mi-mister Lennon,” and John and Paul proceed to completely forget the other two exist for who knows how long – certainly longer than the videographer was willing to record.

I find John sliding into Paul's raspy “tiiight yeeeah” with his very turned on “mmmMM it's been a hard” extremely suggestive. I'm sorry but I do.

It's like he thinks if he looks away for too long he's going to disappear or something. Which. Now that I said that. Yeah. That is what it is. Poor separation-issues baby.

Ringo: Paul, you wrote a beautiful song and you sing it great. John: yeah and you're SEXY! Let's not forget that, everyone.

Am I crazy to obsess over every little musical similarity in their songs? Yes. Can I help it? No. The little “oh-oh ohoho” in the If I Fell demo is exactly the same as in Imagine and (frothing and writhing) it means something I can feel it! I just have no idea what.

I also find the lyric change from “i hope that she won't cry” to “i hope that she will cry” extremely interesting. There's always a heterosexual explanation. Trust me, the straights are the Simone Biles of mental gymnastics. But while the published lyric can be read as a man bitter toward his ex girlfriend hoping to hurt her by flaunting his new relationship, the demo version is trickier. Could it be that he doesn't want to hurt his wife's feelings by letting her know he's in love with someone else? But who else could John Lennon possibly have been in love with at the time?

“Too too much in love. Woah, too too much in love with you.” My heart

[cyberpunkgyu]

Safe With You - P.SH

pairing: sunghoon x reader

genre: fluff, romance

warnings: none

inspired by latest ‘en-o’clock’ episode 67. sunghoon’s too cute 🥰😭

☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆

the carnival is full, as it is a weekend, mostly families wanting some quality time, teens wanting to have some fun and forget about the final exams they had just taken the day before, and you and sunghoon are one of those people.

it has only been two weeks since sunghoon confessed his feelings to you, and of course you agreed to going on a date with him, but once final exams ends, which is why the both of you are here right now.

sunghoon thought it was a good idea to bring you to the carnival for your first date, because he learned you loved going on rides, which he learned from your best friend winter. yes, this boy did his research. but, surprisingly enough, it’s the opposite for him. he hates rides.

obviously he wasn’t going to admit that, not when he sees how happy you are. but, this, this is definitely not right up his alley.

“that looks dangerous yn, uh, and look, the line is so long.” he tried pulling you back, hearing the screams of the people riding the pirate ship ride.

“but all the lines here are long, come on! look how fun!” you pouted, guilt tripping the boy who’s eyes soften at the sight of you. “we’ve only been going on kiddie rides.” you continued, gently tugging on his hand.

you paused, curiously tilting your head. he looked nervous, which is something you haven't seen before. “wait. are you… scared of that ride?” you questioned him, making a face as if you offended him. maybe hurting his pride a bit. “pftt. what? of course not! just… being cautious.”

“but it’s safe sunghoon, it’s a pretty popular carnival. but if you really don’t want to, fine. i can go by myself,” you decided, not wanting to force the poor boy. “just wait for me here, yeah?”

as you were about to walk up to the line with sunghoon behind, he halted you by grabbing your wrist. “uh wait, no,” he glanced up the ride and then back at you before sighing, finally agreeing. he can't just let you go there alone. “i-i’ll go.”

“only because you’re cute.” he muttered under his breath, letting you pull him towards the line. sunghoon unknowingly gulped, looking around his surroundings. there were a lot of chatter, noticing how there are also kids lining for the ride. “aren’t these kids too small for this ride? what if they slip out of there.”

rolling your eyes as you let out a laugh “that’s what those safety bars are for,” sunghoon kept shifting around, but still holding onto your hand, making your heart flutter. he is quite clingy, and you didn't mind.

the line moved fairly quickly, as the ride can hold a whole lot of people and sunghoon did not like that, at all. “oh, look, it’s getting a bit dark now. maybe we can just do this next time? we can just go and get something to eat.” he rambles his excuses, his ears turning red.

“come on, sunghoon.” you pulled the boy as the line moved forward, and soon enough both of you were now part of the next group to get on the ride.

climbing up the stairs with sunghoon following behind you, he lets go of your hand as you stepped in the ride, choosing to be in the back. you looked up at sunghoon, who seemed hesitant. “come on, it’s not that bad, i promise.” you tried reassuring him, the ride quickly getting filled.

the workers started to push down the safety bars, but sunghoon is still not convinced that this ride is safe and supposed to be fun. he is afraid, yes, but again, he isn’t going to admit that to you.

“sir, are you going?” one of the workers asked as he finished pushing the second last row’s safety bar, only needing to do theirs. “yes i will, just, hold on.” he exhaled through his mouth, ignoring the stares of the people in the ride. for a dude who looks tough and intimidating, you’d assume he’d be cool with such rides. “sir-,” “okay, okay. jeez.”

sunghoon finally steps in and sits down next to you, watching the worker push down the safety bar, “make it tight.” sunghoon comments, making the worker shake his head. you giggled softly, watching the boy nervously look around.

“here, hold onto me.” you wrapped your arm on sunghoon’s feeling his grip tightened around you. “are you okay? don’t worry, i got you.” sunghoon said, although it was probably the other way around, it’s you who got him.

the ride started slow, swinging smoothly back and forth. a bunch of “oohs” and “aahs” are heard, mostly hearing sunghoon’s voice getting louder as the ride started to swing at a much rapid pace.

both of you were now screaming along with your fellow riders, the wind blowing on your faces as well as your hair. sunghoon slowly started to enjoy the ride a little, but still holding onto you tightly. you two started laughing, enjoying your time together.

the ride quickly ends, people getting off the ride, some rushing out the exit to go to the other rides the carnival has, wanting to make the most out of it. you turned to sunghoon as you both walked out, watching as he fixed his dark hair before smoothing his clothes down.

“see! that wasn’t so bad now was it?” you grinned, taking a hold of his hand, stepping closer to him. he playfully side eyed you, intertwining your fingers together.

“not too bad.” he looks down at you, finally giving you a cute smile of his that you love.

“maybe you deserve… a prize?” you teased, feeling him press his forehead against yours, his breath fanning onto you softly. he hummed, his eyes shifting down to your lips and back to your eyes.

closing your eyes, your lips gently pressed against his, feeling him kiss you softly and slowly. he lets go of your hand before wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you up, making you tiptoe due to the height difference.

you felt yourself smile into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck. “if i get this type of prize every time i go on this ride, i will definitely do this again,”

“and definitely to hear your laugh.”

you slowly pulled away, smiling widely to the point that your cheeks started to hurt. “you don’t have to do that. you can always get kisses, it's unlimited.”

“i’ll take that offer then.”

even though he hates rides, perhaps it isn't that bad after all. as long as he's with you and gets to see you smile, and unlimited kisses? best first date ever.

[moonstruckme]

hey queen! i am humbly requesting some tasm!peter x plus sized!reader 🛐

maybe he was coming home from patrolling/being out as spidey and saw something in a window that reminded him of reader? like a knickknack or flowers or something like that? and he comes home and gives it to her and she’s all flustered and smitten 🤭

feel free to add your own spin to it or anything! i’m just in need of fluff and hugs from my boy 🫶🏻

Thanks for requesting lovely!

tasm!Peter Parker x plus size!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Peter knows he’s got other things he should be doing. He’s technically not done with the amount of time he likes to spend patrolling every day (plus there’s a serial burglar out there he should really be trying to catch), and if he’s not doing that he should be getting home to work on the research paper he’s got due tomorrow, and if he’s doing neither of those things Aunt May’s been begging him all week to dust the shelves she can’t reach. But when you open your door and he sees the look on your face, Peter knows he made the right decision neglecting all that shit. 

“Hi!” Your voice lilts through the syllable, happiness coating it like honey. 

“Hey,” Peter says back, immediately losing whatever advantage he had in the conversation. You’re surprised to see him, sure, but he’s surprised to see you like this. You’re still in your pajamas, evidently enjoying a day in, a large t-shirt and draw-string shorts that make you look all lazy and adorable and leave the delicate flesh of your thighs on display. Peter wants to bite them, but that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly. 

“Hey,” he says again, blinking to clear the haze from his brain. “I, uh, you said you like irises, right?” 

“Yeah…” There’s a hesitant sort of question in your voice. You eye the small bunch of flowers in his hand. “Are those for me?” 

Peter grins. “Who else, sweetheart?” He tacks on the endearment mostly to see you fluster. It’s a success; your arms come up to hug your torso as your cheeks dimple, smile half-suppressed. 

He passes you the flowers before he can fluster too. The plastic wrap crinkles under your careful touch, and you glance between him and them like you can’t decide which to admire first. 

“Thank you so much,” you say. “Did we…have something today?” 

“No,” he laughs, hooking his thumb in the strap of his backpack. “No, you’re good. I was just in the neighborhood, and they made me think of you.” 

Your eyes go all pretty-pleased at the comment, but you tilt your head curiously. “What do you have to do around here?” 

Ah, the question he’d hoped you’d be too happy to ask. The truth is, Peter’s almost never in this neighborhood if not for you. Spiderman gets around, but there’s not usually as much going on here as in the rest of the city. He’d spotted the flowers at a stand he’d webbed a catcaller to on the lower east side, and then came over to your end of town to bring them to you. It was only, like, a ten minute swing. Much more efficient than the subway. 

“Thrifting,” he says slowly. “I was, uh, just looking to update my closet a bit, and I know you’ve got a lot of good thrift stores around here.” 

“Nice.” You smile, taking a little sniff of your irises. Their bright color makes your already exquisite face look even lovelier, and it’s such a perfect image Peter wishes he had his camera on him. “Can I see your finds?” 

“No,” he replies. Too quickly, so he tries to look really put out to compensate for it. “No, I didn’t find anything. I’m…really picky about my clothes.” 

“Oh.” Your eyes drop to his plain gray t-shirt and jeans, but thankfully you’re too nice to say anything. 

“Right,” Peter blazes ahead, tugging on the straps of his backpack, “so I just wanted to bring you those, and I’ve actually got shelves to dust, so I’d better go…” 

“Okay, thanks for the flowers,” you say. “They’re really pretty.” 

“Yeah, I figured it must be hard being so pretty all by yourself,” he says, spinning around to walk backwards so he can see your reaction, “so I figured I’d get you a companion.” 

You press your lips together, flushing and tilting your head downwards as if to hide it. “Thanks,” you almost whisper. Peter grins hugely. 

You look up just as he’s turning back around, your focus narrowing on something behind him. 

“Hold on a second.” Peter halts opediently, and you come outside, that t-shirt fluttering prettily around your hips. “Something’s falling out of your bag…” 

He thinks to be nervous just before you pull the red and blue mask from the unzipped pocket of his backpack. 

“What’s this?” 

“That…” Peter’s nodding but he doesn’t know why. It’s some sort of automatic response, like he turns into a bobblehead under pressure. His mouth is void of saliva. “That’s a costume.” 

Your eyebrows twitch together as one side of your mouth kicks up, like you’re not sure what to make of him. “You dress up as Spider-Man?” 

The nodding turns to shaking weirdly seamlessly. “No! No, of course not, I’m an adult. It’s—it’s not for me.” You look at him expectantly. “I’m making it…for my nephew.” 

“Oh.” You blink. “I didn’t know you had a nephew.” 

“Really?” Peter hears his voice pitching higher, but he’s powerless to stop it. “I didn’t mention him? We’re pretty close—well, not that close. He lives…away. In Connecticut. But he wants a Spider-Man costume, and obviously he wants me to make it, because…I’m the guy for that stuff.” 

You nod respectfully. “You are really good at sewing,” you say, and the look you’re giving him is so sweet it nearly takes his knees out from under him. “It’s nice of you to do that for him. You’re really thoughtful, Peter.” 

You say it all soft and considerate, like it’s a secret you’re letting him in on, and Peter’s honestly worried for his heart health. He’s not sure it can take the strain of all this. 

“Yeah, well, only for people I care about,” he says just as quietly. 

You drop your gaze, smiling to yourself, and start tucking the mask back inside his backpack. “Your nephew must be a cool kid. I’d love to meet him sometime.” 

“Yeah, maybe if he comes to town sometime.” Which will be, you know, never. But hopefully by the time it gets suspicious you’ll know enough that he can come clean with you about that. 

He hears the zipper close and turns before you can move away. Peter wants desperately to wrap his arms around you, feel the softness of your body pressed up against his, but he settles for taking your hand. At the look on your face when he smiles and gives it a squeeze, you would’ve died at the alternative. 

“Thanks, sweetheart.” 

Your lips part. “No problem,” you breathe. 

He gives your hand one more press for good measure, letting his fingers drag across yours as he steps away. “See you Friday, yeah? For dinner?” 

“Yeah.” You clear your throat. “I’ll see you then.” 

Peter shoots you one last grin over his shoulder, headed down the sidewalk. “Looking forward to it.” 

[quinnysnursery]

little!johnnie being super clingy w carrington but carrington loves it bc usually HE is the one being clingy when johnnie is big :(

johnnie would be following carrington around the house and constantly tugging on his shirt or hugging him from behind to get his attention <3

idk how familiar u are with carrington but i j think their friendship is cute !!

- 🪐

[🦇] someone new | carrington & johnnie guilburt one-shot

paring : little!johnnie x babysitter!carrington x cg!jake

summary : carrington spends alone time with regressed johnnie for the first time and realizes he isn't the only clingy one in the house.

warning/extra tid-bits : minor crying

word count : 1,836

divider credit : me ^-^

a/n : first time writing carrington >.<

(sorry for any typos, i'm just a girl !)

Carrington smiled, watching as Jake tickled Johnnie relentlessly.  “Dada!” Johnnie’s high-pitched giggles were definitely a first for the brunette man. 

Both Jake and Johnnie - though Jake mainly lead the conversation- had informed Carrington of Johnnie’s coping mechanism before he moved in. 

“We totally understand if you want us to stay out of your hair.”

“It’s NOT a kink! It’s nothing remotely like that.”

Carrington wasn’t a monster. If his friends swore to him that it wasn’t a kink, then he believed them. Eventually doing some more research of his own, he came to a more cohesive understanding. Johnnie’s regression came as a way for him to relive his youth without having to be crammed on a tour bus and well, how could Carrington hate that?

He told both alternative men that no matter what, Johnnie was free to regress as he needed. He meant it too. Johnnie was here first, it felt wrong to ask him to lock himself away in his room. Plus, maybe Carrington was a little curious to see what Johnnie acted like in littlespace.

Though he never actually thought he’d see Johnnie little. Not that he was opposed to it! He just figured Johnnie was a private guy and thought little Johnnie was the same. 

But, it was currently 3:30 pm on an afternoon and Carrington had found himself downstairs, watching Jake and Johnnie play wrestling on the couch. 

“I got you!” Jake hummed, laughing as Johnnie attempted wiggling out of his tight hug. Another high-pitched squeal came from Johnnie, once again taking Carrington by surprise. 

Realizing he was starring, Carrington sheepishly averted his eyes to the floor before beginning his walk to the kitchen.

“Carri-Carrin’ton h’lp!” Johnnie giggled, trying to push Jake’s arms to make him break the hug. Jake looked at Carrington, mouthing something about “You don’t have too”…but the brunette wanted too.

“Get off of him!” Carrington said playfully, tossing himself over the couch and helping Johnnie “escape” Jake’s grasp.

Johnnie instantly hid behind Carrington, wrinkling up his nose and holding his tongue out to his caregiver. Jake laughed before looking at his phone for the time. “Oh shoot, it’s lunch time. C’mon Johns, I promised you Daves.” The caregiver said, swiftly standing up and patting his pajama pants for his keys and wallet.

“Carri’ton come too?” Johnnie asked hopefully, still behind the brunette. “Uhh…it’s up to him, hun.” Jake explained, once again giving Carrington a look that said “No pressure!”.

He was going to make himself a grilled cheese and grab a coke from the fridge but…looking at Johnnie’s wide eyes…he couldn’t help but agree.

“I like Daves.” Carrington smiled, earning an excited cheer from Johnnie as he quickly began telling Carrington all about what he liked to order.

That’s how it started.

After that day, Little Johnnie seemed to always have some excuse as to why he ended up in Carrington’s room. Carrington couldn’t have cared less, he was absolutely delighted to hear what the mentally regressed boy’s excuse was each time.

“Carri’ton?” Johnnie mumbled, peeking his head around the white wooden door. Carrington turned his PC chair, a smile plastering itself onto his face at the sight of the emo boy.

It wasn’t just Johnnie’s clothing choices that made him look younger, though the baggier hoodies and sweatpants did help. It was the expression in Johnnie’s eyes. They were wide and looked around at everything just as a toddler would. Johnnie’s eyes held a childlike wonder when regressed, and Carrington couldn’t get enough of it.

“What’s going on, bud?” The brunette asked, placing his headphones on his neck. “Um…Jakey home?” Johnnie asked, wrapping a loose string from his hoodie around his finger anxiously. Carrington frowned, realizing the little was looking for his caregiver who’d left to film a video with Tara just moments prior.

“No bud, he left to film with Tara. Remember?” Carrington asked, before beginning to look around for his phone to text Jake.

“Oh..” Johnnie mumbled, his eyes darting around Carrington’s room. “I can text him for you, how does that sound?” Carrington offered, smiling as Johnnie nodded. 

Johnnie pushed the door the rest of the way open, making his way to Carrington’s bed and instantly melting into the various fluffy blankets that Jake had bought him during their target video together. 

“Comfy, huh?” The brunette smiled before sending Jake a text to let him know that Johnnie was little and in search of him. Johnnie nodded, his messy bed head flopping up and down as he did so.

“Are you hungry? I can make you something.” Carrington offered the little, who was now shaking his head no. 

“Thirsty?” Another shake.

Jesus, what did Jake do to keep the little entertained? Carrington tried racking his brain for things he’d seen Jake do whilst caregiving but ended up drawing a blank after realizing a big part of it was making sure Johnnie ate and drank.

It then dawned on Carrington that he didn’t really know what Little Johnnie liked.

“Carri’ton, ‘tuddles?” Johnnie’s words snapped the 22 year old boy back to reality. 

“Yeah! We can cuddle.” Carrington smiled brightly as he stood up and fell onto his bed, engulfing the regressor into a bear hug.

His love language had been physical touch since he was a young boy, he’d always be seen leaning against his mom or following his sister around. This continued into adulthood, with Jake he’d constantly find himself holding onto the punk’s arm or wrapping an arm around his shoulder. He loved it. He loved being so close to other people that you could feel the connection via their touch. Johnnie though…Johnnie wasn’t opposed to Carrington’s touch, if he was then Carrington would’ve backed off instantly. Johnnie just wasn’t used to being shown love physically, resulting in his shoulders becoming stiff everytime Carrington would latch onto him. 

Little Johnnie, seemed to have a completely different perspective on physical touch. Seeing as the little was currently trying to bury himself inside of Carrington’s ribcage.

“Okay, okay. I got you.” Carrington laughed as Johnnie fussed whilst getting comfortable. Somehow, his fingers found their way to Johnnie’s hair and that seemed to do the trick to get Johnnie settled. 

The two stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, Johnnie occasionally popping his head off of Carrington’s chest to ask a question that made the brunette glad he paid some attention in school.

“Why can birds fly but we can’t?” 

“Because our bones aren’t hollow, but theirs are.”

“But why can planes fly?”

“Because plane wings are made especially for flying.”

Eventually, that ended too. Leaving Johnnie playing with the strings on Carrington’s hoodie as Carrington’s fingers danced along his hair. “When’s Jakey gonna be home? M’ miss ‘im.” Johnnie mumbled, looking up at the brunette man with his big blue eyes.

“Um…I’m not sure bud, let’s check.” Carrington said, digging around the blankets before finding his phone and clicking on Jake’s texts.

“Stuck in rush hour traffic, you guys good?” 

Carrington frowned, they were technically good but he wasn’t Johnnie’s caregiver. He knew his comfort could only last so long before the little got antsy. 

“Whas’ it say?” Johnnie asked, a slight whine in his voice. “It says he got stuck in traffic, so it’s gonna be awhile.” Carrington’s face dropped when he realized the little’s lip was quivering.

“Hey…don’t cry, bud.” Carrington cooed, clicking off his pink phone and sitting up in his bed. Johnnie did the opposite, releasing all his tears at once as he launched himself at Carrington.

The regressed boy had fully wrapped his legs around Carrington’s torso, hiding his face in the crook of Carrington’s neck. It took everything for the brunette boy to not melt in a puddle right then.

Johnnie choked out a frustrated sob, mumbling something about “wanting Jakey now”. 

“I know buddy, I know…” Carrington began soothing, rubbing Johnnie’s back gently. Jake wouldn’t be home for at least another hour and Johnnie was clearly very upset about this fact.

Racking his brain for any ideas, it dawned on Carrington that movies always calmed him down as a child.

“Hey, how about this…” Carrington began, earning the attention of Johnnie. Johnnie picked up his head, facing the brunette man who took the opportunity to wipe away Johnnie’s tears with his hoodie sleeve.

“D’ya wanna watch a movie? By the time it’s over, Jake should be home.” Carrington smiled, the promise of Jake being home by the time the movie was over was enough for Johnnie to immediately agree, tears a thing of the past.

“Okay! C’mon, let’s watch downstairs.” Carrington beamed, proud that he’d successfully navigated what could’ve been a meltdown. 

“Popcorn?” Carrington offered, digging through their pantry. Johnnie nodded, making a small “mmhm!” noise with his mouth closed. The taller man nodded, unwrapping the popcorn package and placing it in the microwave. 

Johnnie held on tightly to the back of Carrington’s hoodie, keeping the other hand near his mouth as he chewed on his thumb.

“Bud, I dunno if you should be chewing on yourself.” Carrington commented, earning a dissatisfied huff from the little. Carrington let out a small laugh, shaking his head. Johnnie wasn’t this stubborn out of littlespace.

It was interesting to see how different little Johnnie acted from big Johnnie. The way Johnnie watched Carrington’s every move, or the way Johnnie clung by his side with zero hesitation. 

As the popcorn began popping, Johnnie’s grip on Carrington’s hoodie came loose and he opted for holding onto the man’s arm. Carrington smiled, assuring him that the popcorn had to pop, hence the name.

“We watch Skellin’ton?” Johnnie asked quietly as Carrington placed the bowl of popcorn onto the coffee table, turning on the TV.

“Huh?” Carrington asked, furrowing his brow slightly. “Skellin’ton.” Johnnie spoke again, as if what he was saying was obvious. 

Skellington? Who the hell was Skellington?

“Jaaack Skellin’ton.” Johnnie whined, shaking Carrington’s arm gently. “Oh! Nightmare before Christmas?!” Carrington asked, a smile wide on his face. Johnnie nodded excitedly, “Skellin’ton!” He beamed. 

“Yes, we will watch Skellington.” Carrington agreed, a small laugh escaping his lips as he found the movie on Disney+. 

The two shared the bowl of popcorn, Carrington commenting on how cool halloween town was which sparked Johnnie to excitedly explain that apparently there were other holiday towns that the movie never showed.

Carrington pretended not to know, because Johnnie seemed delighted to tell someone other than Jake this fact.

Eventually, Carrington felt a new weight be added on his shoulder. Looking over, the brunette boy couldn’t help but smile seeing that Johnnie had fallen asleep, hand gripping Carrington’s hoodie as if Carrington would even dream of leaving. 

A few minutes later, just as the credits began to roll…a panicked Jake Webber entered the house, instantly stopping as he saw his little asleep on the couch.

“How’d it go?” Jake asked quietly, looking at the empty bowl of popcorn on the table. Looking down once more at Johnnie, Carrington answered,

“Good. It went good.”

taglist !! :

@babybatxxx @mattssturnz @mattsturniologf444 @graceslittlecorner @zivall @hrtz4alex2211 @bimbob1tch

[vm-haunts]

Me: haha I'll just make up a timeline for this crazy crossover idea.

Me, a week later: what the fuck what the fuck how did I end up with so much plot how is it still expanding oh my god stooooop.

Aaaanyways. I don't know if I'll ever got it properly written, but this monster of a plot bunny now covers several major events and I'm losing my mind...

But anyways, cliff notes version on the plot and how far it stretches:

..

College trio was involved in the dionesium (aka Lazarus water) research, and somehow they're actually the more ethical bunch. Which is saying a lot considering.

DP events happened but they encountered and got help from several DC magic users during it. Budding occultist Sam for the win. (no agit yet and no phantom planet either)

The GIW got somewhat reformed, thanks to the help of Team Phantom's JLD friends. However at some point they got new management. Now instead of destroying ghost, the new comers are interested in the correlation of ecto-contamination, liminality... And secretly, in the increased success rate of induced metagene activation in liminals. Yikes, they somehow got worse.

Again, the Fenton parents are somehow the ethical ones here, despite everything. They refused to work with the new branch of GIW, stuff escalated (don't they always), and now they're dead. And in ghost jail. At least Vlad is there with them for the heartwarming reunion.

So Team Phantom ended up faking their death and goes on the run while raiding GIW bases, and along the way they found a weird guy (Jason). Weird guy's mom showed up and. Well guess they're involved with assassin cult's power struggle now, at least they get to help a guy out.

More shenanigans later they ended up with some monks in the Himalayas, and- wait Danny what do you mean you know them? Oh yeah Plasmius's little stint with the Infi-map... Gotta love time travel.

Anyway, after Danny got scammed for long overdue property damage fees and Jason got a pair of cool swords, they met Talia again and she brings news! Totally no ulterior motives or anything :) (Sam called her out to her face and she just smiled)

Jason, considerably more chill in this au, is still unhappy about... Well. Everything in Gotham.

Cue the Red Hood stint but with much more control and less blood shed. Which ironically made RH more intimidating because he moves like a ghost(duh). Especially when Jason's main act of revenge is 'pranks', which reads as mild psychology warfare actually. But hey the bats did that to themselves, he did nothing wrong (besides being a drug lord).

Red Hood peaceful mode does however attracted some unwanted bird themed attention, the Owl's not the Robin's. And well, undead Talons sneaking around undead experts, what could go wrong?

Everything apparently. Because on top of the Rh stint, Jason is somehow also infiltrating the Court of Owls now. As his real identity Jason Todd-Wayne no less. But the real suprise is Danny running into his parent's old researches, and. Well, the poor talons need help, might as well join in with the infiltration.

Some more shenanigans later it ends in Jason and co. quietly turning the talons against their old masters, and oh boy did they overachieved the goal of getting a foot into Gotham's crime world. Must be Danny's Fenton luck.

Ol' Batsy is very very not happy about that development by the way. But he can die mad about it as far as Jason is concerned.

...

The end. Of part one.

Stay tuned for part two, where we cross AGIT with crisis.

And massive thanks to @taddy-cat, a large part of this is inspired by the lovely discussion with you!