#and that would make more sense cause she’s like half my size lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jackrrabbit · 4 years ago

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🤍 Haikyuu WIP excerpts

preview post for hq because recently i showed sara a list of my works in progress and she laughed at me and then made a dn joke like this is 2015 or something. we got:

🤍 communal property /// ushijima x f!reader x tendou 🤍 sunshower /// atsumu x f!reader x osamu 🤍 corporate ethics /// kuroo x f!reader

anyway these are all terrible first drafts and i'm not sorry. however i am very very into these pieces and if you're interested in seeing them finished, you should tell me fr fr

🤍 communal property /// Ushijima x f!Reader x Tendou

Summary: Tendou shares everything with Ushijima—his food, his dorm room, even the AVs he likes. Why not his girlfriend, too?

Tags/warnings: poly relationship in progress (only you and Tendou are dating at this point), mild suggestiveness ??, s*ze k*nk

Status: 10k words written (holy fuck lol) out of ~11k total? this bitch better get finished is2g

After the match, your voice is hoarse from screaming but you still manage to yell congratulations for your boyfriend when you meet him and Ushijima outside the locker room in the stadium. You’re pumped on the adrenaline of the game, so you don’t even protest like you usually would when Tendou picks you up in the middle of your hug and lifts you off the ground effortlessly. “How was I? Awesome, right? I told you we would beat them!”

“You did, you so did—“ Even though your throat hurts, you can’t help gushing about every rally, every soul-crushing block, every impossible spike. “—and then the guy on the left thought he was clear to shoot it but you just—“ You throw your arms in the air and mime hitting the ball down like a blocker. “Wha-bam!—and the look on his face! I thought he was going to punch you!”

Tendou laughs and lays a sloppy kiss on your cheek, just as thrilled as you are by the win. “You really liked it that much? I thought you weren’t into sports.”

“I loved it! You were so cool! I can’t believe I’m dating someone so cool!” You wrap your legs around his back and hug his face close to yours, reveling in the fact that this weirdo belongs to you wholly and entirely, that you get to have him to yourself (well, other than his roommate). “And I’m not into sports, I’m into you.”

Tendou smiles in a way that makes the sides of his eyes crinkle up and little red patches bloom over his cheeks, a look that says, I like you so much (Y/N), I like you I like you I like you, except he’s probably trying not to be mushy like that since Ushijima is standing off to the side.

You feel a little bad for ignoring him (no one likes being the third wheel, even if he never shows signs of caring) so when Tendou sets you down you turn to Ushijima. “And you! Holy shit, Tendou said you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good. The ball when you hit it was super loud—honestly, how are your hands okay? If I hit it that hard I’d probably break something.”

“My hands are fine…this is normal for me.”

But just because you’ve got them here in front of you and you’re still pumped from the exhilaration of the win, you can’t help grabbing Ushijima’s hand and flipping it palm-up to inspect. True to his word, there’s no redness, just the calluses he’s built up on his long fingers. “Wow.”

“You don’t need to worry about Wakatoshi,” Tendou tells you, grinning and then making a face. “He’s a monster, he can handle it.”

“No kidding. You’re both monsters.” You put the base of your palm up against Ushijima’s to gauge the size of his hand against yours, and without prompting Tendou grabs your other hand to press against his own. Tendou’s fingers are a bit longer, but Ushijima’s are…thicker, more solid. Your hands look like a little kid’s in comparison. “Can I be honest? Half the time I was thinking I actually feel bad for the other team. If I had to take on both of you at the same time, I’d probably cry.”

You’re (mostly) joking, but it’s still a complete shock when you see the side of Ushijima’s mouth curl up a tiny bit. You’ve known each other for months at this point, but you’ve never seen him smile until now. Half of you is wondering if this is some kind of optical illusion caused by the atmosphere and the dim light of the stadium cutting through the evening, but the other half of you enjoys it. You made Ushijima smile. You did that.

“Don’t sell yourself short, (Y/N).” Ushijima says, tipping his head to the side.

“Yeah!” Tendou chimes in, resting his chin on top of your head and folding his arms around your neck from his place behind you. “I’m sure you could take both of us. Right, Wakatoshi?”

So that’s probably a sign.

🤍 sunshower /// Atsumu x f!Reader x Osamu

Summary: [Kitsune AU] You find an old Ō-Inari shrine in the woods that may not be as abandoned as it looks.

Tags/warnings: Shinto religion, this preview is biased toward tsumu oops, yearning/soft vibes

Status: 3.9k words written out of 5–6k? total

Atsumu was the one who found you.

That’s how he likes to talk about it, that he found you, like you’d still be wandering around lost in the woods if it weren’t for him. Osamu thinks you would have found your way back home eventually but Atsumu likes it better this way, this framing that makes it seem like they saved you.

It’s hard for him to tell time linearly the way humans do but you mention once that you’ve known them for a year and that seems to fit. It’s spring now, almost barely tipping into summer, and it was spring when Atsumu found you. He remembers because of the way it was raining: light and tender, a summer rain early in the season, each little drop tapping off a leaf and then rolling into the forest bed to be eaten up by the grass and the soil.

Atsumu likes the rain, likes the sweet earthy smell it makes and the way the plants look so lush and green and alive, like they’d bleed if he sunk his teeth into them. He was out in the woods because of the rain ('Samu was in the shrine, as usual, attempting to set buckets under the millions of holes in the roof so the rainwater wouldn’t pool and rot through the wood underneath). But Atsumu was half asleep in a tree when he heard you crashing through the undergrowth, tripping over ferns and snapping every twig in your path (thought ya might be a bear, he tells you later, that’s how loud ya were) but he wouldn’t really have woken up if he hadn’t heard you singing.

(The odd thing is, you weren’t actually singing. You remember that day as vividly as they do: the warm, humid air making your skin feel sticky under your yellow raincoat; the tiny raindrops filtering through the canopy and kissing your cheeks; the ink feathering out on the damp xerox of the old map you found in your great-aunt’s attic so you could barely make out the “X” that was supposed to mark the location of the lost Inari shrine… You were cursing how stupid you’d been to go on a wild goose chase into the mountains with no cell service and no marked trail to look for a shrine that no one had seen in decades. You definitely weren’t singing.)

But Atsumu remembers it differently. No matter how many times you explain that you were just talking to yourself, when he replays the sound of your voice back then (reaching and lilting and falling, the way the birds talk to each other in the early morning, except the music of it was poured into syllables and words), it sounds like you’re singing. He wasn’t sure at first, hadn’t heard a voice that wasn’t Osamu’s in so many years that he gets tired counting them, but then he saw you push into view from between two bushes and he thought, a human!

A girl, too—it was hard to say at first because you were wearing that weird, slick jacket of yours, so bright yellow it was like an oversized flower blooming out of the grass, but then you tilted your head up to feel the rain on your face and the hood fell down and he knew. Not just a human, a girl! Atsumu wanted to yell for Osamu, make him come and confirm that there was a person wandering around not a mile from the shrine. A real person! Singing and smiling and wiping the rain off her cheeks (does that mean you like the rain, just like he does? did you come out to feel it too?) But he also wanted to surprise Osamu so he hid his tails and his ears and came down from the tree and asked if you had lost your way in the forest, since you were so far from any path…

When you think back on this yourself you’re amazed that you just went with him: a strange boy (man?) wearing a fox mask and traditional Shinto priest robes, which were somehow pristine white and red despite him having appeared from nowhere in the middle of a dense forest, who told you he had no idea what direction the village was but he could take you to the Inari shrine you’d been searching for…well. Maybe you were too surprised to be wary, or maybe you were just exhausted and lost. But you like to think you had a sense of it even then, the irrational belief that the boy in the woods was not just a boy in the woods.

Atsumu thinks you knew. Humans always understand, even when they try not to… He remembers, he took your hand that day in the forest and you saw that the claws on his fingers were too long to be human, and you said nothing because on some level you already felt it. Your skin was cool then, smooth and damp from the rain; he wanted to stop, run his hands up your arms, touch the places on your face where your mouth had been turned up at the corners and press his fingers into your cheeks.

🤍 corporate ethics /// Kuroo x f!Reader

Summary: [Office AU] The new junior marketing associate just happens to be Kuroo’s favorite camgirl, and he’s having trouble keeping his hands to himself.

Tags/Warnings: boss/employee, businessman!Kuroo as a reformed player, camgirl reader, this excerpt has a lil bit of 18+ content 👀

Status: 1.2k words written out of 4k? words total

Kuroo doesn’t watch porn.

It’s not, like, a moral principle or something. He has nothing against pornography. As far as he knows, it’s perfectly normal for single men. He just doesn’t like it…unless it’s you.

When he was in school it was easy. Being a teenager meant being so flooded with hormones that a warm breeze could get him up, and the adrenaline rush of winning a game was better than any big-titted porn actress faking moans into a shit-quality boom mic. Sure, he watched porn back then (what teenage boy didn’t?), but it was more out of curiosity than necessity. It was all kind of a mystery at that point, the way it can only be when you’re a clueless virgin and you and all your friends are too busy practicing for the next game to get girls.

Somehow Bokuto was the first one in their friend group to lose his virginity, and the memory of the dumbass self-consciously describing the experience has been lodged in Kuroo’s brain for the 10+ years since. “It was…I don’t know. She smelled good. You know how girls always smell good?” Bokuto’s hands twitched and his face was pink. “It’s just really…soft.”

Soft was right, Kuroo would reflect when he got laid for the first time a few months later. Soft, warm, wet. Sex was awkward at first, but before he knew it it was more natural than breathing.

It didn’t change much after high school, either. He didn’t get into volleyball for the groupies, but they didn’t hurt. There were girls when he played for his college team, more girls when he joined a business frat, so many girls he couldn’t keep track…they blurred together after a while. It didn’t take effort. You don’t need game when you’re 6’2 and you’re in the gym 40 hours a week, and you definitely don’t need porn.

So he never got into it. Now that he’s promoting volleyball instead of playing, things are more complicated. Kuroo’s never been the type who expects things to fall in his lap, but there are so many rules when it comes to dating in the real world. Good morning texts, anniversaries, flowers, parents. It’s exhausting. One time—seriously, just one time—Kuroo misses his girlfriend’s birthday to go watch a Jackals game, and the next time he sees her she throws her drink on him in public and keys his car. After that, Kuroo decides that until he’s ready to settle down there will be no more girlfriends. Which means no more reliable sex. Which means resorting to porn.

Which means you.

You, batting your eyelashes at the camera and biting the side of your lip. You, purring and mewing like a kitten. You, lying back on your pretty pink bedsheets in your pretty pink lingerie, sliding your hands between your legs. It takes Kuroo a full month to decide to pay for access to your website (Kenma’s unsolicited recommendation) but it takes less than five minutes for him to upgrade access to premium. You look like a wet dream—no, you look like the centerfold of every dirty magazine Kuroo managed to get his hands on when he was younger. Pristine and alluring and so deliciously out of reach.

And you make it so simple. No delicate emotional games with rules Kuroo never bothered to learn. No pretending to care how your day was. You untie the little bows on the side of your panties and lick your fingers and Kuroo just has to take his dick out and watch you. Getting off hasn’t been this easy for him since college. You’re a camgirl, you exist on his computer screen, and that’s how he likes it.

Which makes it a lot more awkward when Kuroo finds out that the only woman he’s gotten off to in the past…year, maybe?…somehow just got hired in JVA’s sports promotion department as his junior associate.

Your prim work blouse is buttoned up to the collar and your makeup is different, but he knows it’s you. You have to tell him your name twice because he’s too stunned to respond the first time, and even then he can’t summon up more of a response than a curt nod because his mouth tastes like dirt.

You smile a little awkwardly at his cool reception, and the hand you’d extended out to shake swings back down to your side. “Um, the guy at HR said he sent up my info yesterday…I’ll be working directly underneath you?”

Directly underneath me. Kuroo is taking a sip of his coffee when you say this. He doesn’t spit it out, but it’s close.

#haikyuu x reader #ushijima x reader #tendou x reader #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #kuroo x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #tendou satori x reader #atsumu miya x reader #osamu miya x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu imagines

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lizzy-williams · 4 years ago

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𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭

��Warnings: Alpha/Omega dynamic, SMUTTTT, neediness, language, mature themes, dubcon?

🐺Masterlist

🐺Summary: Every Omega knows that going into heat is rough, especially when unclaimed. All eyes are on you. So when it hits you in the middle of a coffee shop with your friends, a particular alpha is very willing to help.

🐺Theme (All I Need by Radiohead)

🐺A/N: Lol we gonna get dirtttyyyy. By the way, you’re small in his, like body proportion wise, like 5′4 small so there’s that. I know people want the ‘independent strong hardheaded alpha female’, but in this one ur compliant, sorry if ya don’t like it. There will most likely be a part 2 :)

“Y’know, I dunno how you drink that stuff,” Anna-Lynn said from across the table, making [ y / n ] roll her eyes and look up.

“You’re just jealous cause your tastebuds are weak,” she retorted, taking a teasingly long sip of her dark black coffee.

It was nice having a day out like this. Especially when everyone seemed so busy with preparing for the spookiest holiday of the year. Paper bats and small pumpkins littered the store-fronts of London, the summer weather fading with the light chilly breezes autumn seemingly brought.

The calm warm light streamed through the window of the coffee shop the three young women were in, the dusk just hitting them. The tree leaves complimented the light as it covered the area in a soft blanket of pink and orange hues.

“So, um,” [ y / n ]’s other friend, Elizabeth, began to speak, clearing her throat and shooting a daring look at Anna-Lynn, “Have you thought about Ethan at all?”

Ah, yes, Ethan. He was Elizabeth’s younger cousin, just then turning 19, a simple beta with no claimed mate.

[ y / n ] shook her head, and to this, the two girls let out a defeated huff, “You need to chose someone,” Anna-Lynn’s voice was clipped as she huffed, but it had a hint of concern. Worry even.

And of course there was a stipulation to one of [ y / n ]’s favorite seasons. Because for her kind, not only was it autumn, but it was also mating season. A dangerous time for any omega unclaimed. If you were unclaimed when the time came around, you were easy pray, and other alphas and betas could smell you much much easier.

You would become a target. Even more so if you were in heat.

“I’m not worried about it.” [ y / n ] sighed, nonchalantly, taking a large gulp of her drink before setting it back down. But deep down she truly was.

“We just don’t want you to become like one of those other omegas... you know, getting claimed by someone on the street during their heat... someone they don’t love at all and being forced to have pups, it’s just barbaric.” Elizabeth glanced down at her dwindling hands.

“I understand that. But I’ve had no issues with this before. I’ll just... lock myself up in my room with a vibrator and some porn. That’s worked before,”

“Bullshit, you were a grump for like a month because you had built up aggression. Ethan’s a good guy. You should really consider it.”

Yes, Ethan was nice. But when it came to [ y / n ]... she just felt as if they weren’t meant for each other. And there was no way that she would consider having pups with him and-

Speak of the mother fucking devil-

It was as if she was hit with a million bricks at once, her body becoming hot, a powerful wave of uncomfortable warmth crashing through her body like a tidal wave, her mouth clamping shut tightly. Her breath hitched, her thighs tightening around nothing, her legs shaking as she felt herself feel as if she were going to throw up. The moisture between her thighs was uncomfortable as she felt her panties stick to her mound.

How could she be so careless? Now she was in heat in public and she knew that nearby alphas and betas had already caught onto the scent, most likely heading their way. She knew it was roughly the time she would go into heat. And it was hell on earth right now, knowing that now that the sun was just now taking it’s last breaths over the tall buildings, the night heightening her kind’s senses acutely.

Her friends caught on almost immediately, knowing the mannerisms of the heavy breathing and the quivering lips. Her eyes were wide as she bit down on her bottom lip harshly, trying her best to keep her whimpers and whines in the back of her throat.

Thoughts raced through the young woman’s mind. Thoughts of her being taken in the most delicious ways possible by any man that just so happened to look her way. And her friends could tell that there were already at least a few alphas coming in hot, the sudden howling through the now darkened air making the 2 other girls’ senses hyperactive.

What was ironic was that there was a conversation going on between two baristas behind the counter, “The dogs are at it again, they’ve been a lot noisier than usual.”

“We need to get her home, right now.” Anna-Lynn commanded, Elizabeth giving a chaste nod before flipping through her phone as a poor, squirming, [ y / n ] sat right across from them, panting in her intense discomfort.

She shut her eyes tightly, desperately trying to ignore the ache in her core. She wanted, no, needed to be filled up. To be claimed. But the thoughts only drove her down deeper, desperation seemingly seeping out of every pore.

As soon as she was called an Uber, it was an agonizing amount of time before it finally came to a stop, the driver flashing concerned looks at the poor squirming girl in her back seat. Throughout the whole ride, it took everything for [ y / n ] not to touch herself, and all she could do was shift her thighs together, and thankfully, (soon enough), the car came to a stop.

[ y / n ] let out a strangled ‘thank you’ to the driver before getting out, and after the woman drove off, she found herself stumbling into an alleyway. Her whole body was on fire and she needed release, any release.

Her back violently hit the brick wall of a darkened alleyway, her loud and labored breaths echoing through the seemingly empty face. She needed tension. At least a little bit.

As if her legs weren’t her own, [ y / n ] spread her legs only a small amount, just enough to slip her hand under her pants and softly drifting her fingertips over her clothed clit.

A smooth and controlled rubs soon turned into harsh and fast circles, her needful thoughts forcing her mind to tune out the howling that was getting closer and closer to her. It wasn’t until a low and terrifying growl resonated through the hollow space, making her stop in her tracks, yanking her hand out of its position, doing her best to stand up and steady herself.

But it was far too late, because by the time she finally started bolting towards the opening in the cold alleyway, her body was caught and thrown against the frigid brick, a pitiful yelp leaving her lips, unleashed tears forming in her eyes.

“You smell fucking delicious,” a dark voice spoke, no doubt an alpha, and [ y / n ] wouldn’t dare look up and meet his eyes.

“P-Please, I c-can’t-”

[ y / n ] didn’t even know why she was saying please, for there were so many reasons she could be saying it.

Please don’t.

Please help the pain.

Please touch me.

Please don’t touch me.

Please.

But the young woman’s thoughts were cut short by a violent tug to her hair, forcing her gaze on the person in from of her. He had bright red hair, freckles apparent, even in the dull light of the closed off space. He wore a jet black hoodie, and that was all that [ y / n ] bothered to take in.

“You’re a pretty one...” his words rattled through her mind, muffled by the sharp ringing in her heat from the sudden contact to the wall only moments earlier, “Glad I claimed you before anyone else could,” he paused to chuckle to himself, “Would hate to touch damaged goods.”

[ y / n ] whimpered and almost recoiled away, but she knew better. This alpha seemed ill-tempered, and she didn’t want to find out what would happen if she dared to disobey.

He gave a rough tug to her hair, standing her up, and immediately started to kiss her neck in hopes of warming her up a little bit more, not that she needed it, but nonetheless, his lips continued their assault on the young woman’s neck, whimpers and whines escaping her lips.

“Just one little thing, pretty girl, you’re unclaimed, I can smell it on you.” he spoke before leaving a long, sinful lick up her throat, “I’m going to bite this pretty little neck and make sure that nobody else is going to touch what’s mine.”

The girl’s body shivered violently. He was talking about a claim mark. If that happened, she could never escape him, it was a tracking device. Where ever she decided to go, he would know exactly where she was.

“Please, don’t, I-”

But a violent growl made her blood run cold and her words pause half-way up her throat. But it wasn’t from her captor. His head was already snapped towards the source of the sound, which was at the opening of the alleyway, the minimal light caused by the streetlight exposing a clothed figure with its hands in its pockets. They weren’t tall but they weren’t short, but their stature was confident.

Great. Another alpha.

“Drop her.” the voice spoke, straight to the point and commanding.

“Fuck off, she’s mine, I got to her first.” the ginger male snapped, his eyes now a vibrant scorching gold, shining in the darkness.

“Drop the fucking girl or I’ll rip you’re fucking head off.” this time it was a vicious growl, strong and unwavering that sent goosebumps down [ y / n ]’s spine.

“That a challenge, pint-size?” the ginger taunted, referring to the other alpha who only stood at a good 5′8, while he stood at a large 6′1, slamming the girl onto the ground making her yelp out in pain.

Finally, the young alpha stepped into some form of light, making his face visible, and the ginger’s expression of defense faded into a face of fear and regret, the eyes that once glowed yellow dying down to it’s original color.

“T-Tom, Jesus, man, excuse me, I didn’t-”

The alpha, apparently named Tom, harshly grabbed the ginger’s shirt, pulling him in and looking up at him with deadly eyes, “Leave.”

And just like that, he was gone, and hopefully never going to be seen again.

Tom’s expression turned soft when he saw the poor writhing omega in a mound on the hard concrete of the ground, small whimpers of discomfort making his chest clench.

“You live here?” he questioned, motioning to the building she was now leaned against.

All she could to was let out a whine of confirmation, nodding her head slowly as she clamped her thighs together as tightly as possible.

“Come on then, can’t have you out in the open, there’s already talk, let’s get you inside,” he said, kindness and understanding in his tone, holding out a hand to [ y / n ], who in turn took it almost immediately.

It took her a second to walk, her knees weak, not to mention it was hard not to notice Tom’s muscles, and his face. God, he was truly attractive.

She let her mind wonder as they began to walk, his arm firmly around her waist, trying to keep her steady. She wondered what it would look like when he came, filling her up to the brim, making her full, a thin blanket of sweat covering his body, his eyes glowing, hungry, and she let out a whimper at it.

“You’re staring.” Tom smirked as they stepped into the elevator of the complex.

“S-Sorry,” she muttered, trying to shake the embarrassingly dirty thoughts from her mind as she continued to try and focus on just getting to her apartment.

The sooner she got there, the sooner she had her vibrator, the sooner she had release. She was convinced, at least, that that would solve her problems, at least temporarily.

She led him to her apartment, still holding onto him for dear life as her core throbbed with need and want. When the door unlocked with a small click, she turned the doorknob, almost collapsing through the doorway.

“Do you need any help?”

This could have meant many things. But of course, [ y / n ] was oblivious in her response.

“N-No, I think I can manage to put myself to bed.”

Tom gave a small chuckle as he sat her down on the couch, sitting next to her as she slouched back, “No, I mean I can help with your problem... that is, if you want me to,”

[ y / n ]’s mind was clouded in a haze of neediness, so with no hesitation, she whimpered a small yes, before immediately unbuttoning her jeans and slipping them down a little bit to eagerly.

She knew this was happening to quick, almost irrationally quick, but the need in her pounding cunt was much more important to her at the moment than her petty morals and reason.

“Are you sure?” he looked at her with sincerity, watching as she shifted out of her pants and took his hand, placing it on her covered mound.

“Please, just touch me, Tom,”

Hearing his name on her lips was almost enough to make him lose his control and say ‘fuck it’, but he figured that if her were to do this, he might as well try to do this right.

“Don’t have to tell me twice, darling,” he muttered, easily finding her sensitive bud, even through the material of her panties.

She let out a soft and breathy moan, taking her hand of his own and moving it to his bicep, squeezing, as if it were anchoring her down to Earth, because she had never been touched like this, especially by someone else.

As if Tom had read her mind, he looked up at her, drinking in her reactions before speaking, “Are you a virgin?”

She nodded her head, his pace never faltering.

“I’ve been waiting- ugnh - for the right person... I trust you,” she managed to get out between moans.

“You barely know me,”

“But I want to. There’s - ah, fuck - something about you. I l-like you,” she admitted, the filter between her mouth and her brain nonexistent as she felt nothing but pleasure and a release from the uncomfortable pressure she was feeling only moments before.

“Fuck,” to Tom, it was nice to hear that somebody needed him, trusted him, especially with something like this, so sacred and meaningful. She was giving him the gift that could only be given once, and he was happy to receive.

After a few moments of him rubbing her in all the right ways, he hesitantly pulled his hand away from her, hating the noise of protest that she released.

“Come on, princess, let’s take this to you're bedroom, yeah?”

[ y / n ] was compliant to his suggestion, standing up best she could without Tom’s help, but soon leaning on him as she directed him to her bedroom door.

The door was busted open, and she was thrown onto the bed, and as soon as she hit the mattress, she stripped off everything else, leaving her completely nude, and her actions inspired Tom to do the same.

He quickly got on top of her, grinding the length of his cock against her soaking wet folds, making him growl.

“Fuck, darling, I’m not even inside you yet and you feel heavenly-” he hissed, the little omega nodding in response.

“Alpha, please, I need you inside me, I want you to fill me,” she desperately pleaded.

Tom let out a feral snarl at the use of the word ‘alpha’, surprised it had so much of an effect on him being used like this. It was so fucking hot. She had him wrapped so tightly around her pinky and didn’t even know it.

“Anything for you, darling,” he muttered, lining himself up and ever so slowly easing himself inside his new mate, a pained whimper escaping her, his cock seemingly splitting her in half.

Tom finally remembered that she was a virgin. And that made him even harder inside her. He waited for him, for her mate, while he was out fucking every omega that crossed him. But with her, she wasn’t just an omega. And he wanted to prove it to her.

He took his time, almost cockwarming, staying still inside of her as her body naturally adjusted to his size, feeling so close to each other, it was enough for the two of them to almost fall in love right then and there. Tom finally took in how perfect she was to him. Someone he knew he wanted to keep around in the long run. Someone he knew he wanted to protect, even when she didn’t need protection.

[ y / n ] scratched up his back, signaling that she was ready, and confident that he could move with little to no discomfort from her.

The alpha started to move his hips, her tight cunt making his eyes roll back in his skull as he dropped his head into the crook of her neck, leaving soft and reassuring kisses to her neck as she made the most delectable noises, making him addicted, almost like his own brand of opioid.

“So fucking tight, princess, you feel like fucking paradise,” he praised as he drank up the omega’s reactions as she experienced her first time with him.

She’s like this for me and only me.

Her face was scrunched adorably in pleasure, her eyes shut tight as she felt the moment, his skin under her finger tips, the burning that was set in her core easing as she finally had pleasurable relief. Like getting a refreshing drink on a particularly hot day.

Tom couldn’t help himself, and as if his body wasn’t his own, primal instinct took over as he began to make his strides harder and quicker, making the most pathetically cute noises release from her mouth.

“You like that, darling?” he panted licking and sucking her neck, making one of her tiny hands weaving itself though his chestnut curls, “Why did I bother asking, of course you do. You love it when your alpha fucks you.”

All she could do was nod her head as she felt a coil inside her tighten. Tom felt his cock inflate as he continued to drive into her, pounding her into the mattress as he growled praises into her neck, her moans and whimpers never stopping.

Soon the praise turned into a single word, falling out of his mouth like a prayer, even though what they were doing was the farthest thing from holy.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

The omega could take it anymore, whimpering out, “P-Please, I... want you to b-bite me. Please, I need you to claim me,” she begged, which made his assault on her cunt falter slightly, slowing down to a calm and intimate pace.

He knew what that meant. When an alpha bites an omega, she’s claimed. It means that nobody can touch her. Almost like an unbroken bond between two of their kind, and it meant a lot.

And though they had just met only a half an hour prior, he knew that she was special, and he knew that this was who he was meant to be with, and his heart swelled at the thought of getting to know her inside and out. A true connection.

“You want me to claim you, huh?” he paused his movements, [ y / n ] nodding frantically, wanting more than anything, “I’m not going to go easy on you. I want you to feel nothing but you inside me while I claim you, nothing but rapture as I claim you as mine.”

[ y / n ] nodded once again, to while Tom protested, “Words, darling,”

“Yes, alpha, I understand, I- OH FUCK-,” she yelled out. And she thought he was going hard before, but that was nothing compared to the pleasure she was now presented with, his cock properly railing into her as he left a long and sinful lick up her neck before taking a bite, his eyes glowing a bright fluorescent gold as she let out one of the most pornographic moans she had ever heard.

The copper taste in his mouth tasted like candy, and home, the sweet substance covering his lips as he finally pulled back, knowing that she was close.

And close she was. She was so close to release she could almost taste it, and god did it taste good. Without warning, the coil inside her snapped, making her vision cloud, her thoughts unable to collect themselves as her vision clouded, and she swore she blacked out for a second.

She was so overcome with pleasure, she didn’t notice that he had cum himself, the sensation of him pulling out and his cum spill out of her enough to get her riled up enough. But if what just happened didn’t vanquish the heat she was experiencing before, God only knew what would.

Tom stepped back, taking in the sight of his new mate, completely fucked out and covered with marks, his cum dripping out of her like a faucet. He wished for this image to be branded into his mind so he could see it every time he closed his eyes.

“Absolutely stunning.” he praised, his hands now running up and down her thighs.

[ y / n ] was finally Tom’s, inside and out, and Tom couldn’t be more proud.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, love, yeah?”

The morning was soft and filled with nothing but admiration to each other, the two staying in bed most of the morning until they finally went to the omega’s kitchen to make breakfast/lunch.

[ y / n ] was cooking the bacon and eggs when she suddenly felt arms wrap around her from behind, a chin resting on her shoulder.

“How’re you holding up?” he questioned, and it make [ y / n ] blush at how considerate she was about her state, his fingertips dragging lightly over the violent-looking bite mark on her neck.

“I’m absolutely perfect,” she smiled, “Feels nice to belong to someone.”

“You know what? I was thinking the exact same thing.”

And for once, the two of them were truly excited for the future.

#werewolf au #alpha #omega #alpha!tom #tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #marvel x reader

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palbabor-writes · 4 years ago

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Hellooo queen I hope you had/will have a great day. This is actually my first time requesting something so I’m very sorry if I do something wrong 🥺🥺... can you maybe write some fluff (OR NSFW I DONT MIND... just love him way too much damn) stuff for dabi?? I don't know if you only take requests with exact instructions or if this request is enough... if you need something more precise i will try to come up with something! Thank you very much!!

Hello, love! You did it perfectly & thank you so much for asking! I can be a bit of a lurker on things, so I totally get how much courage it takes to do one of these.

You did amazing & I love, love this question. I love it so much that I went ahead and took an old outline of mine & made it into a full blown fic for you!

Now, in honor of all the craziness swirling around our favorite flame user, Imma post it a little earlier then I’d planned! So, thank you for the ask & I hope to talk to you again ( ＾◡＾)っ ♡

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7496

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW 18+ only, mentions of blood and gore, heat play, dick piercings, adult language and freaking Dabi. That alone should warn you.

Thermós θερμός ther·mos adjective m (feminine θερμή, neuter θερμόν); warm, hot, boiling, glowing

It’s sweltering; the fervor of summer sticky, humid, and oppressive. Japan is in the throes of August, and this heatwave is not letting up. Even at night, it’s impossible for Dabi to get comfortable. He’s been lying, half naked, draped across his narrow twin mattress for the last few hours, sweating.

His quirk isn’t helping matters.

He’s been trying to recruit new members. Every day, he sets out, pounding the pavement, sifting through the bits and pieces of trash that he runs into. It��s a pity. If those scrubs weren’t so fucking pathetic, he might not be in this predicament. But they are, and now he’s having to suffer the consequences of his temper.

His phone gleams on his dilapidated side table, a text message chiming across the screen as it flashes a speck of brightness into the darkened room. Groaning, he leans over and snatches it up, his hands slick as he clutches the encased plastic.

It’s Toga.

As a rule, he tries to avoid her. He hates her chatter. It’s always some unending nonsense about those UA kids, about Stain, or about fucking blood. It’s always blood with her. Give her five minutes, and she’ll work it into her conversation somehow, even if it’s just blurting it out, a blush staining her cheeks.

Fucking freak.

[ Blondie: 12:34 am ]

- found smth 4 u. (Y/N) has a place. Keeps it @ like 60 degrees… lol

Well, disgusting as Toga is, she has her uses; he thinks as he reads her text.

He’d asked her, a few days before, if she knew a place where he could crash. Somewhere that had some goddamn air conditioning. The hideout’s unit is on the fritz again, not that it had ever worked all that well.

Hmm, well this is something, at least.

Dabi’s isn’t sure what to think about Toga’s little ‘find’. You were a newer recruit, someone that Compress had brought in.

He hadn’t paid much attention to you. You didn’t stay at the base and were only around if there was a specific mission, or a task, that Shigaraki set for you. He isn’t even sure what your quirk is. You seemed easy-going, neutral, but he doubted you’d extend that easy-going demeanor to him camping out at your place for the A/C.

Chucking his phone back on the side table, Dabi flops to his side and tries to drift off, hoping his exhaustion will let him ignore the suffocating heat he’s drowning in.

Fuck.

He’d done it again. It was hard to resist the urge when these people spouted such vague fucking bullshit at him. No one, not fucking one of them, could live up to his cause. And if they couldn’t meet that standard? Well, they were better off as ash, melting into blackened pools as the asphalt greedily soaked their blood into its cracked depths.

There is a heat advisory today.

He’d heard the news as he scarfed down a quick breakfast at the hideout’s bar. He wouldn’t be out for that long, he reasoned. Besides, maybe today he’d find someone good.

Wishful thinking on his part.

His skin feels oppressive and his staples and piercings are scalding, the metal hissing and steaming as he tries to dampen his quirk. It’s harder to regulate his temperature on hot days. He shouldn’t be out here, he thinks, snarling as he pats out a few rogue flames that catch on his dark jacket. Even lifting his arm to perform that simple task makes him grunt, hissing out a mantra of curses.

Shit, fuck, goddamn it fucking all.

He looks bitterly up at the sun and debates his next move.

He could retreat to the bar, but that doesn’t solve his problem. No, the viscous heat that radiated along those upper floors would just make his skin feel worse. Hell, it might even result in more mottling, his burns stretching farther along his arms and chest. He’s not going back to the bar.

Where the fuck even is he?

He peers down the alley toward the street. It’s not too busy; just after noon, so most of the foot traffic from the morning has died down. He yanks his hood up, ignoring the ache of his legs as he stalks toward the street corner.

Carefully, he pokes out, his eyes tracing over the crosswalk, looking for the street signs. Ah. He’s close to that address, your address, that Toga sent him.

Slipping his hands into his pockets, he saunters along the pavement, careful to keep his head down.

You were out of town.

He’d picked up that tidbit from Compress this morning. The masked man had been lamenting that you might be away for a few days, possibly weeks. Something about being on a fact finding task for that shadowy voice that talked with Shigaraki from his tv.

He didn’t care, still doesn’t. All he knows is that you supposedly keep your place cold, and that’s all the encouragement he needs.

You’ve got a nice apartment.

It’s decorated in pleasing whites, yellows, reds and greens, with clean lines and modern touches. It’s kinda like you, he considers as he shrugs his coat off and breathes in that amazing waft of cold A/C. You’ve been useful to have in the League; efficient and no nonsense about the missions you're given and you can fit in with the outside world. You’d give even Toga a run for her money when it comes to espionage, he’s heard others say about you.

Dabi tosses a distasteful glare at your narrow couch and pads toward your bedroom, shouldering the door open and stepping into the dark sanctuary.

Your bed looks nice. It’s a good size too.

Lifting his boots from his feet and stripping down to his boxers, he presses into your clean sheets; shivering as the chilly air hits his overheated skin, cooling and dampening that oppressive sense of heat. He’s out in seconds, his body relaxing, slackening as he falls into the void of his dreams.

Yeah, now that he’s had this, there’s no way he’s staying at that hideout of the League’s unless he has to.

You’re gone for the better part of a week.

He’s started asking Compress about you. At first, the older man had given him an impassive stare. Since when did Dabi even know your name?

He’s asking because he needs to talk with you about… uh… supplies?

This, apparently, is the correct thing to say, because Compress nods his head sagely and elaborates on your timetable. You’re collecting things for Kurogiri and you’ll be gone for another few days.

Good, Dabi thinks, slinking into your apartment again, lowering the window behind him. He’s careful to leave things as he found them, his entryway into your place included. You don’t need to know about this.

What the fuck would he even say to you?

Hey, uh, it’s fucking hot at the hideout, and since you’ve got a working A/C unit and like 3 fans, he’s been sleeping over at yours. No big deal, right?

Even after you return, he keeps sneaking in.

He’s gotten your schedule memorized, and he’s heedful of the hours you keep. You’re a little more regular than the others in the League. You actually sleep at night; unlike the rest. The others are often out at God knows what hour, combing for recruits and leads, but not you.

So, Dabi shifts into full night owl mode. He crashes at your place in the midmorning, after you leave for the day, trying to ignore the perfume that comes from your sheets.

You’ve got a nice smell.

It’s oddly comforting, and he hates when he accidentally burrows into your pillows; nostrils flared, inhaling that aroma that’s all you. While he’s never talked with you before this, he goes out of his way to ignore you now.

What he’s doing is fucking weird, and lines are blurring. The other week he’d bumped into you coming out of the bar and he’d almost snatched you to him.

You must have just showered, because that fucking scent was radiating off your skin. It’s nothing too, eh, feminine? No, it’s more like… oranges and sandalwood. It’s a heady blend of rich balsamic and citrus, and he can’t get it out of his head.

August has faded into September, and he’s still sleeping over at yours.

He can’t help it. It’s not his fault your bed is so downy and, fuck, cool. It’s like the sheets don’t absorb his warmth. No, they’re always cold and they feel so fucking good against his staples and burned skin.

It’s midmorning, closer to noon, and he’s dozing, his eyes heavy and drooping. He’s exhausted, so bone tired, that he doesn’t hear your door opening. No, he doesn’t even notice you until he hears your voice.

“Um, would you like to tell me why you’re in my bed?”

He’s on his feet in a flash, a slow flicking of blue flames tracing along his fingers. You’re framed in your doorway, eyes wide, stepping away from his aggressive stance.

“Woah, woah,” you begin, lifting your hands in supplication. “Let’s just… take a minute and talk. I’m not-”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he snaps, his cerulean eyes narrowing, but he dampens his fire, a long curling of smoke framing his face.

“Uh, I think you got that backward there, bud.��You’re not supposed to be here, I live here,” you scoff, one hand propping on your hip, head tilted exaggeratedly.

Dabi is about to spit something else out when you stride into your bedroom, tugging your jacket off and sauntering over to a tall dresser. He snaps his mouth closed and watches you. He’s not sure how he’s going to talk his way out of this, and he’s grateful for the reprieve. But, he knows an onslaught of anger or, fuck, preserve him, a lecture is incoming. Worst case, he thinks, observing you from his peripheral as you tug out a long shirt and some shorts, you’ll just kick him out and that will be that.

You glance at him again, your eyes lingering over his exposed chest and legs, and he can’t help the scowl that breaks over his face. He’s not embarrassed, he’s just, well, he’s not sure how to classify that stare. Most people recoil or toss him a glance of pity, their brows wrinkled with worry and distaste. But you? You arched an eyebrow and smiled.

Fucking weirdo.

Pausing in your doorway, you bite your lip into your mouth and carefully speak your next statement, voice smooth. “Look, while I’d rather you, oh, I don’t know, asked me about staying here. I’m not in the mood to argue with you, and I’ve got a long journey ahead of me tonight.” You take a deep inhale and toss him another smile.

“Just… just lay back down and get some rest. I promise I won’t molest you,” you tease, and he snaps his head up at that, his chin jutting in agitation.

You laugh at his sour face and he feels wrong-footed; lost. What the fuck? Who says shit like that? Who is in their right mind is just, oh, no worries man, promise I won’t grab your dick?

What’s wrong with you?

“I’m going to change and then I’m going to go to sleep. You can go, or you can stay, I really don’t care. All I know is that I’m not going to sleep on the couch when I’m in my apartment.” You retort, that grin still lifting your lips as you step away, the wall shielding you from his view.

Dabi remains where he is; standing in your bedroom, clad in his boxers, his hands clenched into fists by his side. Somehow this is worse than you throwing him out.

You return a few minutes later and he can’t get a good look at you. You slink past him and are under your covers in an instant. Not that he’s trying to give you a once over, he snarls to himself, shaking his inky head.

You nestle into the comforter and turn to your side, leaving him plenty of room on the opposite end of the bed. He blinks at you, a deep welling of uncertainty nestling in his stomach.

You’re quiet for a long moment, your eyes closing and shoulders relaxing, acting like there’s not a wanted, deadly villain in your bedroom, paces from your side. Then, you twist, giving him a quick scan, your eyes lingering over his.

“Either lay down or get out, Dabi. I’m not going to be able to sleep with you glaring at me like that. You look like some kinda ghost.”

Your declaration provokes a huffing, agitated reaction out of him. If there’s one thing Dabi hates, it’s being told what to do.

He slings himself beside you, splaying out, his body laying on top of the sheets. You chuckle, your head peeking at him over your shoulder. He ignores you and tries to close his eyes.

It feels strange, resting next to you like this. It’s… intimate, and he’s not sure if he hates or likes the sensation. He chances a glance at you, but you’ve already turned back to your side, your shoulders rising and lowering rhythmically. He shakes his head at your blasé reaction. How can you just, fuck, sleep?

He can’t get comfortable and his skin feels heavy again. It’s not heat this time. No, now something else is making everything feel too close, too warm.

He dampens his thoughts, mind frantically focusing on anything but you. As the sun slips behind the buildings across the street, his eyes lower and he fitfully sleeps, your rich smell filling his senses.

He’d left you in the night; tucking his clothes back on and easing out of your window.

True to your word, you’d relegated yourself to your side of the bed, hardly tossing or turning as you slept. As he paced back to the hideout, he wasn’t sure what he’d gotten himself into. He just hoped you’d keep your mouth shut. He didn’t want the others knowing about this, it felt, well it’s not like him. Abrasive- fucking spewing anger and vitriol? Yeah, that was him. But this? This was too soft, too gentle. He hated it.

But that’s the problem with hate. It’s terribly close to that other emotion. They’re sisters, really. Usually love and hate exist on two sides, but they’re still the same coin, no matter how you toss them.

You don’t act any differently after that night.

You keep coming to the hideout, giving him a vague smile and greeting before continuing your day. He’s acting differently, though. He can’t help but watch you, suddenly fascinated with how you move. He tries his best to shake himself from his musings, but sometimes he can’t help it.

If anything, he grumbles to himself, watching you chatter with Toga, you’re subtly going out of your way to place yourself in front of him. You were never around this much before. Well, maybe you were. He didn’t pay you any mind back then, but now? Now he can’t get enough of you.

He reacts when you laugh, or talk, his head turning, like a sunflower, toward the light you give off. Ugh. His only hopeful reprieve from this, from you, is the changing seasons. The days are getting shorter and that heatwave is finally, finally breaking.

It’s his one comfort, his saving grace.

Yeah, he should have fucking never tossed that wish into the universe.

No, another heatwave passes over the island and it’s the worst one yet. The daily temperatures have been hitting the low 100s and the nights aren’t much better. To make matters worse, the A/C at the hideout has given up the ghost and won’t turn on at all now.

Still, Dabi’s prepared. He’d bought a secondhand electric fan a few weeks ago, and he’s grateful for the tiny slice of paradise that it grants him. It’s not as nice as your apartment, or your bed, but it will do.

He’s laying across his mattress, sweat trickling down his back and shoulders, trying to ignore that ache in his burned skin. The fan is blowing across him and he’s about to crank it up a notch when it gives out an ominous sputter.

Dabi sits up, his eyes flashing. No, no, no, no. There’s no fucking way.

The fan’s blades are slowing, that sweet, cool air dampening, drifting into the low-lying humidity that surrounds him. He yanks the plug from the wall, his staples stinging as he stands. He stomps over to the outlet and plugs the fan back in, turning on his haunches to see if the blades will start that familiar whirl.

There’s fuck all happening.

Cursing, he kicks the shitty thing over and grabs his jacket, storming down the stairs and into the night.

You’re sleeping when he slinks under your window sill, sliding the glass shut and kicking his heavy boots to the floor. It’s that sound that wakes you, and you lift yourself up, your sheets falling from your chest, revealing a bare shoulder and low cut shirt to him. Unabashed by your appearance, you wipe a palm over your eyes, rubbing the sleep away and croaking out a greeting.

“When I said you could sleep over here, I didn’t mean you could barge in at all hours. And through my window? So, that’s why the hinge looks like that.”

Dabi considers you for a moment, his blue eyes gleaming in the moonlight. You tilt your head at him and suck your teeth.

“A, oh, I don’t know, sorry, would be nice?” you scold, that alluring smile lifting your lips. He follows the line of your mouth, his thoughts hazing over, focusing on some other, darker, daydream.

“Hello?” you call, waving your hand beside your face. “Earth to Dabi. What do you want?”

That question slips him out of his stupor and he lifts his eyes back to yours. “The A/C is out. Bought a fan a few weeks ago, but the fucking thing broke and I can’t… it’s hard to regulate my body temperature in this fucking heat. You keep this place like an icebox, so I started crashing here. Wasn’t planning on coming back, but after tonight-”

“Ok, ok,” you laugh, already scooting over and flinging the covers back. “Seeing as you didn’t try any funny business last time, I guess I’ll let it slide. Just, not to be rude, but shut up and let me sleep. I’ve gotta long day tomorrow and as enthralling as this conversation is…”

“Whatever,” Dabi mutters, slinging his damp shirt over his head and pacing over to the side of your bed. You blink up at him and shake your head, that tiny grin lingering. He presses into your familiar sheets, eyes already slipping closed as the fragrance of you pulls at him.

It’s early when he wakes, shuddering out of a nightmare, red flames and crying voices fading into the back of his mind.

Wincing, he raises a hand to his eyes and pulls at his face, relieved that it’s still cool air that meets him. As he rolls to his side, he feels something trace over his unscarred chest. The sensation makes him freeze, his eyes snapping open again, the cerulean searching, whisking over the dim figure beside him.

You’re still sleeping, but you’ve shifted, your body curled, facing him, and one of your hands is reaching toward him. Shit, he thinks, heart pounding in his ears. You’re so close.

He’s never been this close to you.

Your mouth is parted, delicate lips plush and soft in the early morning gloom. He tries to shift away, but your brow creases when he does, so he stills his movements, gritting his teeth and trying to ignore that flush that is building across his nose.

This is stupid. It’s just you. It’s not like the two of you have even done anything. Fuck, you barely talk with one another.

He burrows his head into his pillow and the shift of his body urges you closer to him, your hand opening and pressing to his skin. A sigh slips from your mouth as your fingers splay out, tapping against his warmth, and he nearly startles off the bed.

He looks down at your hand, aghast. He wants to move it off of him; can’t stand that you’re touching him, he tells himself, that you’re this close to him. But he can’t bring himself to move. Your hand is so delicate, so…

Unconscious, you turn from him, your fingers lifting on their own, curling back to you. Dabi almost moans as you slip from him, clamping down on the sudden, primal desire that races through him. He wants to grab you; to drag you back to him.

The hell? What the fuck is wrong with him?

Sucking his teeth, he turns over, facing away from the confusing neediness that’s lapping at his subconscious. He fluffs his pillow aggressively, trying to drown out all the raw emotions that are racing through his mind.

Forget it. Sleep.

When he wakes again, you’re gone.

The sheets where you slept are cold under his fingertips and he sits up, his arms resting on his knees. This whole situation is so fucking weird.

He lets himself ease into consciousness before standing and stretching out the leftover kinks in his muscles; stooping to grab his discarded shirt, pulling the fabric over his head and shaking his dark head against the sunlight. Just as he’s slipping his coat on, he notices the note that’s sitting on one of your bedroom chairs. It’s got his name on it, so he snatches it up, flipping open the folded paper.

“There’s some leftover pizza in the fridge, I won’t have time to eat it. Help yourself. There’s also a spare key on the coffee table. Take it and stop jimmying my window open.”

Scoffing, he crumples the paper up, tossing it over his shoulder as he paces into your kitchen.

It’s a fucking thing now.

He’s rarely at the hideout. Why bother? You don’t seem to care if he sleeps over. Hell, you make space for him. There’s gotta be something else to it; there has to be. What kinda idiot is so fucking accommodating? You act like you’re a fucking hostel or something. Well, a hostel where there’s only one bed.

You even bought another fan. You told him you don’t like to keep the overhead one on in the cooler weather, so he can use this one for his side of the bed.

Yeah, he’s got a goddamn side of the bed. It’s fucking insane.

The other members of the League either haven’t noticed what’s going on between the two of you, or they don’t care. It’s not like either of you talk about your sleeping habits. Fuck, you still never interact with him at the hideout, content to maintain that level of professionalism.

He’s not sure why it bothers him.

One night, the temperature drops into the low 40s and he’s stretched out on your blankets, enjoying the first real cold snap of the fall, when he sees you shivering. It’s not very noticeable, what with the way you’re turned away and bundled, but it makes him tilt his head toward you, watching.

Another pass of his fan has you repeating the quake and, without thinking, he pulls you closer, one long arm wrapping around your shoulder and tugging. Startled, you fight his hold, but he calms your movements with a squeeze, grumbling about your stoic reluctance.

What’s the big deal? It’s not like you haven’t brushed up against him before. Calm down.

You quiet after that and slowly, tentatively, you lean against his bare chest, your cheek cool against his heated skin. He tucks his chin over your head and tries to keep his breathing even. He doesn’t want you to hear, fuck, feel his heartbeat; it’s slamming its way out of his throat and he gulps when your fingers pull him closer.

“How are you so warm?” you ask, your breath floating across his pectorals.

“It’s my stupid quirk,” Dabi mutters, dipping his head down to his pillow, shifting you with him. You nod against his lean muscles and your fingertips trace cool designs into his skin, lingering over his burnt patches and staples. He sighs, unable to resist the low shiver that creeps up his spine.

This is nice; too fucking nice.

He can’t do without your touch now.

Remember that thing about love and hate being sisters? Well, that hate is simmering into something else for Dabi. It’s not love, he doesn’t know you well enough, but it’s certainly not hate anymore.

He likes touching you. You’re smooth against his jagged skin and he enjoys the contrast. He’s slow when he pulls you against him, careful to not snag you against his staples, but you seem to like his heat. You’ve even started wearing less to bed, slipping out of that baggy shirt and into a thin tank top; he’s pleased that he has more of you to caress.

It’s getting harder to keep you out of his head. He can smell your perfume, even if he hasn’t seen you for days, and each time he does see you, even at the hideout, his fingers itch to press against you.

You’d laughed at his sudden, intense, interest. The hell Dabi, are you touch starved or something? You’d teased. What’s up with you? I was worried about you burning down my apartment, not you turning into some kind of cuddle fiend.

He doesn’t care what you say. He knows it’s fucking stupid, fucking dumb, that he’s this desperate. It just feels good. And there’s not much about him that feels good these days, so he’ll take what he can get. Fuck you very much.

There’s a meeting. It’s one of the ones where Shigaraki demands that everyone make their way to the bar.

Boss man has been tense lately, thrumming with some dark energy, so the room is quiet as Kurogiri elaborates on the smaller details of the mission. Your part is minimal, limited to reconnaissance with Toga. It’s boring shit, and Dabi is only half listening to any of it.

Besides, there’s something else that’s snagging his attention.

Dabi is sitting on the couch, his eyes lingering on you. You’re wearing one of his favorite outfits and the color looks good on you. It brings out your eyes. You’re questioning Spinner and Toga about the finer points of your team up. He can’t hear you from here, but that doesn’t matter, he’s still in the best spot to spy you leaning forward, perfect ass on full display.

“She’s gotten better, more adept at working undercover,” Compress’ voice shakes Dabi from his thoughts and he turns to him, a bland frown on his face.

“Who?”

“Please, you know who I’m talking about. You can’t stop looking at her.”

He chortles, his laugh a sharp bark. “You’re fucking joking. Her? Fuck, no. I’m gonna head out, not like the boss has anything for me anyway,” Dabi stands, slipping his hands into his trench coat and pacing to the heavy door, shouldering his way into the night.

He leans against the brick wall, lighting up a cigarette and sighing a thin line of smoke into the chilled air. Fuck, they’re noticing what’s going on. Wait. What is going on? It’s not like the two of you are fucking. Yet, a small voice echoes in the back of his mind, and he smirks at that thought.

Yeah, maybe it’s time to speed things up.

You step out a few minutes later, your eyes searching for him. He flicks his cigarette onto the pavement and wraps his fingers in your coat, tugging you to him. You don’t fight him; don’t make a sound as he pins you against the brick, his body hot against your front.

The two of you watch the other, his cerulean eyes roving over your face. Then he’s lifting your chin, his lips sliding across yours. It’s a strange kiss. Usually, he’s too busy trying to get off to focus on his partner. He rarely kisses anyone, even if he’s hooking up. But this kiss?

Like everything else about you, it’s fucking nice.

You move with him, your body surging from the brick, breasts flattening against his chest, fingers cupping behind his ears; nipping and sucking at him, your teeth digging into his burned lower lip and pulling. You’re encouraging him to touch you next, rubbing yourself on him until his hands fall to your hips. He’s already half hard, and that warm juncture of your thighs isn’t helping matters.

To his shock, he’s having trouble keeping up.

You’re already pulling from him when he dips his tongue into your mouth. He gasps at the emptiness, that chilling vacancy that your touch leaves him panting into. Before he can bemoan your absence, you’re kissing at his neck, lifting on your tiptoes to reach the staples on the side of his face. You lick at him, your wet tongue dragging over his burns. He trembles under your hands and you smile, your laugh bright.

Snarling, Dabi yanks your head back and you meet his hazy gaze, biting your lip; pantomiming a wonton innocence. Immediately, he’s pushing you into the brick, his hands cupping and lingering until you’re whining for him. That’s fucking better, he thinks, his teeth worrying against your pulse.

Just when he’s got you where he wants you, your hand snakes between the two of you, pressing against the bulge of his dick. Dabi can’t help his sharp intake of air, and his head falls to your shoulder as he ruts into your palm. You keep kissing at the side of his face, your lips roving over his ear as you tug at his covered dick. You’re saying something, but he can’t focus when you’re doing that.

“Dabi,” you try again, teeth ensnaring his destroyed earlobe, sucking at the burnt skin. “They’re about to come out.”

He knocks your hand away from his straining, throbbing length and leans away from you. Fuck, you look good.

Your lips are swollen, and your eyes are dazzling. He can’t pull himself away. You smile at his dazed expression and lift a hand to his cheek, your palm cool against his overheated skin.

The door shudders open and the two of you spring apart. A few minutes later Toga is grabbing at your arm and pulling you down the street, away from him.

He’s waiting outside your apartment, another cigarette smoldering to ash under his lips. But he can’t bring himself to go in.

Not without you.

Toga’s kept you busy. It’s been over an hour since that kiss in the alleyway. He’s cooled off since then, but that simmering heat that you elicited from him? That hasn’t dimmed. He’s still half hard against his dark pants and he can’t bring himself to care. Besides, Dabi has a very specific idea about how he’s going to have you lessen that pressure for him.

He’s just about to light another cigarette when he sees you.

You walk into your building, and he starts the long climb up the fire escape. His heart is pounding again. He hasn’t wanted something this badly in ages. He’s been so fucking focused on his cause, on making his plans a reality; he just hasn’t had the time.

But now? Fuck, he wants there to be more hours in the day. He’s hoping the two of you can pick up where you left off. Yeah, he tells himself, scaling the last few steps, it’s just about the sex.

That sounds better than saying what he really wants.

You’re already slipping your oversized sleep shirt over your head when he lifts your window. You pause, watching him curl his way into your space. Once he pulls his legs inside he turns to you, his eyes dark, unfathomable, the blue so deep that you feel you’re drowning in it.

He doesn’t shut the window. Instead, he yanks his clothes off, clattering them against your floor. You smile and a gentle laugh makes its way to him.

“What did I say about coming in through the window?” you chuckle, already lifting your arms for him.

He’s against you in a single breath, his warmth seeping its way into your chilled skin. His lips are rough, pressing and lifting, biting and nipping. He’s working you toward your bed and once your knees hit the edge of your mattress, he’s shoving you down.

You flop against the cold blankets, your legs already spreading for his hips. He’s hot, scaldingly hot, against your hands. Your fingers dip into his hair and you pull him back, earning a low growl and his flashing glare, displeasure written all over his face.

“Slow down,” you scold, your legs wrapping around his hips, grinding against the hardness you find.

“The fuck? You goddamn tease. Fucking saying that, then rubbing your wet pussy all over my dick,” Dabi snarls, snatching your wrists and pinning your hands beside your head.

“How do you know it’s wet?” you ask, batting your eyes at his steeled jaw.

“It fucking better be,” he groans, his teeth sinking into your neck and pressing, hard.

You gasp at the stimulation and arch for him, testing his hold on your wrists. Grunting, he licks a wet line to your pulse, his hands tightening over yours. “Mmm, why don’t you find out?” you ask, leaning into his lips, loving the contrast of his destroyed and perfect skin.

He shifts his grip on you, yanking your arms up, pinning your hands above your head. He lifts one of his own hands away once he’s satisfied he’s got a good hold on you. His warm fingers trace down your side, pausing when he gets to the lacy band of your panties. Teasingly, he pulls fabric away from your skin, and lets it snap against your hip. Dabi tips his nose into the curve of your neck and shoulder, taking a deep drag against you.

You buck your hips, squirming under his weight. “You get lost? My pussy is a little further down.”

He chuckles darkly, his breath making you shiver. You’re just about to wriggle from him when one long finger eases past your panties and presses into your sopping heat. “Oh,” you gasp, your eyes rolling back. It feels like he’s heated his fingertip, and the skin that’s stroking and thrusting into you is warm, too warm.

Dabi leans away from your neck, bracing himself above you with his knees, pulling himself into a hunched position. He’s smirking at your awed expression and his teeth glow in the darkness.

“Like I said doll, you’re already so fucking wet for me. You want more?”

You nod and buck your hips, digging that finger deeper. He groans at your eagerness and you can feel him warming the next digit up, the tip burning against the soft flesh of your inner thighs.

Once it’s in, he starts to v the two, dragging them along your rippling walls, spreading you open, easing you into his hand. Your slick is sliding down your legs and seeping into the sheets. Still, Dabi keeps on, maintaining that steady stretch. It starts to sting and you shift away, but he releases your wrists, free hand moves to your hip, stilling you.

You glance up at him, curious. His eyes are hooded, the blue a velvety sapphire. He looks like he’s holding himself back from something. Almost like… like he’s handling you with more care than he’s ever given anything. It’s a strange thought, but the idea of it makes you reach for him, your fingers running down his discolored skin, lingering over the staples and piercings.

“I’ve gotta stretch you out,” he informs you, his eyes closing behind his trembling eyelids, savoring your gentle caress.

“Hmm, you that big?” you joke, fully expecting him to react, to silence you with a kiss or another well-timed thrust of his fingers. But he surprises you. He opens his eyes and fixes you with a rough stare, his digits continuing that aching pull. You’re throbbing around him, your arousal easing his passage, his extensions.

“I don’t want to… hurt-” he stops, his eyes narrowing. With an inaudible sigh, he slides down your body, only halting once he’s face to face with your sleek cunt. His breath heaves against you and you wrap a leg over his back, holding him close.

Dabi laves his tongue over you, latching onto your pulpy clit and giving it a soft suck. Your hands sink into his hair, curling into the spiky tendrils, urging him to give you more.

He rewards your needy moans with another lick and he flicks his eyes up to yours, watching you over your shaking curves.

“I’m going to add another finger,” he tells you, preparing you for another deep stretch. When he enters you almost pull from him, your hips bowing away at the pricking of pain. Sensing your distress, he keeps his lips around your pulsing clit, distracting you with kisses and low blows of air.

Finally, you can feel yourself loosening. Your feet brace against your bed and you use the leverage to maneuver him deeper. You feel, you feel so…

Dabi, realizing that your cunt is quivering around his intruding digits, shifts closer, his piercings rubbing against your thighs. He’s sloppy now, less controlled. His tongue is circling your clit with furious laps and he lets a canine trace the bud. His fingers are still spreading and he’s found that spongy spot now. He taps against it, teasing you, making you clench and gasp around him.

Just when you think you can’t take it anymore, when it seems like all the sensations are too, too, much; it snaps. The coiling in your core pulls free and you’re moaning, so loudly you’re worried your neighbors will hear. His name is falling from your lips at a rapid rate and you can feel his smirk as he lifts his fingers from your cunt.

Dabi leans away and you shake at the loss of him. He was so warm, so hot against your damp skin and you miss it. He watches you, tucking his fingers into his mouth, lapping the final bits of your release from him.

“Take off your clothes,” he demands when he’s finished, his hands already dropping to his tented boxers, slipping the elastic down his trim waist.

You shift to obey, your hands yanking your shirt, bra and soaked panties off of you. You splay under him, indolently admiring the sight that is revealed to you. Oh, you think, unable to contain your small gasp, he is big.

His cock is long, thick, and curved, and it’s dripping with pre-cum. There’s a crossed set of piercings at the tip of his length and you watch, mesmerized, as a shimmering strand of his arousal catches on the shiny silver, leeching down the smooth length of him. He’s bigger than anything you’ve ever taken, and that thought makes you shiver with anticipation, and a small sliver of worry.

Dabi grins wildly at your flushed face. “Like what you see?”

You nod, and he laughs, fingers snatching your legs, tugging you toward him. You spread for him, so eager and fucking turned on you can’t think straight. His hand lowers to his cock, and he strokes himself as he rechecks your silken cunt, gathering some of the gossamer strands of your arousal on his fingers as he ensures that you’re ready to take him.

“I’m not going to go slow,” he warns you, his eyes lifting from your folds.

Gulping and biting your lip, you nod, a shaking exhale escaping your lungs. He shifts himself nearer and begins to press. He’s right, you think, wincing at the sting of his intrusion. He’d stretched you out, licked you until you were leaking all over the bed, but it hurts.

It takes him a moment to bottom out. Once he does, he groans and gasps above you. “Fuck (Y/N), you’re so damn tight.”

You flop your head against your pillow and let out a long sigh. He’s holding still as you adjust, and, despite his warning, he’s being careful with you. It makes your chest squeeze. After a few more pained breaths, you can feel a low tingling radiating from your core. It’s like an itch. Experimentally, you cant your hips, your legs wrapping around his waist, cautious of the stapled skin across his lower back.

Dabi mutters a soft curse and pulls back, his length sliding out of your drenched pussy. When he glides back in, you feel that same tingling sensation. Distantly, you realize it must be those piercings of his, but you’re too overwhelmed by the sensation to process it fully.

“Hold on,” he groans, his hands bracing beside your head. You lace your arms around his bowed neck, and he starts to pounds into you. It’s a calculated motion, but- ah- he’s taking the extra second between his powerful pulls and thrusts to scrape his pelvis against your pulsating clit, stimulating you, ensuring that dim blaze pleasure within you keeps building. Whimpering, you arch your back, your ankles locking around him, encouraging him to keep going. You feel so good, so full, filled to the brim and practically begging him for more.

Sloppily, his mismatched lips find yours and he nibbles and kisses at you. The sheer heat of him is making you both slick with sweat. You don’t mind the salty, dampened feeling, if anything, it eases his motions.

You’re so wet now that he’s gliding easily into you; that piercing of his heating up, and the rapid fire thrusts he’s giving you create a smoldering inside you; like he’s catching you on fire from the inside out.

His hips stutter and he lifts one hand from the bed, his thumb easily finding your clit. He presses a tight circle across you and you see spots.

“Come on,” he groans, his voice hoarse, strained, “cum for me (Y/N). Fucking cum on my dick.”

That desperation in his tone is all that it takes.

Seconds later, you’re arching and shaking so much that he has to hold you still. He eases into you a final time, his frantic thrusts slowing, spacing out as he enjoys your rippling channel, and the fiery feeling of his own release almost hurtles you over the edge again. You curl against him, panting into his burnt ear, licking at the damaged skin.

Dabi leans heavily against you, one large hand pressing into your lower back, lifting you to him. Once he comes back to himself, he kisses at your shoulder, his warm breath making you shiver. He eases himself out of you and your legs clamp together, holding his cum inside you. It still feels so, so hot, and you’re not ready to let it drip out of you, not yet.

He untangles himself from you and adjusts some of his staples, wincing against the sting of his marred and clean flesh. Realizing what he’s doing, you slip from the bed and pad into your bathroom. You clean yourself off and grab a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, dampening a clean cloth with the solution.

“Here. It’s got some peroxide on it,” you tell him as you reenter the bedroom, tossing the rag his way. He catches it easily, dabbing it over himself, careful to not snag it on any of his loose skin. While he’s busy doing that, you snatch up his discarded white shirt and sling it over your head. He looks at you and scoffs.

“What’s wrong with yours?” he asks, tossing the cloth onto the floor.

“Yours looked better,” you inform him, returning to his side and leaning close. He rolls his eyes at you and you shift into his open lap, straddling his hips. Grinning, you kiss at his neck again, sneaking a few groans from him. Sighing as you give him a particularly hard nip, he bats you off of him, tumbling you down to the sheets.

“Give me a fucking minute,” he complains, shaking his head as you wrap around him, pulling him into your arms. Once he’s settled onto the bed you turn, pressing your back to his chest, relaxing into the familiar hold. He snorts, amused by your sudden change of mind.

Dabi lowers his forehead to the back of your head, a small smile rising along his lips. Your breathing evens out and he listens to the sound, trying to memorize each little detail of you.

Yeah, this is it, he tells himself as he drifts off. The rest is just extra. Oh, it’s nice, to be sure, but this, this right here is what he really wants.

Notes: Soft, soft Dabi. I like him like this ꒰ ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱ ˖°

Tags: @evesmores, @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx

#dabi #toya todoroki #i can put that #like omg #bnha smut #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #toya x reader #toya x y/n #toya x you #tw: blood #tw: gore #tw: dabi #tw: heat play #answered asks #asks

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whatareyousearchingfordean · 4 years ago

Text

Happiness Continues

Epilogue

Summary: The Ackles’ celebrate a birthday with their families.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 3.6K+

Warnings: Language, unprotected intercourse, oral sex (male receiving), semi-public sex

Author’s Note: Well, I can’t believe it, but here is the final installment to this epic saga (I can say that since I wrote it lol). I’m so thankful to each and every one of you who have taken the time to read. I sincerely hope it has lived up to your expectations. Many thanks to my constant cheerleaders and to @winchest09 for looking over this one. xoxo Alex

Catch up with the series masterlist and then check out Alexandra’s Library for more by yours truly!

Five Years Later

The island was littered with Tupperware, each one filled with pre-cut vegetables, meats, or cheeses. Y/n stood at the edge, humming along to the muffled music playing outside as she arranged the snacks onto servings trays. She was concentrating on the Halloween design she was putting together, missing the sound of the patio door opening and closing around the corner to the kitchen.

A soft ‘oof’ fell from her lips as a body pinned her between themselves and the counter. “I’ve got a full moon that’ll make you howl,” the voice of her husband was thick as he spoke in her ear, his arms coming to rest on the counter around her, effectively caging her in. Y/n reeled back from him, concern evident on her face as she turned her head. The couple made eye contact before bursting out in shared laughter.

“That was so bad.”

“Yeah it was really bad,” Jensen agreed, his body still shaking with amusement.

“I don’t even know what to say to that.” Y/n turned back to her task with a shake of her head.

“Uh, say you can’t wait to see my full moon because it’ll bring out the animal in you,” Jensen suggested, referencing back to the werewolf costume she had chosen for the night.

“Nope, not doing that.” Y/n was quick to shoot him down. “How long have you been working on that one?”

“Pretty much since you came downstairs in this little number,” his voice dropped as he let one hand fall to her knee, tracing the inside of her thigh up until it hit the edge of her skirt.

When her husband suggested Supernatural costumes, she hadn’t thought he was serious at first but he convinced her, not that it took much. She knew that she wanted to do something a little different than an angel or demon, choosing instead to emulate Garth’s werewolf family from the episode Sharp Teeth. So she got her nails done, bought a pair of yellow contacts and a silver bullet on a chain, and paired it all with a white turtleneck and plaid skirt. It was simple but she was satisfied with how it turned out. Her husband’s reaction to seeing it just the cherry on top she had not intended.

“You are such a guy sometimes,” she giggled, though she would never admit that it was one of her favorite things about him.

“Oh, you love it,” he purred, pressing the length of his body closer to hers, the hand that had been on her thigh now pressing into her lower belly. Her husband’s movement had Y/n biting back a whimper. “Been thinking about tearing it off of you all damn night. Care to come with me?”

“Have you lost your mind? Our entire families are outside.” Y/n dropped the cheese in her hand in surprise.

“They won’t miss us for twenty minutes,” Jensen shrugged. “There are a million people out there and a bouncy castle. Everyone is occupied.”

“Oh, you only need twenty minutes?”

“I seem to remember being able to get you off in fifteen once before.” Her body reacted to his words before she could stop it, arching her back against her husband who groaned as her ass pressed into him. The memory of that morning in his trailer had her biting her lip, the moment still clear in her head even if it did feel so long ago now. “Come on, leave the snacks for a minute.”

“Jensen...”

“Ah, it’s Dean tonight,” he interrupted her protest. “I know you’ve been dreaming of fucking Dean Winchester for the past eight years. So what do you say, sweetheart?”

“You don’t play fair,” she breathed as her body trembled at his words, heat pooling deep in her belly. He was right of course, it had been a fantasy of hers even before they started dating. And of course, he knew it without her ever needing to vocalize it. Jensen was playing her like a piano, hitting all the right notes.

“Is that a yes?” Y/n could hear the smile in his voice. She turned around in his arms and tried to put on her serious face.

“You better be fast, Ackles,” she asserted.

“Yes, ma’am,” Jensen agreed, swiping his tongue over the length of his lower lip before dipping in to kiss her hard and fast. He stepped back and took her hand, dragging her towards the garage. Stopping outside the half bathroom that sat near the garage entrance, he looked around before pushing her inside.

“So serious,” Y/n grinned at her husband as he shut the door and locked it behind them.

“Baby, you know I don’t kid when it comes to you,” he reached out for her, cradling her jaw in his hands as he tugged her body to his.

Their lips crashed together in a heated exchange, their mouths moving against one another in a rehearsed dance. She could taste the beer he had been sipping on all night as she sucked his tongue into her mouth and she relished in the flavor combined with her husband’s usual spice. Y/n slid her hands over the expanse of his shoulders, urging the flannel and canvas jacket that made up Jensen’s ‘Dean’ costume off his body. The fabric fell to the floor with a gentle thud. Once he was free, Jensen ran his palms over the globes of her ass, using his fingers to bunch up the material of her skirt to her hips.

“Fuck,” he groaned, finding her barely covered by the lace of her black thong. “You knew what you were doing to me.”

“I only hoped,” she admitted, taking advantage of his distraction to kiss along his jaw and down his neck. Y/n dropped her hands to his belt, unfastening the leather from the buckle as her husband dipped his fingers between her folds. A moan crept up her throat causing her to bury her face in his shoulder to muffle the sound.

“So wet for me already,” he noted as he continued to play with her. She could only nod in response, her shaky hands finishing her work of undoing his jeans. As the zipper came down, she wasted no time pushing his jeans and boxers below his ass and taking his hardening cock in her hand. He brought her lips back to his as she jerked him off, the couples gasping breaths making the air in the small room heavy.

“Spit on it,” his voice was gruff with his arousal as he pulled back from his wife. The grin on her face was wicked as she collected saliva in her mouth and dropped to her knees. She let it dribble slowly from her mouth and collect on the head before rubbing her thumb through it, mixing the drool and precum before spreading it up his shaft. “Yeah, that’s my good girl.”

Y/n looked up at him through her lashes, the yellow contacts she wore glinting in the warm light of the bathroom. Her husband had his lip caught between his teeth as she took his length in her mouth and suckled against the head before taking him as far as she could. Jensen bucked his hips, pressing himself to the back of her throat, causing his wife to gag. She released him and took a deep breath, trying not to laugh but failing.

“Get up here,” he laughed softly along with her, squatting a bit to help her back to her feet. Placing a kiss on the tip of her nose before he spun her around, Jensen bent her over the sink as he pushed aside the thin material of her thong and lined himself up with her entrance. Her chin dropped to her chest as he pushed inside her, stretching her cunt just right with every inch.

“Oh, god,” she gasped, the sound echoing in the room and earning her a large hand over her mouth. Jensen brought her back against his chest as he began to move, his tongue poked out between his teeth as he bit back the vibration in his chest threatening to escape. Y/n watched him in the mirror, the concentration on his face making her whimper with every calculated thrust of him inside her. The noise had his eyes snapping up to meet hers in the glass, a devilish smirk crossing his face.

“You’ve got to be quiet, sweetheart. Unless you want everyone to know how you are taking my cock like a good little slut,” he husked in her ear, his eyes never leaving hers. She nodded her understanding and he released his hold on her mouth, his hand traveling down to hold her throat instead. Her eyes fluttered shut as he applied pressure, his hips still fucking her mercilessly. “Keep your eyes on me, I wanna see you when you come.”

Doing as she was told, Y/n once again met her gaze with her husband in the mirror. She was close, the rubber band in her core ready to snap and she knew he wasn’t too far behind. His dick was throbbing inside her, making her walls flutter against the length of him. Her vision was beginning to darken around the edges as his fingers flexed against her throat. Jensen could sense she needed a little more and used the thumb of his free hand to rub tight circles into her throbbing clit. The orgasm hit her like a truck, a scream assuredly escaping her mouth had she been able to breathe. He relented his grip on her as her pulsating walls milked him of everything he had.

A knock sounded at the door just as he filled her used cunt with his come. Both of them snapped their heads to the sound, their bodies tensing. The handle jiggled against the lock and she knew something had to be said.

“Be out in a minute,” she rasped, hoping her voice didn’t sound too wrecked. Footsteps could be heard against the tile receding into the house after a beat. Jensen rested his forehead against her shoulder, letting out a shuddering breath. “We’ve got to go now.”

“Right,” he mumbled, pulling his softening cock from inside her. Y/n quivered as she felt the mixture of their release drip down her thighs. Jensen snatched a bit of toilet paper and cleaned her up before doing the same to himself. The couple swiftly fixed their clothes back into place before Y/n opened the door and peered out to make sure no one else was waiting. Jensen gave her a second head start before following after her.

As they came to the end of the hall, Donna looked up from her place at the kitchen island. She smiled sweetly at Y/n, her brows raising ever so on her forehead as she glanced behind the younger women. Y/n turned to see Jensen now appearing from the hallway. She flashed her husband a look before turning back to his mother.

“Oh, Donna you didn’t have to do that. I was just using the restroom,” Y/n tried to play off her absence, but she was still a tad breathless as she spoke. Her mother-in-law had taken it upon herself to finish up the task of refilling the snack platters in their absence, much to Y/n’s dismay.

“That’s alright. I came in to see if you needed any help, so I’m helping,” Donna waved her off as she looked back down at the job at hand. Y/n glanced over her shoulder at her husband, her eyes wide. Jensen gave her one curt shake of his head, urging her to move further into the kitchen. The older woman looked up as they reached the island, looking at her son this time. “Where were you at, honey?”

“Oh,” Jensen cleared his throat and pointed over his shoulder. “Um, Y/n asked me to check her car because she, uh, thought she bought another bag of pretzels but couldn’t find them.” Y/n had to admit he was pretty good at coming up with that on the fly and managing to keep his face straight, but she guessed that’s what decades of acting will do for a person.

“No luck I guess,” Donna noted that he was empty-handed.

“Nope, no pretzels,” Jensen agreed, his reciprocating smile tight on his lips.

“Alright, well the little ones are getting antsy, you might want to cut that cake soon,” Donna picked up the finished tray and headed towards the patio door but not before stopping to turn back to the couple. “Oh, and Jay?”

“Yeah, mom?”

“Your fly is still down.” She smiled sweetly before disappearing outside. Y/n spun to look at her husband, her mouth agape as he looked down and hurriedly zipped up his jeans.

“Oh my God,” she yelped, her hands flying to cover her mouth. Jensen moved past her with a huff and pulled open the drawer in the kitchen that held the candles and lighter for the party.

“Babe, don’t worry. It’s not like she is going to announce it to the whole party. Though she might tell my dad later,” he mused with a slight grimace.

“Don’t tell me that,” Y/n looked at him, the embarrassment written all over her face. Jensen chuckled at her as he used his free hand to pull her into his side. He squeezed her waist as he kissed away the wrinkles in the center of her forehead.

“Honey, we are married. I think everybody knows we have sex by now.”

“Sure, but they don’t know when we do it,” she cringed internally. “Or that we do it when they are in our house at our kids’ birthday party.”

Jensen leaned into her ear again. “You can’t fool me, you know? I know how much you secretly like everybody to know you are mine. It’s why you are gonna enjoy feeling me between your legs for the rest of the night.” He smacked her ass before leaving her standing in the kitchen as he rejoined the party. Y/n cursed him silently as she chased after him.

The sun was almost gone over the horizon, making it the perfect time to light the candles. Y/n made her way off the patio where the seating was filled with various adults and some of the older cousins and headed towards the hoard of children on the lawn and the bounce house.

“Who wants cake and ice cream?” She yelled as she reached the nylon structure. Her question earned a series of shrieks from the kids both inside and out of it. Josh, who had been watching those inside, helped her with getting them all out. They followed after the flurry of kids towards the house, arriving just as Jensen lit the candles.

The cousins surrounded the cake table. Ezra and Odette, who were nearly inseparable these days, found their way to the other side to surround Levi. Tom hung out with Mackenzie’s kids, having grown close in the past six years, and Shep tended more towards Josh’s kids, but they were all there, more grown than her heart wanted to accept.

The whole party began singing ‘Happy Birthday’ as Jensen grabbed the twins’ hands. He pulled them from the crowd of kids and close to the table, squatting down to hold them against his chest, one in each arm.

“Happy birthday dear Willa and Atlas, happy birthday to you!” The song ended with cheers from the party-goers. Jensen helped their kids to blow out the candles, the excitement written across their tiny faces as he cheered along with the rest of their family.

Y/n stepped up then and took Atlas from his father while the grandmas took over the cutting and serving of dessert. The twins got their’s first followed by the rest of the cousins and then the rest of the family. The handful of napkins Y/n held in one hand was no use against thawed ice cream and a toddler, the melted dairy getting everywhere. Not that their border collie, Poppy, was upset by the drippings hitting the edge of the table and the stone patio below. The parents however were a different story. Jensen was covered from Willa, and he had to permanently rid himself of the flannel and canvas jacket. Y/n had managed to keep her own clothes clean but the twins were out of luck. The two had to be stripped of their ‘Phil and Lil’ costumes before they were let loose again.

The kids spent the rest of the night running off all the sugar and excitement of the day. Surprisingly, it didn’t take as long as she had expected it to. By the time they were starting the bonfire, the twins were tapped out, trapping Jensen in his seat as they slept in his lap. The older cousins were also starting to slow down, enjoying the fire with the adults as the night cooled.

The fire pit sat not far from the creek that cut through their property; the night air filled with the sound of the crackling fire and undisturbed nature. Y/n sat back in her folding chair as she listened to the conversation being had around her by her loved ones.

“Mommy, can I sit with you?” Ezra stood next to her, evidently over sitting on the blanket with Odette. She nodded to him with a smile and helped him into her lap, allowing her oldest to rest against her chest. With the child growing more independent every day, Y/n was learning to savor the small moments like these, unsure of which one would be her last. Her head turned towards the bed of water to her right, watching the flames dance against the waves and tuning her ears to the rushing water.

“You know, in the five years you guys have been here, I have not been able to get over this view,” Jared spoke up from across the way with Gen sitting in his lap, after having followed his sister’s gaze towards the water. “I might have to move the family in.”

“Uh you do that and the horses are officially your responsibility,” Y/n laughed as she rubbed her son’s back absentmindedly, her hands running every so often through the blonde locks on the back of his head.

It truly was a beautiful property that had just gone onto the market when she and Jensen began looking. It was more than they initially had wanted to pay, but the seclusion and security couldn’t be matched. After everything that had happened, the couple took on a lot of new protective measures for their family. Moving somewhere more secluded was number one because while Chandler had gone to prison, he wouldn’t be there forever and he wasn’t the only crazy fan that lived out there. This way they could sleep again at night.

The ranch was almost forty acres of fenced property that cut through Barton Creek, just west of downtown Austin. It sat back off the road in a gated community, leading up to the nature preserve. There was even a barn for horses and a guest house. They were hidden from the world and that was just how she liked it. Now, she couldn’t imagine living anywhere else, even if it was a lot of work at the end of the day.

Jared and Gen had convinced the Ackles to let them fill the barn not long after they bought the ranch. After all, it had been their plan all along, just not housing her brother’s horses along with her own. Though they were here all the time to help out with the upkeep, passing it off sounded like a dream.

“I think we could make that happen, after all, two of the three are ours,” Gen agreed, laughing at her sister-in-law’s face. Jared joined in with his wife and Y/n couldn’t help but smile at them.

“But seriously, I love seeing you happy, smalls,” Jared acknowledged, his gaze flicking to where her husband was next to her. She followed his line of sight, finding her husband now just as out as their twins.

“Yeah, me too.” A grin spread across her face as she watched the three sleeping. She felt her chest swelling as she let the scene take over her, the emotions hitting her all at once as she watched her family were overwhelming.

There was a time when she had resigned herself to the fact that this was out of her reach. As much as she had been content with her life when she walked onto the set of Supernatural all those years ago, she couldn’t deny that at times it felt like something was missing. And this, this was what she had been missing. That feeling in her chest due to the overwhelming amount of pure love in her heart as she looks at her husband and their family that she has no idea how to even begin to quantify it.

There will never be words for her to express to him how she truly feels. Words can’t describe it. And when she looks at the three little lives they created together, that feeling only multiplies. He took a self-proclaimed independent woman and taught her what it truly meant to love and be loved by another person. Then he gave her their most beautiful blessings and she learned all over again that the heart will always make room for more love. But most importantly, he taught her how to be happy. All she needed to do was let it in because the happiness has always been there, and now more than ever, it always will be.

Thank you again, from the bottom of my heart, for reading, commenting, and enjoying. The Happiness Saga will forever remain close to my heart xoxo Alex

Forevers: @22sarah08 @akshi8278 @anathewierdo @atc74 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @briagallen @callmekda @dawnie1988 @deandreamernp @deanwanddamons @ellewritesfix05 @emoryhemsworth @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @janicho88 @jensengirl83 @katehuntington @lyarr24 @malfoysqueen14 @miss-nerd95 @mrsjenniferwinchester @msmarvelouswinchester @polina-93 @sleepylunarwolf @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @smol-and-grumpy @suckmyapplejacks @superfanficnatural @supraveng @talesmaniac89 @tatted-trina6 @thoughts-and-funnies @tranquility-or-chaos @waywardbeanie @winchest09

Happiness Continues: @afangirlreacts @anaelsbrunette @ashleyrose0117 @austin-winchester67 @cno92 @deanbowlegsackles @deangirl93 @deans-baby-momma @death-unbecomes-you @dvnmbabe @fangirl199813 @harryhook-lover @hoboal87 @itsdesiree86 @jbsgirl4ever11 @let-me-luve-you @linki-locks11 @lunarmoon8 @neverland14353 @onethirstyunicorn @parinarain @rebeccathefangirl @rebelemilu @smoothdogsgirl @spnfamily-j2 @squirrelnotsam @stoneyggirl @supernatural3002 @traceyaudette @winchestergirl82 @winqhster @zpandaqueen

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youngbloodlisk · 4 years ago

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Favorite Student // Kim Sunwoo

"Do you find me sexually attractive?"

- did i rlly need to write another sunwoo smut?

- probably not

- professor sunwoo smut

- unprotected sex (plz don't be like my characters and be safe)

- not my best work lol but oh well

- for my lady ;)

I tug lightly on my sleeve, pulling it over half of my hand, as the room is suddenly at least two degrees colder.

I'm glad I was thinking ahead this morning. This classroom is always chilly.

Which it shouldn't be, given who the professor is.

Mr. Kim is a classic "every girl on campus wants to get in his pants" type of hot teacher.

He's attractive, that's objectively true, but I've never understood all the hype and how girls are always so horny for him. He just teaches English, it's not like he's talking dirty all day and wearing a stripper outfit. His usual attire is dress pants, a white dress shirt, and a suit vest. Standard shit.

His glasses adorn his face, and that part of the hype I can understand. Sometimes he takes the glasses off and bites the end when he's thinking, and I can't lie: it's pretty hot.

He dismisses class for the day, and I pack up my things in my bag. As I'm passing his desk, making my way towards the door, someone runs past me. They bump into me pretty hard and it causes me to lose my balance and fall over.

My bag opens in the process and all of my books, pens, notes, and personal items fall out onto the floor.

"You're fucking kidding..." I mutter under my breathe. I sigh and start to pick up pens.

Mr. Kim rushes out from behind his desk and starts helping me gather my things, picking up textbooks one by one.

"Are you alright? You took that fall pretty hard." His unique, soft, yet rough voice asks when everything is back in my bag. Honestly, it's a bit strange to hear anything non-lesson related some from his mouth.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm okay. No harm done." Besides some embarrassment.

"Good. Wouldn't want my favorite student out of commission, would we?"

My heart stops for a moment and my eyes widen.

"Favorite student?"

"You're the best in the class."

"That's not true, tons of-" He cuts me off by shaking his head.

"Not what I mean. You may not be top of the class in grades, but you're the only one working hard genuinely. The rest of them just wanna impress me. I don't like people who wanna impress me. You're not like them."

"Oh..." That makes a lot more sense. "Well, thank you, Mr. Kim."

"Do you have a moment before your next class?"

"Um... yeah, I do. My next class isn't for another hour."

"Have a seat." He pulls a nearby chair up to his desk, right next to his. "I'd like to talk to you about your last assignment."

I sigh a bit, knowing I wasn't very confident in my work that assignment already.

I can't leave, I just told him I was free. Guess I'm getting my homework corrected...

I occupy the chair next to him and immediately notice his scent.

Some strange mix of wood, flowers, and fresh baked apple pie. It's beautiful. It's addictive.

"Overall you did pretty well analyzing and interpreting the story. There's just one section I wanna go over with you." I nod and he proceeds. "Right here. This section." He circles the small paragraph with his pen. "What all of this is really saying is that this woman is surprised by the man's real self, as she only knew him through a professional lens. Once she sees him on a more personal level, she's greatly attracted to him. Enough to kiss him, even though she still barely knows him and thought nothing of him only a single paragraph ago. When she sees him on a closer level, she still hasn't seen his personality or his deep thoughts or anything. She's just seeing him as... human. And she finds this human very sexually attractive. Do you understand?"

I nod, the assignment only half on my mind now.

I'm beginning to notice his hands, his lips...

He's a beautifully constructed man.

"I think I'm living it." I mutter, without thinking.

His eyes leave the paper in front of him and he looks at me with an interested gaze.

"Sorry, what was that?" My head snaps out of the trance I was in and returns to reality, realizing what I said.

"Nothing, Mr. Kim." I laugh nervously.

He takes his glasses off and twirls them in his fingers. His long, beautiful fingers...

"No, you said something. Something you probably shouldn't have said. Isn't that right?"

"I..."

He stares at my lips. The look in his eyes isn't unfamiliar in general, but it's very unfamiliar coming from him.

"Do you find me sexually attractive?"

I almost choke at the blunt nature of his question.

"Uh-"

He doesn't give me a chance to even respond.

"You never used to, did you? But now... that's different..." He's slowly leaning closer to me, his eyes still locked on my lips.

"Mr. Kim..."

"Sunwoo."

"What?" Instead of responding, he boldly presses his pink lips against mine. Once the immediate shock wears off, I can't help but kiss him back.

Remember how I said his scent is addictive? His lips, his taste... they make his scent seem like child's play.

The kiss heats up fast, and honestly I'm not totally sure which one of us escalates it by adding our tongues to the mix. It just happens.

Mr. Kim- Sunwoo places his hands on my waist and pulls me closer. I soon find myself straddling his waist, tangling my hands in his soft hair.

I don't know what makes me decide to move and kiss his jaw and his neck, but he definitely doesn't complain. In fact, he uses the opportunity to begin moving things on his desk.

He groans when I roll my hips, giving pressure and friction to his growing boner.

"You're a bold girl, are you? So dirty..." His hands hook under my thighs and he lifts me up, turning a corner so my landing place is the right side edge of his desk.

He reattaches his lips to mine and I hear him begin to unbuckle his belt before he stops and pulls away.

"Do you wanna stop? We don't have to go any further."

"No, I wanna keep going. I want you."

He smirks and kisses me again, continuing to unbuckle his belt.

I begin to work on my own button and zipper as I lay back on the desk, propping myself up with my elbows.

He wastes no time taking himself out of his underwear, and I feel a rush of wetness at the sight.

Sunwoo takes the waistbands of my jeans and my underwear in his fingers and pulls them down just enough to have full access to me, about to my knees.

"Second guessing?" He checks before doing anything else.

"Not at all." I shake my head, before letting out a whine when his fingers lightly run down my slit.

"You're so... beautiful." He almost whispers, in a breathy, soft tone.

He rubs his tip around my entrance before slowly, and carefully pushing into me.

My breath hitches and my eyes squeeze shut in reaction to his size stretching me out.

He can't hold back his own moans, my tightness enveloping him.

He bottoms out and stays still for a moment before moving.

His thrusts aren't rapid, but they're hard and deep.

Pleasure fills my body, my back arching slightly and my stomach tightening. Sunwoo is watching me intently, eyes full of lust.

His hands rest on my waist, holding me with a soft grip. A stark contrast to his rough thrusts.

"Can't you- g-get in trouble for this?" I choke out as clearly as I can.

"I don't care..." He speeds up his pace. I bring one of my hands up to my mouth to smother the cry threatening to come out. "I'm... I'm getting close... where should I-"

"I'm on the pill, just keep going."

"Are you sure?"

"Cum in me, Sunwoo, p-please-" I stutter through my response. "Make me remember this f-for the rest of the... the day."

"Oh, I'll make sure you remember this for far longer than that..."

"I'm getting close, Sunwoo-"

"Cum for me, angel." That was all I needed for the knot in my stomach to snap and unravel. Only a moment later, I feel something warm spill into me and Sunwoo groans.

He pulls out and neither of us speak or move for a minute, both of us trying to catch our breath.

Carefully, he puts himself away, having nothing around to clean off with.

"Guess I'll have to wait until I get home." He shyly chuckles.

"Me too." I remark, using any last bit of energy to slowly pull my own pants back up my legs.

"So... do you think you understand that paragraph?"

I cover my face with my hands.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I definitely get where that woman was coming from. Talking with someone personally can change a lot."

"Good." He glances at his watch. "You should get going, you don't wanna be late for your next class. You've only got ten minutes."

"You're right, I should..." I pick my bag up from the floor next to the desk. The desk that I will never look at the same way again. "Um.... thanks for the... help." I stumble over my words awkwardly, as I walk backwards towards the door.

"Maybe I can help you again sometime." He throws me a wink before focusing his attention on actual work.

I feel my stomach fill with butterflies at the thought, and I'm just hoping no one asks why my face is so red.

Or why I look a bit disheveled.

#ciiikbwork #kim sunwoo smut #sunwoo smut #tbz smut #the boyz smut

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knchins · 4 years ago

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Symbiosis - Benimaru & Joker

Summary: Benimaru, Joker, and a former Sister learn how to work through their frustrations with their investigation into the Holy Sol Temple through the one thing they know best: sex.

Pairing: Benimaru Shinmon x Fem!Reader x Joker

Rating: E

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: pwp (I didn't even try this time lmao), spanking, vaginal sex, oral sex, dirty talk/degradation, some dob/sub themes, hair pulling, face fucking. I do not count this as dp but some people might. SPIT ROASTING.

Notes: So I wrote this for @tamcitrus and I hope she likes it! It’s like my most self indulgent piece to date probably lol. Idk how I managed to write this while being barely able to breathe but when the inspo strikes what can you do....First FF/ENS piece! I think they may be a bit OOC but...whatever I’m too sick to care.,

“So will you join me, Sister?” The mysterious man asked as he puffed on a cigarette. You stared off at the nighttime skyline, at the temple in the very far eastern horizon. Was this something you really wanted to do? It would be dangerous, but you could sense the power coming from him. Not only that, he had already enlisted the help of the Captain of the 7th, Benimaru Shinmon. It wasn’t as if you’d be taking on the church all by yourself.

Your mind drifted as the King of Destruction peppered kisses down your bare throat. The mission with Joker hadn’t been entirely successful. In the end they were met with Captain Burns who handed you a journal that belonged to the wife of Raffles I. While it was true you did come up with some new theories about the White Clad, ultimately it felt like a dead end. Now you just had more questions than answers and it was incredibly frustrating.

But you weren’t the only one frustrated. Your two new comrades had been too. Eventually you had found a way to relieve the tension that had built up over so many years of bullshit. Having been an orphan and raised as a Sister for the Holy Sol Temple, you had plenty of ill will harbored against the empire. You had long abandoned your title but that didn’t stop the two men from egging you on by calling you by it.

Currently the former assassin was watching through a half-lidded eye as you sat in Benimaru’s lap, your back to his chest as he kissed along your neck and cupped both breasts in his hands. You were already stripped down to your underwear, both men clad in only pants and briefs. Joker tended to observe first before joining in, enjoying taking his time watching the view of Beni turn you on and work you over. Small trails of smoke rose from the lit white stick of tobacco that hung from his mouth.

“You look so pretty like that, Sister.” He drawled, inhaling another wave of smoke that filtered out of his nose. “You like when he plays with your tits don’t you?”

“Don’t call me that,” You protested weakly in a voice that came out as more of a moan than a grumble as Beni began to tweak your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You began to wiggle in his lap, ass brushing against his stiffening cock in a way that had him biting down on your shoulder possessively.

The cotton panties you had been wearing were soaked all the way through between your legs. This stupid little routine always had you mewling and crying before anyone even bothered touching your needy cunt. Beni enjoyed torturing you too much and Joker enjoyed watching him do it. You had known in the beginning being the only woman in the trio would put you at a disadvantage. You just didn’t know how much.

“Waka, please.” You gasped as he bit down on your throat this time, sucking a bruise into the skin there. One of your hands moved to try and touch your clit for some form of relief, but he warned you by warming up his hands rapidly. It wasn’t enough to burn you but it was enough to let you know that he would if you didn’t play by his rules. “Asshole.” You hissed, pulling your hand back up to a safe distance. You reached behind him and grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging it angrily.

Beni quickly pushed you onto the tatami mat on the floor roughly, holding the back of your head in one hand, pressing your face against the material as he lifted your hips up with the other. He began to grind his erection against the wet fabric of your underwear, seething as he ripped down your underwear so that you were completely bare for the both of them.

He took no time in slapping your ass in retaliation for pulling on his hair. “Impatient little slut.” He growled, causing you to clench with desire. The way his deep voice reverberated in the small room made you even wetter.

Joker was laughing lightly at the scene. It was pretty typical for you to piss Beni off. And the cute little squeaks you let out as the captain spanked you was just even more delectable than your moans. He finally stood, dropping his pants and underwear at the same time as he knelt before you. Beni took his hand off the back of your head so you could lift up enough for Joker to grab you by the hair and pull you up onto your hands.

He always had an affinity for fucking your warm wet mouth. Something about choking you on his dick felt better than either your pussy or ass. It was definitely his preferred hole, not that Benimaru minded. It was easier to punish you if he had total control of your lower half. You could hear Beni remove himself from the rest of his clothing as well.

At the feeling of his blushed head pressing into your folds, you began to protest. “Beni, you have to-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence as Fifty-Two plunged his dick into your open mouth.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Sister,” Benimaru spat out. “Only good girls get warm ups.” Then he pushed his impressively large cock into your small hole, filling you up and stretching you out with a familiar but still painful burn.

Your cries were garbled by the dick in your mouth. Joker was still, watching the different emotions cross your face: panic, surprise, pain, pleasure. The last one had your jaw slackening for him drool rolling off your lower lip as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. Despite the initial discomfort, there was no greater pleasure in this life than the Captain’s cock being buried balls deep into your soaking pussy.

“This is what you wanted, right little slut?” Beni asked, smacking you one last time as he slowly pulled out and rammed back in, forcing you to lurch forward and deep throat the man in front of you.

You gagged, making Joker laugh at your expense. “I’m pretty sure that’s what she wanted.” He said, given your hair a gentle pull. You struggled to breathe, tears rolling from the corners of your eyes reflexively. You tried to back away from him to give yourself some sort of relief, walls clamping down tight on Benimaru behind you. He let out a small groan at the sensation, though he didn’t budge as you tried to push back on him.

“If only the Sisters that raised you could see you now. Choking on the dick of Holy Sol Temple’s number one enemy. I bet you’d get off that too, wouldn’t you, Sister?” Joker asked as he pulled his hips back enough to allow you to breathe. You shot him a pitiful glare at the taunt, grabbing his bare thigh and digging your nails into it angrily. They always loved to tease you when you were in no position to defend yourself. It could be so annoying.

The pain of your nails tearing at his skin was about on the same level as an insect bite. It was really insignificant to him, and therefore it didn’t cause him to correct his actions. He simply tightened his grip on your hair.

Beni started to move in and out of you at a quick and relentless place. Though he had been kind enough to let you adjust to his size, he wasn’t a total monster. He only started doing with his regular rhythm when he started to feel you relax around him. The muffled moans spilled from your mouth as your eyes rolled back. Any time he fucked you from behind he was always able to hit that sweet stop with his cockhead, the one that had you weak in the legs and gripping him dear life.

Both men highly enjoyed the sounds of you sputtering and crying for more, your words a garbled mess due to Joker’s length plowing into you at a matching speed. The first few times you three had indulged in one another, the rhythms were out of sync and almost awkward. But now, they had the routine down pat. They knew how the other one worked and could easily find the best way to compliment the other’s thrusts. This had Beni pushing in while Joker was pulling out and you stayed as still as you possibly could so that you wouldn’t impale yourself on either of them in a painful manner.

It felt like the pinnacle of symbiosis. Everyone works together for their own gain but not at the expense of the other. In the end no one would be left out or at a loss. You’d have to remember to thank Joker later for gathering the three of you together.

Beni let out a curse as he increased his pace, using one hand to push locks of sweaty hair from his eyes. Sometimes he was convinced that your body had been made for him. He fit inside of you like a hand in a perfectly tailored glove. The gentle squeeze of your kegels anytime he or Joker did something you found particularly pleasurable, whether it was tugging on your hair, slapping your ass, or degrading you with their words, just made him feel so damn good.

Any time he was buried in you, regardless of which hole it was, he always became devoid of any rational thought. The sex consumed all of you, the tension releasing with the exertion of their hips. Infiltrating the temple, investigating Hajima, life had just become so stressful lately. This was the only time any of you could truly just let go.

That familiar tight coil was winding itself up in your lower abdomen, the pressure building with every thrust as you took deep breaths through your nose. “Ahh, Sister,” Joker said through heavy breaths, “You better be a good girl and not swallow right away.”

Of course you knew what he meant, the way his thrusts became a little less in sync with Beni’s and a little more arrhythmic as he chased after his orgasm. He was the first to come, filling your mouth and throat with warm white seed. He pulled away, still holding onto your hair as you stuck out your covered tongue to show him, the white liquid spilling onto the mat beneath you as you were pounded from behind. Your moans were no longer muffled and were loudly filling the small room. No doubt other members of squad seven could hear you, not that you card any more. Konro was probably just shaking his head at his captain’s antics.

“Now swallow.” Joker instructed as he sat back on his heels. Your tongue retracted into your mouth and you swallowed every last drop that hadn’t fallen from your mouth. The blissed out look on your face was almost enough to make him hard again, your whimpers as you neared your peak, the needy look in your eyes. Nothing else mattered in this moment but the release.

You came with another loud cry, collapsing onto your chest as your arms gave out beneath you. Benimaru worked you through it, his balls slapping against your clit had you shaking and sobbing at the overstimulation. A moment later he was filling you up with his own seed, gobs of it gushing out around the base of his cock and onto your folds.

Joker moved to watch him pull out of you slowly so he could observe the gaping, leaky hole. He let out a low whistle at the sight. “Latom,” He said jokingly, folding his hands in prayer as Beni guided your hips down onto the ground. Benimaru rolled his eyes at his partner in crime, making sure to soothe the bruise skin of your ass with his rough hands.

“Get some rest, Sister.” Benimaru said solemnly as he got redressed. “Our investigation resumes tonight.”

You let out a low groan at the reminder, having totally forgotten that you were going back to Hajima headquarters to try and gather more information. “Fine, just let me take a nap first.” You grumbled sleepily. You couldn’t see the soft smile on his face as he glanced at Joker who nodded back in a silent response.

Benimaru maneuvered you to his futon with Joker’s help, covering you with a blanket so you could rest in peace. Then in a few hours it would be business as usual.

#benimaru shinmon #benimaru x reader #fire force #en en no shobotai #enen no shouboutai #fire force imagines #joker x reader #52 x reader #benimaru imagine #joker imagine

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thosewickedlovelies · 3 years ago

Text

we could be Dreamers - Prologue

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x GN!Reader

Rating: T

Summary: How this world came to be

Word count: 1,671

A/N: Hiii friends 🤗 soo there’s not really a lot of plot or Marcus Moreno :( here, but consider this a prologue/worldbuilding for a Marcus Moreno x reader fic I may eventually write lol. I’m really interested in how this universe got from The Adventures of Sharkboy and Lavagirl to We Can Be Heroes, because like. Sharkboy and Lavagirl were literally just some kid’s imaginary friends that somehow magically became real, so what does that mean for the other Heroics? Where did they come from?? So I kinda wanted to write something that would make you Think :) and explore the ramifications of such a transformed universe.

Consider my previous Marcus Moreno fic a prelude to this prologue 💗

It was a little unnerving sometimes, being in a room with so much power. No matter that this particular training arena at Heroics Headquarters was at least the size of an American football field- when all of the Heroics are gathered in the same confined space, focused on a single purpose, you can feel it. Like their power prances tauntingly in the corner of your eye, slipping away when you try to look directly at it. Like it winds through the air, worming its way into your veins, so your very blood breathes at you to run, run, run.

Not all of the individual Heroics gave off such uncanny vibes; some were simply ordinary people with extraordinary abilities. Techo-No, for instance, and his gift for creating fantastical gadgets. The implications of his works relevant to the world at large could be worrying, but he had limits. He was just a man. Determined, and creative (even more so with his son throwing ideas at him), but ultimately human.

Not like those with powers who’d been Dreamed.

Take Sharkboy. The temper for which he’d been infamous in his youth had cooled, but when he snapped, he did so literally- blade-sharp teeth an audible clash when he bared them in a ringing snarl. Any water in the room would roil and froth- but the most hair-raising sight was his eyes, tinged with the unreadable, abyssal blackness of his namesake. Focused with a predator’s calculation on the object of his fury. (It made you think that, ironically, his temper had cooled too much- concentrated into something as icy and merciless as the depths of the sea. Just as well his wife was a lava goddess).

It was well-documented that Sharkboy could influence his oceanic kin, seeing as he was half-shark himself. Some marine biologists postulated- in low voices- that fluctuation in his emotions could unknowingly influence shark activity no matter how far from the sea he was. But nobody at Heroics Headquarters had ever dared suggest attempting a study.

That you knew of, anyway. You wouldn’t be surprised if there was a classified government branch somewhere which dealt solely with more insidious studies of the Heroics. Their weaknesses. Ways to defeat them.

Just in case.

Sharkboy and his emotions had stabilized as his Dreamer matured, but not all Dreamers were so invested in the well-being of their creations, or of the world they inhabited and could inadvertently affect. It was suspected that not all Dreamers knew that they had Dreamed at all, that they unintentionally brought Dreams into being far from where they were located and simply never became aware. This resulted in some Dreamed individuals being...unstable. Incomplete, really. Brought forth from a child’s mind, a young person who didn’t yet fully grasp the complexities of existing in this world, or indeed, the intricacies of what made one human at all.

Dreamers were children, more often than not. Their imaginative abilities generally far outstripped those of adults, worn down as they were with the grind of building a real life. The younger the person, the more time and creativity they maintained. The fewer methods they possessed to process their struggles which were grounded in reality, and not their imaginations.

Despite the years that have passed, nobody quite knows what happened to lead up to the Incident. How a single young boy had imagined so powerfully that it had warped reality; how his imaginings had given him the ability to design the universe at will.

The Daydreamer.

Max, as he later insisted on being called. An almost disturbingly innocuous name for a boy who had changed the world. Who had all but envisioned himself into having terrific powers- and enabled others to do the same.

In the years following the Incident, Sharkboy and Lavagirl continued to visit him in secret (Later, scientists realized that this why they recorded occasional, inexplicable disturbances in seismic and marine activity). But it wasn’t long before a larger threat to the entire Earth appeared- and so did they. To defend the place which they declared to be their new home. Though they had been willed into existence to protect Planet Drool, as Max determined to relinquish his daydreaming abilities and by extension, his dreamworld, so did the planet and its life diminish. Their presence there was no longer required, they’d explained. But earth could still benefit from their protection- especially after the reality of the threat came to light.

Someone else had Dreamed.

It wasn’t clear who, or how, or what their intentions had been. But once it had been said, everyone was forced to acknowledge the truth of it- or at least, admit that there was no other explanation. The villain’s origins were not terrestrial in any previously established sense.

Anyone who had ever met a child could have a predicted it. Too many young people ended up feeling outcast, overlooked, by both their peers and adults in their lives. It should have been obvious from the way they whispered his name. Not Max- a moniker far too average and relatable- but what they reverently regarded as his true title. The Daydreamer. A near-holy figure who had changed the game for youths everywhere. Now they had a way to combat those who plagued them. A way to create or become the superheroes who previously only existed in comic books and TV shows.

Or some did, anyway. Individuals with the strength of will and heart to Dream weren’t rare, but they weren’t quite common, either.

The only truly neutral positive of the Dreamer evolution was that governments everywhere suddenly accepted the need for increased mental health resources. Designed to increase healthy socialization for all ages and give young people ways to process and communicate their emotional needs, such programs were approved seemingly overnight in schools from elementary to university aged. “Small town life” flourished, and many city quarters and apartment buildings took to implementing “community builders” or, less charmingly, “social facilitators”- positions designed to create cohesive areas of living and minimize the kind of isolation and negative feelings that could leave someone to Dream of improving their life.

Nowadays, not all super-powered individuals were Dreamed. The second generation of Heroics was a testament to that. As if the universe itself had reckoned with the self-inception of the Dreamers, and seen fit to provide reality-warping countermeasures of its own.

Less than a year after the Incident, babies with...unique qualities began to be born. Few and far between, it seemed at first. Whispered reports swept from far corners of the globe, a phone tree branching from frantic parents to anyone who could provide even the slightest bit of reassurance. It seemed like doctors everywhere were swapping glances, no one willing to admit what was happening- until a second Villain appeared.

Every incident report said the same thing: a baby started crying, and then the hostages were saved by a power outage. A wash of sparks that darkened half the city.

Webbed with red lightning.

You sneak a look at the fully grown Heroic now, the long braids of her ponytail slipping over the shoulder of her characteristic red training outfit. Red Lightning Fury flexes her fingers as she listens to the head trainer explain today’s exercise- the usual sort of ‘heroes versus villains’ battles, with you and your fellow specialists assisting as villains- but judging by the lack of the smell of ozone, she isn’t yet using her powers. Blinding Fast, on the other hand, appears to fritz in place every few seconds, and you guess he’s running invisible laps to pass the time. It’s hard to tell if that’s what’s causing Lavagirl’s hair to tendril like neon pink smoke even though she’s standing still; usually the hypnotic heat shimmer of her lava flow causes the effect naturally.

You stretch in place while team arrangements are announced. As the majority of the Heroics filter into the stands to wait for their match, the buzzing, writhing presence of their power fades, and you can breathe more easily.

A figure flickers into being beside you, and you jump. “Jeez, Visi! How many times have I told you not to do that?”

Having anticipated your reaction from the countless previous times she’s snuck up on you anyway, Invisigirl laughs. “You think you’d be used to it by now.” Your closest Heroic friend grins at you, all pearly teeth against smooth brown skin.

And she’s right, which is why you were so disgruntled. Having been caught unawares too many times by the invisible hero’s silent movements, you had once asked her to give you lessons. Her instruction had improved your own stealth immensely, and now that you knew what kind of signs to listen for, her attempts at startling you didn’t work nearly as often as they had. But- “It’s hard to focus on anything with all of your powers clogging up the air,” you grumble. The birthed heroes understood what you meant- they felt it too, the nagging hiss of something other in the Dreamed heroes’ energy.

Across the arena, it looks like Miracle Guy and Marcus Moreno are waiting to be your opponents. Interesting. Miracle Guy, with his Dreamed up Superman-like abilities, was the only one who had a way of seeing Invisigirl. What it was precisely, you couldn’t recall. You make a mental note to ask Visi later.

Marcus, however, telekinesis aside, is clearly meant to be the counter to your strengths. The two men are discussing intently, but as if feeling your assessing stare, Marcus glances over. He lifts his eyebrows at you in playful challenge, a hint of a smile quirking his shapely lips before he’s pursing them at his duel-mate again.

Suppressing the pleased flutter down your spine, you turn your attention to the task ahead as Invisigirl dips her head toward you. Planning something clever, you realize, intrigued by the glint in her eye. “Let’s talk strategy.”

When the starting bell rings, your partner vanishes, and your smile curves as sharp and gleaming as the blade in your hand.

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno fic #wcbh fic #wcbh #we can be heroes fic #we can be heroes #pedro pascal characters #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x you #let me know what you think!!!#🙈🙈🙈#and if anyone wants to help me dream up a plot for this...i have Some Thoughts

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thattimdrakeguy · 4 years ago

Note

Prompt: Bruce hugs Tim after Tim fought with Jack

Alright, fellas, gonna be honest. Got way into the whys and hows of the actual fight with Jack over the actual comforting hug with Bruce.

It’s in there, oh boy it’s there, but I’m curious to see if this thing even fits into a Tumblr post cause I don’t know what the limits are actually.

So uh,

Trigger Warnings for: Domestic Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Mentions of Drugs, Threats of the Police (is that a trigger warning? cause I feel like it should be nowadays), traumatization, and potentially more. Oh, and Alfred has a gun but idk if that falls into any triggers.

It’s not a “Jack is evil” fiction. I tried to stay away from that. But I didn’t try to not make him do something I did feel like he’d do at the same time. He never hits Tim, I’ll say that.

Hoping it’s not too bad. I feel it’s half decent. So ayy.

Wasn’t sure what to call it.

Maybe “Assumptions and Consequences” idk.

Also probably has lots of typos and grammar mistakes so sorry for that lol.

Tim Drake loved his dad. His biological mother had already died, and Jack was all Tim had. Dana Winters was only Jack’s girlfriend who was wanting to become Tim’s mother, but it hadn't happened quite yet. So Tim only had one parent left, and man, did it suck to have a parent sometimes when you’re Robin. All the lying from having to be Robin drove Tim mad some days. Plus neither of them were quite compatible with one another. Honestly how were they even related?

Jack thought Tim was a bad kid. Well, he didn’t, but look at the evidence. Tim kept sneaking out, leaving school early, getting into fights. That was a kid acting out if Jack ever knew, and Jack would blame himself, until he couldn’t be bothered about it. Was it Jack’s fault? Jack had a habit of forgetting it a day or two after an accident. So he never really did improve yet, despite saying he would.

But the thing was, Tim wasn’t a bad kid. He was a great kid; a really great kid. Tim Drake was Robin the Boy Wonder. Not that he was the most talented, or most efficient at being Robin, but Tim filled the job out well. Being a good kid as Robin, meant having to be a bad kid as Tim though. When Tim saw bad things happening, Tim had to disappear, for Robin to take a beating, and for Tim to keep the bruises.

One day it got too much for Jack to handle. Tim wasn’t even home yet, and Jack’s face was red. The man of the house kept pacing back and forth really considering what he had to do to contain Tim this time. In his sea of tension he started biting down on his fist to get out some of the anger but it wasn’t stopping. What would Tim’s mother think of Tim right now? All those years of Janet protecting Tim and coddling him, and all it took was--what a few years for Tim to turn into this? Janet would’ve been so disappointed in him.

Jack sat down in his recliner past midnight to wait for his son, and only seconds after the creaking sound of his chair did he hear the doorknob twisting on the opening door that must’ve been his son. Must’ve been a lazy day for Tim. Normally Tim would come in through the window of his bedroom. Jack was actually listening for a creak on the walls. After a quick sigh that came deep within the chest, Jack tossed down his remote swiftly onto the table making a loud smacking sound, as he stood up and turned around.

It was darkly lit like a shadowy alley way in the house. All Jack wanted to do was scare the crap out of Tim. He didn’t care how small Tim was, or how young he was, if Tim was so willing to let Jack be scared, Jack thought it only made sense for him to scare Tim right back to make it only fair. Jack grabbed a flashlight on the coffee table and shined it in the eyes of the small figure that stood right in his doorway. And he made sure to make himself seem as big as he possibly could. Standing up straight, broadening his shoulders, and holding his flashlight up higher.

He prepared his voice as something similar to Clint Eastwood. All he did all day was watch movies and take phone calls, and it really showed. “Tim, do you mind telling me, why in God’s green hell are you so damn f--” Jack quickly squinted his eyes. This wasn’t Tim he was looking at. It was Ariana Dzerchenko, and she was shaking in her boots, while Jack seemed disappointed it wasn’t his son. “What the hell are doing in my damn house?! You’re telling me at 3 A-#@!@#-M you don’t have anything better to do, then open my door when I never even gave you a key? My son isn’t even here. You trying to steal from me?” Jack went over to grab her arm after the brash accusation. “Get over here, I’m calling your Uncle.”

Ariana moved her arm away and backed outside, still shaking. She stared at Jack scared, and concerned. Ariana could tell he was disappointed for the wrong reasons

“Look, it’s either in my house and I call your uncle, and you take another foot and it’s the police.” grunted Jack. He stopped bothering doing the gravelly voice, but he was still oh-so-damned pissed. After Ariana didn’t bother making any move of any sorts, Jack relented and tried to talk a little more normal. “Do you know where Tim is?” he asked like it was only the afternoon and he happened to pass her in the park.

“N-no.” was the only word Ariana could manage to get passed her lips.

Jack’s brow lowered, and angled. “Then why are you here, Miss?” He took a step closer to Ariana. “And be honest.”

“T-Tim, uh, he, uh, he asked me to bring back this and put it on the kitchen counter.” the girl held up the house key. “And all he said to me was that he was going to be late. Really late, and that he didn’t want his dad to worry again.”

All Ariana could see of Jack was the way the shadows contoured around his aging face. Making him not even look human. It made him look paler, with black eyes and a still face that would barely move except when it got angrier.

“He tell you where he was?” Jack asked again as he turned his head to the left. His left ear was his good ear.

“No, sir. He just sounded...swollen-y.”

“Swollen?”

“Like he just got hit in the face again.”

“Did you hear anything else?”

“A really loud engine and some gunshots later when I called him. Look, Mister, I’m really worried about him too. I didn’t even want to come over here--but I was just--I was just hoping he’d be here again maybe. Do you know what he could be doing?”

“Hell no. At this point my son doesn’t tell me anything. All I can guess is that the son of mine, I spent all that money on, is dealing drugs, like my money isn’t good enough for him.”

“Drugs? Timmy? Drugs? I’m not his parent or anything, I’m just his friend, but Tim would never do anything like that. I think he’s in trouble in another way.”

“That’s what I thought, but somehow every week I’m getting a call from the school counselor telling me that my small-fry son is dealing with a bruise of some kind. They found him passed out in school one time, and I found dirt marks on the outside of his window. What kind of normal former-board-school-student do you hear about ending up like that?”

“But Tim went on for hours one time about how he hates drugs. He saw a kid with a bag of something and wouldn’t stop ranting for what felt like an hour. He--”

“Ari--”

“--wouldn’t ever--”

“You can go home, Ariana! And thank you for your time. I won’t tell the police, or your uncle. But just go home now.”

“I--” Ariana closed her eyes and realized she better just go. “Okay. Okay, I’ll...go. Just tell me Tim’s okay when he comes back. And--if it actually ends up being drugs...tell him--tell him we’re over.” she fled the scene not being able to handle it anymore.

Jack didn’t answer back, but he knew that she knew he wasn’t going to tell her anything that was going to happen. Once he heard a ruffling in the bush right where Tim’s room would be, he knew that the boy came home. Taking another chest deep breath he slowly walked to that wall where he saw Tim, and he used the flashlight on him for real this time.

That middle parted bowl cut, and baby-face were impossible to misidentify. His already large eyes grew larger and he looked like he saw an entire army of ghosts coming for his head. Sneaking into his own house was something he’s done dozens of times. Tim loved sneaky time, but this time he thought he really messed it up. His Robin career and life flashed right in front of his eyes.

Nothing in Jack’s mind resembled pleasant. Everything was fire and disappointment. Actually seeing his son in the act of sneaking around outside, when he should be in bed made everything he thought felt true as the solution to a math problem. Just like the outlaws in the westerns he watched, Jack narrowed his eyes as he paid attention to his target. He really needed to get outside himself fast.

Tim gasped, as his mind had no thoughts besides a realization that his dad finally caught him sneaking in. “Dad?!” he uttered before being grabbed by the collar of his sweater.

“So you finally decided that my house is better than whatever alley you've been laying in every night?” pushing himself closer to Tim, Jack made it so the only thing he could see of Tim was the panic in his baby blue eyes.

Meanwhile, all Tim could see was the anger in his dad’s face. “W-what are you talking about?!” Tim’s voice cracked. He knew his dad thought something was going on, but he never imagined it’d be this intense. He could break the grip on Jack at any time, but would Jack find that even more suspicious? Tim still had Dana thinking he was too small to play football. Could Jack believe Tim would be able to take down someone over a foot his own size?

“The drugs, Tim. The drugs.” The hoarseness to Jack’s voice was painful. If his hand was around Tim’s neck and not just his collar, he’d be strangling the kid. “I've been staying up each night for the past three days waiting for you to come home. To have a fatherly chat, but all I ever hear is you sneaking up the wall, and I’ve had enough of that. I try to be a father, and you just try to treat me like an obstacle. Is all I am to you, is in your way, Tim? I paid for your freaking ninja camp, and it ends within a week of you being there. If the people running the camp didn’t end up in jail, I’d have the mind to ask them what you exactly did there. A fake piercing, and fake stubble to look tougher? I’d be real curious to know where exactly a 14-year-old kid can buy a fake stubble.”

Tim was really doing his best to try and seem calm. If he didn’t everything would get much worse. Then it donned on him that he was treating his own dad like he would a master criminal in the middle of a breakdown. “Dad, I really know this looks bad. I really do. Trust me. But this isn’t at all like what it seems.”

“Answer me immediately: If I searched your room would I find drugs? Narcotics? Booze?”

Booze. Tim could smell the booze in his dad’s breath. If Tim showed up just a bit earlier it wouldn’t have been this bad. And you know Tim would beat himself up over that when he shouldn’t.

“No, you wouldn’t find anything of the sort. I need you to listen, I’m going to need you to let go of me, and put down the light. It’s hurting me.” Another half second passed where Tim’s brain suddenly tried to process this. And like someone running away from the scene, it hurt too bad to stay on it. “I don’t deal drugs...I--I stop people from selling drugs!” Even in a moment like this, not having to lie for once felt like a weight off of Tim’s shoulders.

The man standing above Tim was about to blind him with that flashlight, but he eventually dropped Tim down onto the wet and muddy grass below them. Where he left him lay and to get mud all over his clothes without any sense of regret. Jack could only think of his late wife. Which seemed rare ever since he got to know Dana better. Strangely, this Janet that Jack was remembering seemed to be a lot more on his side than anyone that knew them back then would remember.

“Don’t talk down to me.” said Jack in an uncomfortably soft voice. “I let you stay in my house because I loved you enough to let you. Your room is my property, everything in there was bought with my money.” The pace he spoke was slow and methodical. His mind was quiet and released. “I am going to look in your room. You’re going to stay here, and when I come back to you. I’ll decide then what’s going to happen to you.”

Should Tim speak? Should he not? What was better right then? When he heard Jack talk about his room, he wasn’t worried about the punishment he’d have to deal with. All he was worried about was any proof about being Robin. That wasn’t just Tim’s own secret to keep. It was a secret he had to share, and was honored to share.

“I--I can’t let you do that, sir.” another voice crack from the kid.

“I bet I know why.” spoke Jack with full eye contact. To him he wasn’t lying to himself. It was a fact he had to find the evidence for. “Let it be known by the way, that I don’t hate you. I’m scared for you. But you also make it awfully hard to love you lately.”

That was one hit Tim couldn’t dodge.

Being 3 AM not too many people were able to witness any of this happening, except for one particular neighbor in Alfred Pennyworth. He was tidying up around the side windows on the second floor when he could see some sort of commotion at the Drake residence. Using binoculars like a bird watcher that exclusively looks for Robins, he saw Tim on the ground and Tim’s dad above him. That wasn’t going to fly past anyone in Stately Wayne Manor.

Very quickly he let Bruce know that Tim needed help and why. It’d only take a few minutes for him to return to his home, but it felt crucial. Tim needed a father figure that felt like he’d protect him, and not vilify him. In no world is Batman the best for the job of dad, but he gave it his best unlike Jack.

Outside it was wet from the harsh rain earlier in the evening. Most of the lights in the neighbors were out, signifying they had gone to sleep. A foot felt like a yard when everything was so quiet and dark.

So though the owner of the manor wouldn’t exactly appreciate it, Alfred brought a small fire-arm in the inner pocket of his suit jacket just in case things went worse. Very quickly he rushed his way over to Tim, making it just after Jack entered the Drake residence again. Tim still seemed in such a shock that he didn’t even try to get himself up.

In his head, Tim meant to go after his dad, but his mental legs just gave out on him. Leaving him to sit in the mud as he panics about what could happen next. He recounted where all of his Robin stuff was. During his messy messy thoughts he was almost certain that it was all on, wearing it under his clothes. Confidence was never Tim’s highest attribute though. Normally it was his perceptiveness, but it was failing him. He was lucky he could still recognize Alfred.

“Alfred?” said a confused Tim who was dazed more and more as the night went on.

“Young Master Timothy, are you alright?” greeted the Butler as he helped Tim up to see his feet. “I didn’t see everything, but I saw everything I needed to.” He quickly noticed a bruise on Tim’s cheek. “Young sir, did he do this to you, or was it another person?”

“Who’s ‘he’?” Tim’s eyes widened and looked past Alfred. “Dad?”

Alfred may have been an older man, but he wasn’t a man you should bother trying to stand taller than. The quiet, noble man turned around promptly and stood his ground and he saw fit. Only reaching his hand in, just in case, with no intent on striking first. When Alfred turned around to see the returning Jack, there wasn’t any cowardice within him. Former British Secret Service agent Alfred Pennyworth could get the drop on anyone if he tried hard enough, besides those with powers. Tim’s dad wasn’t someone with powers, so Alfred had his number ready just in case.

Jack on the other hand only had a vague sense of right and wrong keeping him from hurting anyone. Just sick of the lies, and obvious sneaking around. Whoever thought Jack was a good dad never really saw enough of him.

“Who--Are you--are you Wayne’s butler? Did he call you?” Jack asked, pointing at Tim. “The kid’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about. He’s just being sensitive.”

“Jack Drake, I want to let you know that I am not a blind man, nor an easily fooled man. And that all I see when I look into the eye’s a man such as you, that all I see is an inner-pain that I’ve seen nearly everyday since my eyes could first see, and my mind could first retain thought. All you do is feel bitter, distract yourself, and in the moments where you can’t, you take it out on everyone else. If I look at the ground behind me, I can see a very brave boy have a fear so bad that he didn’t even want to get out of the mud. Either meaning he’s about to be killed, or he’s being traumatized, and I don’t see a gun in your hand. So sit down and get some rest, and think about it. While I’ll take young Timothy with me where he’ll be safe for the night, sir.”

“You know I’m not going to let you do that.” growled Jack.

“Then allow me to let you know that in my inner jacket pocket I have a firearm that you know I’ll use. Not to aim at your head, but below the waist where, if you don’t already know, it won’t count for attempted murder.”

“I’ll call the cops on you then, you bum. You’ve freeloaded on Wayne before that man could walk. To this city you’re nobody but the guy that used to wipe Wayne’s ass.”

“I’m mighty gracious I don’t have any worry of convincing you of anything. The reputation I actually do have serves me enough just fine. As for...your reckless statement on the police, I should let you know we have cameras showing everything that happened. You wouldn’t be the one winning in court.” Alfred didn’t look pleased when he took another glance at Tim who was struggling to process any of this. Alfred was there in the same home Tim was in when he found out his mother died. This wasn’t something Alfred enjoyed doing. “You can come with me now, Timothy. We’ll figure this out, alright?”

Surprisingly, Jack let them walk away. Jack wasn’t an evil man. But not being evil doesn’t equal being good. Life was just complicated, and so was he. Did he regret his actions? Well, he isn’t a monster. Of course he did--Well, maybe he did. Who really freaking knew. But did he know why exactly he did if he had? Not quite. Was he going to get better? There was going to be a while before that’d happen.

Inside Tim’s own heart he felt dead. The remains of his biological family seemed to break down into crumbs of dust. Where was home anymore? Jack didn’t say he wasn’t allowed to come back home, but the message was made plenty clear that he couldn’t go back home easily. Actually, Tim didn't know if he wanted to go home after that. Even for such a great detective, Tim had no clue what his dad was going to be like after that.

Mud. Ew, the mud. It was all over Tim’s clothes and hands from his fall. It certainly wasn’t going to help Tim’s mood.

“Young Master Timothy, I think it’d be in your best interest to get a bath and relax. You can give me your clothes for me to wash, and I’m sure we have some of your clothes around here somewhere for you to lay around in.” he stated as he opened the door to Stately Wayne Manor for Tim.

Tim barely said any words, and said none of all during the walk to the Manor. “Oh, okay, Alfie.” Even his tone of voice seemed down on himself.

Seeing Tim so frozen stiff over it was breaking Alfred’s heart bit by bit. He’s seen Tim shake in fear, he’s seen him panic, but never frozen. This really was different. It was obvious it would be, but seeing it in person is always a different feeling. As they went up stairs you wouldn’t know Tim was an athlete. Alfred saw how natural Tim was at acrobatics in front of his own eyes, and now he saw the young boy struggling going up stairs.

Batman wasn’t able to make it till after Tim was in the bath. So he’d have to wait a bit to speak with him. He took off his cowl and how upset he was, was immediately evident. He had a stubble covered frown, and was breathing heavily, which was odd since he came home in the Batwing. As someone who stops domestic disturbances like this when he has to, he was fuming.

“We have to do something about Jack Drake, Alfred.” said Bruce drinking the tea Alfred gave them, as they waited for Tim in the kitchen.

“Something involving the courts may I assume?” assumed Alfred.

Bruce shook his head. “No. At least not yet, unfortunately.”

“Sir, but we have the evidence. There’s no doubt we’d win.”

“He’s still Tim’s father. That means something, and is a bond that’s hard to break, and shouldn’t be broken.”

“If I was only a second or two late, I would say it’s accurate to assume Mister Jack Drake was going to strike Timothy. He reeked of liquor and tossed him onto the ground.”

“But he didn’t hit him. Sounding harsh isn’t my imperative. But accusing a child of doing something they didn’t do, wouldn’t classify as anything that’d allow Tim to leave. And again, Tim and Jack are family. We shouldn’t break a family. That isn’t a good goal to set.”

“Are you really defending a man that didn’t bother to raise his own son, that he threatened with boarding school over something he should be more sympathetic with, and berates him when Tim actually acts his own age? People can change, Master Wayne, but when people are constantly given chances, those chances should run out eventually.”

“What would you suggest, Alfred? I’m doing what's best for Tim in my eyes. If we took him from his dad he’d hate us forever. Once Tim is able to function properly again, he’ll just look at it like another incident in his life. He’ll want to go back whether he wants to or not, because in his heart he loves his father.”

“Please forgive me for what I’m about to say, Master Wayne. But your over glorification of genetic parents because of the death of your own seems to have left you forgetting that whether biological or not, your family isn’t truly who’s related to you by blood.” Alfred sighed having to speak in such a rough way. “You’ve brought in Master Grayson as your ward, and Master Todd as your son. Family is who you bring in close and who you choose to stay with, and if you all care for one another. Sir, you know this best. And I’m not forgetful that they had no parents left when you brought them in, but don’t forget that just because they live right beside your home that damage isn’t being done to a child.”

The chair Bruce was sitting on squeaked as he moved back to stand up. He made his way up the stairs to where Tim was getting a bath. He took a deep breath, and took a moment to consider his actions, and knocked on the door.

“Tim--Tim are you decent? I’d like to speak to you about what happened. Now, it doesn’t have to be right this moment. Take any moment you need. But we need to know if--”

In a quick unhesitating moment, the door opened, and Tim never looked smaller to Bruce. The vulnerable look in his eye mixed with the oversized sweater he had on. The kid was still damp from a poor job drying himself, but it didn’t stop him from leaping at Bruce and putting his arms around him for a hug. Tim rested his head on Bruce’s chest as it was the highest he could reach, and he squeezed as hard as he could. A slight tear went down Tim’s face. Did he hear Alfred and Bruce? In the moment it didn’t matter, and Bruce hugged him back in a fatherly embrace. Neither of them knew what to do.

As the hug continued on longer Bruce lifted Tim into the air in a similar matter as Jack and Tim as Tim went to make sure they were okay during No Man’s Land. Would Tim remember that and choose to stay with Jack? Did Tim still believe Jack would get better? Or would Bruce’s rare act of physical affection convince Tim to tell everything he knew to make a case to stay with Bruce? Did it even matter yet?

It felt like a part of Tim’s life died, but as an era of your life is killed, another is born. Something new you have to make the best out of. Maybe the era will stay and it’ll get better, or maybe not. The future was a mystery, and could be scary. If it wasn’t then people wouldn’t be pretending to be fortune tellers. Sometimes though, it’s best just to remember and focus on the present.

“I love you, R--um, Tim. I hope you know this. I care about you, and want to protect you for as long as I can, and if needed I’m absolutely willing to--” Bruce was cut off by a still tearful Tim.

“I love you too, Bruce.”

#Tim Drake #Robin #Alfred Pennyworth #Jack Drake #Bruce Wayne #Batman #Fan fics #Fan fictions

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blackcherrykiss · 4 years ago

Text

BLOOD BOUNDARIES - Enhypen OT7 Fanfic (ch.6)

[CH.1] [CH.2] [CH.3] [CH.4] [CH.5] previous chapters

[CH.7] next chapter (unavailable, check back or follow for updates!)

genre: vampire au, romance, drama, mystery, thriller

note: written inspired by enhypen's storyline, given-taken lyrics & teasers. please keep in mind all members are apart of this fanfic and the main theme is mystery/drama!

*P.S swear words are used (i try not to use them often lol but i feel they added to the emotion in the dialogue) the beginning lowkey not proofread sorry happy readings!

"I sensed you were here." He commented sternly as he stood up from the piano bench.

You stepped back, "Y-you just play really well... Didn't mean to be a creep." You get shy with shivers after realizing he knew you were around. From what you recall, you were absolutely silent.

His wordless response was a cold signal to leave. And so you did. Whipping your head back behind you to see people begin to exit their rehearsal rooms. You left Jay alone as he probably wished, mindlessly waiting for your roommates to storm out. The doors along the hall were now wide open so that you could search the rooms. Like a scavenger hunt, you went in and out of each music room, clueless as to which one you would find your friends in.

"Y/N?" You hear Hyesun before you could even step foot into one of the larger sized rooms along the hall. You slung your head up in surprise to see your roommates chatting with faces you were tired of seeing.

"Long time no see." Heeseung visibly bit down on the tip of his tongue causing your emotions to run wild. You were irked to see Nana, Hyesun and Dahee (in case you forgot these are the names of y/n's dormmates) with Jaeyun, Heeseung and Sunghoon.

"Haha..." You laugh uncomfortably at the overwhelming mixture of people.

"We were just thinking about having a party before the upcoming long weekend," Sunghoon plastered a dark smile that you found strangely annoying. He had some corrupt aura and every bit of your gut felt alarmed by him.

"Jungwon is in the next room over, you should ask him to come here," Dahee said calmly and reassuringly. If anything all of your roommates looked unexpectedly comfortable and relaxed in the presence of some of the school's hottest boys. You imagined your friends to be flustered since they had secretly fangirled to you about them during late-night girl talks. It seemed they had become genuine friends instead of fangirls. It made you question your intuition and trust issues. Maybe it was just you overreacting and these boys were friends, not threats.

Nodding your head, you run off to where Dahee had mentioned Jungwon was. Chasing until you met a closed door with a dim light shining through its' crystallized glass. Listening close you could hear Jungwon sing softly through the door, making your heart rate rise a bit. Like a fool, your heart was going in circles. You focus your eyes through the bits of glass that didn't distort your vision to see Jungwon in pure grace.

"He sings pretty well doesn't he?" You felt a whisper brush the conch of your ear. Not even bothering to see who the whisper belonged to, you agreed.

"Yeah... I've never heard him sing before." You blush at yourself, finally taking a look to see who you were even talking to.

Your gaze met a pair of sharp cut out eyes, "If I heard a person sing like that, I'd be convinced I'm in love with them." Kim Sunoo taunted, trying to make it obvious that your feelings of interest were on full display, even to a stranger. "You might get hurt though, being in love with Jungwon." His voice was a deep frequency that hummed in the bloodstream of your ears.

"Why would it hurt?" Your curiosity getting the best of you.

"He's capable of things you don't want to imagine," Sunoo fakely sighed, his breath hitting the side of your neck. "Jungwon's truly a bad boy. Playing around such a delicate flower." And with that said, Sunoo swung the door right open.

Jungwon abruptly stopped mid sentence, startlement creating a pale cast over his face, "Y/N? What are you doing here?" Jungwon laughed a bit to himself, a little embarrassed after the fact you had probably heard him sing.

"She was standing outside since the beginning of the song." Sunoo smiled smugly before walking out, leaving you in the icy room alone with Jungwon.

"I didn't want to interrupt... That's not even the point... I came to tell you that my dormmates are in the other room talking with the guys."

"The guys?"

"You know... Sunghoon and them... I-I'd really appreciate if you were just there Jungwon." You were sincere because, for some reason, he looked lonely. You would also really feel more at ease with Jungwon around and you hoped your sincerity reached him.

Jungwon had put on a concerned face before dropping it, realizing he was overreacting."Oh. Alright... I'll be there in a few minutes." Jungwon got up, shuffling his sheet music stand into a neat stack that hid in the corner. He had responded in a way that was much calmer than you expected. Perhaps you were expecting him to lash out about being around his friends?

"But Jungwon I want to ask you something..." You hated the secrets between the two of you, it was a mystery game you didn't want to play anymore, "Can you just explain what your relationship with Sunoo... Not even Sunoo, the rest of the guys."

He stopped in his tracks, knowing you were tired of his lies. "We're all orphans from the same orphanage. We just never got adopted." He spoke bluntly in a cold and rushed tone. His answer was enough to have you not ask any more questions about their relationship as it seemed too personal and insensitive of you to keep asking. "Since we were all too old to stay at the orphanage, some social workers came and took us to live in a house together. The house is just on the outskirts of the school but we only go there for long weekends and breaks when there is nobody on campus..." The realization of when Jungwon had said Heeseung was his dormmate came back to you. "They're like my brothers. But, some bad things happened to them in an incident we had a couple of years back at this carnival.. We were never the same after that." Jungwon had gotten somewhat emotional blurting it all out. He had choked up as you heard his words full of frustration built up in his throat. When you looked deeper into him, you found your heartache as his eyes glittered with tears.

"I-I trust you Jungwon. I'm so sorry I must've put you in an uncomfortable situation." You felt like an awful human being hearing his story.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm being too protective with you over those guys. I'm sorry about that. I just see you and get worried. They've become bad people..." He slid his fingertips from his forehead up until they tangled with the roots of his hair, closing his eyes to conceal his emotions.

You could've just hugged him right then seeing him in the midst of crying but your mind was a haze, foggy with not wanting to cross the unspoken boundaries between the two of you. The skinship of hugging was still considered too much for your friendship and you weren't openly ready to have the feelings of endearment that come with carrying out such an intimate gesture. You knew by being in such close distance with him would make you a fool for love.

"I think we should go to the others." You darted with a sudden wall forming between the both of you. You shuddered in pain with your cold remark after Jungwon had just revealed something so deep and vulnerable to you. Even if Jungwon had just told you an intimate part of his identity it was like he became more of a stranger to you. It seemed everything Jungwon was saying was quite true but still Sunoo's words had scarred your subconscious of falling in love with him or even merely liking him. Jungwon had said the boys were bad people but what excluded him from them?

You made your way back, leaving Jungwon to be alone and cool down from whatever you had just made him think of. Every second, regretting you didn't just wrap your arms around him and comfort him. Had it not been for Sunoo, maybe you would've trusted there was nothing more to what Jungwon than what he had just said.

"Did you find Jungwon?" Dahee lifted her eyes off of Sunghoon to yours. You got deja vu when you saw Sunghoon staring at Dahee with the same eyes he used during the commotion at the library.

"Yeah, I think he's just packing up his stuff right now..." You gulp awkwardly as everyone had settled into smaller groups. You think your eyes were deceiving you when you noticed Sunoo now in the room, being quick to withdraw from the conversation he was having with Hyesun and Nana to approach you.

"You don't look well. Something happen between you and Jungwon?" A wicked bubble of laughter rising in his chest.

"Not at all..." It was half true half not. Nothing had really happened mentally or physically but emotionally, there was something.

"Interesting because I was just asking those two girls about you and Jungwon. It seems you two are a lot closer than I anticipated."

"We're just friends, we're just getting closer these days."

"Sweetheart, he's not really trying to be your friend, right? He's just using you like how these boys are doing with your girl friends right now."

"Using us? Using me? Our relationship isn't that shallow. Maybe your dimwit friends would do that but I know Jungwon." You were offended by his assumption, who was Sunoo to claim such an idea?

"What makes you think you know him?" Sunoo laughed gravely at your statement. "I've heard a lot about you from Heeseung and Jaeyun, Y/N." Sunoo used your name. It seemed you both knew each other's names without having to directly say it or formally introduce yourselves.

"I'm flattered I'm that pretty enough to them that they would talk about me, Kim Sunoo." You used his name in the same power he had used yours in a sentence.

"More than just pretty, you should watch yourself. The pretty girls of this school don't last very long in this school."

"And why is that?"

"I think you'll find out soon enough." Sunoo snickered while swaying himself up and away after looking at the doorway.

"It looks like a party in here." Jay had entered with an arm hanging around Jungwon. You hadn't realized how packed the room was until Jay mentioned it.

"Yeah and we're planning one right now." Heeseung spat in a jokingly annoyed tone at Jay.

"A party???" He laughed, "If the school finds girls with us outside school grounds or even near the dorm we'll all be fucking expelled." Jay raised his scratched brow in interest as to Heeseung's response.

"Yeah as if the teachers are even awake super late at night. Literally, no one monitors the halls at night." Heeseung let out an airy scoff from across the room. You and your roommates were all flustered at the plan of a party so late at night. You were embarrassed your mind was even in that direction. "Our place is not far from here Jay, calm the fuck down."

"H-hey I think us girls will head off to eat, we'll settle the plans another time." Nana made eye contact with all the girls as a signal to exit. It seemed the mood took a bitter turn when Jay had entered.

It was an awkward scurry out the door as Nana pulled Hyesun with her. You shortly followed, looking behind you to see Jungwon give a lifeless stare at the ground. Your eyes focusing in on Sunghoon who whispers ever-so closely to Dahee. Whatever he told her, it tinted her face a plush pink.

"Dahee let's go." You glared at Sunghoon before putting on a sweet smile toward Dahee. You couldn't just watch Sunghoon act like such a flirt to Dahee, not when you knew something was also going on between him and Kyungeun.

...

Dahee hums beside you as Nana and Hyesun walk in front. The four of you were quiet, not one of you bringing up the encounter with the boys.

"Do you guys actually want to have a party with them?" You interrupt the silence.

"Y/N they are the hottest guys at our school, do you think we're going to pass on the opportunity?" Hyesun answers.

"Jaeyun told me he and Heeseung could get a couple of drinks from the town over the weekend." Nana added.

"Drinks?! How? Were literally all minors?!" You freaked out like a child.

"Not sure... I do admit though... I'm scared we'll get caught." Nana admitted making you feel reassured knowing she was leaning more toward not having a party.

"What else did you guys already discuss about the party?" You asked, hungry for the details.

"Apparently they've got a place really close by to here. I guess they live together?" The thought of what Jungwon had said to you earlier about the boys all being orphans came back to you.

"Where exactly is there place?"

"Somewhere in the woods of school." _________ author here lol just want to check in and make sure everyone remembers everything from the very first chapter :-) i told you guys that stuff mentioned in early chapters have big significance in the later chapters! Also feel so bad there are so many characters to keep track of LOL I will make a profile of all the characters once everyone is introduced.

Please leave feedback if you have any and thank you for being patient!

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fandomfoodiedancer · 4 years ago

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If these walls could talk

Pairing: Calum x reader x Luke

Summary: Fallen Angel Luke is in love with the reader, but doesn’t think he has a chance, especially as your boyfriend is Demon Calum, so what happens when he walks in on the two of you having sex and gets invited to join in?

Warnings: smut, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, p in v, just pwp

A/N: Hi, this is my first fanifc (and first smut lol) so please be kind! I would love if you reblogged or liked this, and feels free to message me through dm’s or asks! x

Exhausted from a long day of work, Luke trudged down the hall of your shared apartment, headed for his room.

“Oh fuck!” Hearing your soft voice moan made Luke worried something bad could have happened. Without thinking to simply call out, he rushed to your room, opening your bedroom door.

“Oh fuck Calum, that feels so good” you mewled as Calum knelt on the bed behind you, pounding you at a fast pace.

Sensing Luke by the door Calum looked up at him, his eyes flashing black as he stopped his movements to smirk at the timid angel.

“Aw angel. Cat got your tongue?” Luke didn't know what to say, what to think. “How about I make this simple for you, you come and join us, and we'll show you a good time”. Calum's smirk grew with that statement, watching as Luke grew more unsure of himself.

He was a fallen angel. He knew he would never be allowed back in heaven, not after what had happened a few years ago, causing him to fall to earth where he met and befriended you, becoming best friends and flatmates soon after. However Calum had always proved a problem, ever since he started dating you. Albeit not the most vile of demons, Cal was still dark as well as a constant dick in general. All Luke wanted in this world was you, yet here was Calum, rubbing it in his face that he could never have you.

Or could he? Yes, he was still an angel, and this was a sin if it wasn't an act of pure love, he couldn't betray heaven again, could he?

Getting impatient you start to push yourself back onto Calum's cock, desperately needing release. Watching you so desperate, practically begging Cal to keep fucking you with your soft little moans, Luke made up his mind. Fuck it. He wasn't going to back to heaven, may as well enjoy the sin.

“Can I join you?” His voice was more confident than he felt.

“Fuck yes” Calum grinned, knowing he had just tempted an angel.

Pulling away from Cal, you stalked towards Luke, hooking your arms around his neck and leaning up to whisper in his ear to kiss you. He didn't need to be asked twice. Grabbing behind your thighs, he picked you off the ground, legs around his waist as he kissed you with all the pent up passion he had been holding all these years.

When you both ran out of breathe he lay you on the bed, kissing down your body.

“You're so soft and gentle compared to Calum, Lu” you murmured as he kissed your neck.

“You deserve to be worshipped y/n. You're a queen but uncrowned.” You moaned at his soft words, words that coming from an angel felt like heaven itself. Getting impatient, Calum joined you both on the bed.

“How do you want this babe?” The sound of Calum's voice mixed with Luke's kisses caused another involuntary moan to escape your lips.

“I want you in my mouth baby, and I want Luke's mouth on my pussy” Luke froze at your dirty words. Was he actually doing this? Looking up at your soft face, he knew he would do anything for you. Cal chuckled at Luke's concern before gazing intently as the angel kissed his way down your body.

Shuffling into an easier position for the three of you, you lay your head off the bed, ready to take Calum in your mouth as Luke hooked his arms around you thighs, staring at your wet pussy.

“Luke, please. I need you to touch me.”

That was all it took for Luke to dive in, lapping at you like his life depended on it. Before you could cry out at the feeling of such intense pleasure, Calum tapped your lips with his cock before pushing into your mouth and slowly thrusting in and out as you swallowed around him. Luke slowly slipped a finger into you, which soon became two fingers, pumping into you whilst sucking your clit, swirling his tongue around it. That mixed with Calum's cock in you mouth had you embarrassingly close.

“I think our little slut is close, angel. If you keep going like that she'll cum.” Smugness mixed with pride laced Calum's voice as he kept fucking your throat.

You couldn't hold back anymore. The mix of Calum in your mouth and Luke's mouth licking and sucking whilst he fingered you was sheer bliss and you came hard, as Luke and Calum kept going, working you through your first orgasm of the night.

Breathing heavily, you shrugged the angel and demon off you, needing to catch your breath.

“I think we did well angel, but if you think that was fun, just wait 'til your inside her. Wet walls fucking squeezing you until you think she'll burst, but so needy she keeps going anyway. Why don't you give it a try? See if you can really fuck her, give in to your desires, give her what she wants.” Eyes flashing black again Calum stared at Luke, challenging him, tempting him. And fuck if it didn't turn both of them on. Luke knew he'd fell from grace, that going down this path he would just keep falling, but the way you rolled your hips whilst staring at him had him ripping his clothes off in record time, ready to give in.

Hovering over you, Luke lined himself up at your entrance, staring into your y/c eyes, hardly believing what he was going to do. Leaning down as if to kiss you, he softly asked.

“Ready love?” Even in such a sinful setting, he was still such a sweetheart. That's one of the things you loved about him. You'd kept it a secret since the start, never believing that an angel would like you, never thinking you could love both an angel and a demon, but here you were. Lying naked on your bed, having Luke kiss you so passionately and speak so softly, about to have sex with you, whilst Calum stood there, watching on the sidelines as the angel fell for you further.

“I'm ready, Luke.” That was all it took. Kissing you gently, Luke eased himself into you. You gasped at his size but moaned when you heard Calum whisper “oh sin again bright angel”.

Hooking your legs around Luke's waist, you curled one hand in his golden hair and the other in the sheets. You rolled you hips, signalling to him that you needed him to move. Slowly and carefully Luke started to thrust into you, groaning when you clenched around him.

“Fuck” he whispered more to himself, but Calum heard.

“Feels good doesn't she? That feeling of holding her close as you pound into her, wet walls clenching just for you. Well, and for me of course. Knowing that the little slut is so needy and desperate, that she would do anything for you. And trust me when I say anything” He caught your eye and winked. “You don't know the half of it Lukey.”

Something about the nickname ignited something in him. Soon Luke was pounding into you, almost as fast as Calum had been earlier, yet somehow he still held you with a gentleness. Looking over at Cal, you knew you needed him, and from the looks of his rock-hard cock which was leaking pre-cum, he needed you too.

“Calum, I need you too. Please. I want to make you feel good, want to make you cum baby.” Without missing a beat, he was in front of you, cock in your mouth thrusting into you in time with Luke. The feeling was that of heaven, but the sounds of both theirs and your moans was that of pure sin itself. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to that edge fro the second time tonight, and evidently Luke could too, as his hand which had rested on your hip, was now sneaking its way between your legs where it had started to rub your clit. With Luke inside you and Calum in your mouth, let alone the feeling of Luke's fingers on your clit mixed with Calum's groans, you scream around Cal as you came harder than you ever had before.

Working you through your orgasm, Calum pulled out and after a couple of pumps came all over your chest as Luke came inside you, eventually pulling out of your over-sensitive pussy.

Catching your breathe you saw Luke smile contently, only to have Calum gather a towel to clean you up.

Unsure of what to do now, Luke decided it would be best to clear his head and take a shower to clean up. Before he could go though, Calum reached out, grabbing his wrist to stop him.

“Where are you going?”

“I'm going to take a shower. Clean up.”

“You didn't think we were done, did you?” Calum raised an eyebrow at Luke.

Luke knew he'd fell from grace, that with them both, he would keep falling. There was only one thought left in his mind; if walls could talk, he hoped they wouldn't say anything. Especially after tonight.

#calum hood x reader #luke hemmings x reader #calum x reader x luke #fandomfoodiedancerwrites

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forevercloudnine · 4 years ago

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batman forever riddlebat ship meme

(This one was inevitable. God, do I love this movie. @heroes-etc gave me questions from this ship meme.)

2. Who is the most insecure and what makes them feel better?

The obvious answer here is Edward because he is... clearly and pathologically insecure in his identity and requiring outside approval. You could argue he gets over this once he adopts his flamboyant supervillain identity, but as soon as he steps out of it to be Edward Nygma again he’s as self-conscious as ever. On some level his Bruce cosplay at the Nygmatech party is probably supposed to be a dig at his former idol, but it’s pretty transparent that he’s paranoid about not measuring up, especially once Bruce actually walks in.

As for what makes him feel better, two obvious high points of his self-esteem right off the bat (lol) are when Bruce is giving him positive attention in his intro scene, and directly afterwards when he’s murdering his boss for ragging on him.

Of course, neither external validation or murder is, like, a permanent solution to insecurity. Obviously. If they ever got together Bruce would probably make him go to therapy, which would be incredibly hypocritical because, as Dr. Meridian points out in this movie, that’s not exactly something Bruce is doing. Although in Bruce’s defense, if you count the novelizations as canon for this continuity, the psychiatrist Alfred hired for him as a child basically wrote him off as a lost cause that was going to inevitably self-destruct at some point in adulthood. So I can see why he’d think therapy isn’t for him.

"Young Bruce may seem quite the stalwart, but there’s still a child beneath that veneer of calm acceptance [...] The day will come when that veneer crumbles, and the boy reacts to the memory of his ordeal. Such matters may be postponed, but not indefinitely. And the longer this one is delayed, the greater the damage will be to his psyche.”

“Still,” Alfred pressed. “How do you think this will all come out? Off the record, if you prefer.”

Another pause. “I am not terribly optimistic,” the stout man admitted. “But I assure you, I will do my best.”

Alternatively, Bruce just lets Edward borrow his clothes and calls it a day. It’s less time consuming than therapy and both the movie and novelization demonstrate how into that Edward is.

He was murmuring to himself, “We’ll probably be dining at Wayne Manor together.” He envisioned Bruce sitting across from him, and began to launch into a narrative [...] “Yes. Yes. A Party in my honor? I should have rented a tuxedo. What?” he couldn’t believe it, “One of yours, Bruce?” He gave it a moment’s thought and then shrugged. “Why not? We are the same size.”

3. Who is the most romantic?

Uh, not Bruce! Batman Forever is the most thoughtfully romantic he gets in the entire series, and even here his only two dates ideas are “whatever Gotham social event my secretary tells me I need a date for” and “coming on to my date in my alternate identity to see if she loves me enough not to cheat on me with Batman.” Also, he vacillates between staunchly refusing to do any flirting at all and dishing out the least romantic pick-up lines possible.

You say “bad writing,” I say “totally in character for a hot rich guy who knows that this is as hard as he has to try to get into someone’s pants.” Bruce might love his partner with the intensity of a thousand dying suns, but he’s still sending Alfred to buy all their Valentine’s Day presents. His idea of a romantic evening for two is finally trusting someone enough to tell them his secret identity. If he’s done that already, or they already figured it out, then his playbook is over. That’s clearly the only romantic fantasy he’s ever allowed himself.

(I was going to say he does this once every movie, but he actually never does this in Batman & Robin specifically because he doesn’t actually care about Julie Madison. She proposes to him and he gets her name wrong while shooting her down. Add that to the “Bruce Wayne isn’t romantic” box.)

The ridiculous amount of magazine cut-outs populating Edward’s apartment indicates that he probably has a very vibrant and extensive set of fantasies involving Bruce, which is hinted at a couple times in the novelization.

Edward would certainly know him when he saw him. He’d spent enough time anticipating the moment, after all [...] Finally he was going to be meeting Bruce Wayne face-to-face, and he had every moment of the encounter scripted [...] He’d rehearsed it to perfection in his mind for weeks upon months.

In the grand scheme of things... in the fabulous, sweeping, intertwining destinies of Bruce Wayne and Edward Nygma, such a slip would not even rate a footnote.

He becomes suddenly and painfully aware that if Bruce Wayne walked away without Edward Nygma by his side, then that would be it. It would be finished. All these weeks, months... indeed, a lifetime of planning... and it was crumbling under him just like that.

Of course, that doesn’t necessarily mean his fantasies are all romantic in the traditional sense of the word. This is a man who was charmed by Harvey holding a charity circus hostage with some kind of graffitied missile warhead. Tonally, there’s not even that much of a difference between his crush collages and his riddle death threats.

What’s weirder, using a magazine cutout of someone you hate to make a pop-up card of their face, or using a magazine cutout of someone you love to replace the anatomically correct heart in the cardiovascular system diagram you keep in your apartment/arcade/makeshift laboratory? Probably the former, since it was made with the express purpose of Bruce actually seeing it. Although presumably Edward was planning on taking Bruce to his apartment at some point? And in the novelization, he actually drags Bruce into his cubicle to look at his Wayne Shrine.

He grabbed Bruce’s arms and shouted “No, don’t leave me! I need you!” [...] Bruce was thunderstruck as he was pulled partway into Edward’s office... and then he caught sight of the shrine.

Edwards’s head bobbed eagerly. Now, finally, Bruce would understand the depth of Nygma’s devotion to his idol. He would see how important he was to Nygma.

Notably, the only thing that upsets Bruce about the fact that one of his employees has a serial killer wall dedicated to him at their work station (@heroes-etc: realistically.... IS this the first time this has happened? i doubt it.) is the fact that the shrine includes a picture of him taken directly after his parents’ death, which is obviously a huge trigger for Bruce’s PTSD.

Wayne’s gaze zeroed in on the picture of himself as a young man.

The eyes of Wayne the elder locked with Wayne the younger, and when he slowly turned his scrutiny back to Edward Nygma, Edward could feel the temperature in the cubicle drop to subzero.

Later, once Bruce isn’t being actively reminded of the most traumatizing day of his life, he reflects that he could probably relate to Edward’s specific brand of crazy, and hopes that it’s not too late to try again (it is).

He paused momentarily at Edward Nygma’s cubicle, thinking about the intensity he’d seen in the man’s eyes the other day. Nygma’s ideas might have been a bit odd, but that sort of passion—if properly channeled—could accomplish miracles. That was something Bruce Wayne certainly knew better than anyone else. Perhaps after this fiasco was the time to take Nygma aside under less-pressured circumstances. Start again...

With any other character, I would call bull on their being this unphased by someone being obsessed enough with them to build a stalker shrine, but, like. It’s Batman. He probably has a stalker shrine to Michelle Pfeiffer Catwoman in his cave somewhere. When they start dating, Edward mails the weirdest magazine cutout valentines to his office on the regular, and every time Bruce has to assure his staff that it’s not a ransom letter and it’s just “his boyfriend being romantic.”

9. What is the most embarrassing thing they have done in front of each other?

I mean, by most people’s standards, any one of the things that Edward does in front of Bruce could easily be the most embarrassing thing to happen to them in their lifetime. But for the most part, Edward seems blissfully free of that kind of self-consciousness. He accidentally introduces himself to Bruce as “[extended moaning sound] Bruce Wayne” and shakes it off without even registering his mistake. Even when he feels like Bruce has rejected him and his project, his emotional state is more shocked, saddened, and angry than it is ashamed. He does apologize to Bruce, during the scene where they first meet, for holding on to his hand too long during their handshake. And by “handshake” I mean that Bruce extends his hand to be shaken, and Edward just grabs on and holds it without any motion whatsoever for the entire first half of their conversation. Which might be the only time he ever apologizes in the entire movie. So I’ll say that was his moment of embarrassment.

Bruce only really embarrasses himself in front of Alfred, but Edward does manage to trick Bruce into getting scanned by his mind reading device at the Nygmatech party. Being tricked in general would be pretty awkward for Bruce, since this movie goes out of its way to show the audience how SMART and CLEVER and KNOWLEDGEABLE ABOUT BRAINWAVES Bruce is at every opportunity. But being tricked into getting your mind read is about a million times more embarrassing than just running into a wall like some kind of Looney Tune. Obviously having access to Bruce’s mind allows Edward to figure out that his former boss/current obsessee is Batman, but also it’s just got to be super weird in there. Bruce is a bizarre man.

12. What first changes when it starts getting serious?

Whether he’s idolizing Bruce or plotting his destruction, Edward is still seeing the subject of his lifelong obsession as a larger than life exaggeration of the real man. Some of that pedestal would probably survive into the beginning of a romantic relationship, but by the time they got serious Edward would have had to recognize that Bruce has both positive and negative traits. He would also have had to grapple with the fact that the man he once assumed would make everything in his life better is a lot of work to be around, especially in this movie’s continuity where the trauma of his family’s death and his guilt over allowing enemies like Joker to die are genuinely affecting Bruce’s day-to-day functionality.

(A lot of things, Chase.)

Edward’s introduction scene demonstrates that he doesn’t see Bruce as having these kinds of problems. His Escapism Wish Fulfillment Device TM is clearly a very personal project for him, since he, you know. Is kind of already living in a Bruce-centric fantasy world.

When he’s pitching it to Bruce, however, he states that he doesn’t think someone like Bruce would ever need to escape reality (which could just be ingratiating flattery, but he barely seems aware of what he’s saying at the time because he’s too busy staring with his mouth open at Bruce putting on glasses).

(Side note: an interjection from @heroes-etc

Anyway, moving on.)

Obviously we know he’s wrong, since Bruce escapes his reality every night by dressing up like a bat and scaring people. Normally that’s just subtext (or me being cynical and creating subtext), but Batman Forever introduced a hot psychiatrist who is constantly poking at Batman for being a power fantasy created by a traumatized mind to cope with intense feelings of helplessness in childhood.

The novelization makes it clear that it’s not the illusion of perfection that Edward is attracted to, however. The picture of Bruce in Crime Alley is what kickstarts Edward’s obsession, not because Bruce seemed flawless but because he seemed to be going through similar pain as Edward (whatever Edward’s pain even IS in this continuity). So I think recognizing Bruce’s issues would be less of a dealbreaker and more of a point of connection, were they to get serious.

He saw, there in Bruce Wayne’s face, an intensity that mirrored his own. An anger, a frustration at the hand that fate had dealt him. There were no tears on Bruce’s face. Instead there was a smoldering intelligence that Edward intuitively sensed was on par with his own.

There was something in Bruce’s eyes, something in that gaze. There was Bruce, in a moment of raw emotion, his parents just having been cruelly taken from him. And there was no self-pity. Just cold, hard anger.

[...] Ed still had the newspaper with him when he was walking home from school. Not that he needed it to read; the contents were safely locked away in his skull, thanks to his photographic memory. But he wanted to clip out the articles and pictures about Bruce Wayne. He found the young man fascinating, as if he had discovered a soulmate of sorts.

For Bruce, on the other hand, getting serious presumably just means attempting to include Edward more and more in the found family he builds in the latter half of the 90’s Batman movies. Alfred approving a love interest is not quite as tantamount in this continuity as it is sometimes (Micheal Gough Alfred is pretty laid back), but Bruce is still spending all of his non-Batman, non-socialite time with his butler. So if Edward wants to hang out with Bruce, he has to either get on Alfred’s good side or prepare for a lot of “romantic quality time” where his boyfriend’s dad is glaring at him from the background.

Dick is less important to get on the good side of, since he and Bruce argue all the time in these movies (apparently one of the proposed scripts for Batman & Robin was Bruce kicking Dick out of the house and making him go to college, where Dick would cope with his dad-related anger by bullying his psychology professor Dr. Crane into becoming a supervillain. I personally feel like I deserved to see that Scarecrow origin). So if Dick doesn’t like Bruce’s new boyfriend, it’s just one more thing for them to be catty to each other about.

Alfred’s niece Barbara Wilson on the other hand (who is adorable as a fusion of Barbara Gordon and Julia Pennyworth, do not @ me) would be absolutely vital for Edward to win over, because her opinion could easily either make or break his standing with her uncle. Also Bruce decided to adopt her within five minutes of meeting her, so he’s obviously fond.

19. Where do they go on their first date?

Edward’s fantasy sequence in the novelization makes it obvious enough that he would really, really like to have dinner at Wayne Manor. Hanging out at someone’s house isn’t really a traditional first date, especially if one of you is a billionaire who could have taken you literally anywhere, but clearly none of that matters to Bruce, because that’s exactly the first date he invites Vicki Vale on in Batman (1989).

It’s pretty painfully awkward (“You want to know the truth? I don’t think I’ve ever been in this room before”) until Bruce gives up on the formality and takes her down to eat the rest of their courses with Alfred in the kitchen.

I feel like his first date with Edward could probably go the same way, with a few major differences. One, Edward would have been super enthused about eating in the fancy dining hall, and Bruce would have only suggested finishing their meal in the kitchen because Edward clearly wanted to see As Much Of The Manor As Possible. Two, when Alfred offers to stop embarrassing Bruce and leave them alone for the end of their date, Edward would have insisted he stay and break out the baby albums. You cannot convince me that Alfred is not a scrapbooker. Actually, does what Edward’s doing count as scrapbooking? Maybe they could compare notes.

#riddlebat #batman forever #edward nygma #riddler #bruce wayne #batman #ship meme #i do not actually recommend reading the novelization because it did chase so dirty i still seethe about it sometimes #but it did make edward pretty fucking gay #now the batman & robin novelization i recommend wholeheartedly #because for some reason bruce has a huge crush on mr. freeze #like literally bruce stalked him for a while in his 20's #and his internal narration is constantly monologueing about how handsome victor is #truly george clooney batman is canon gay

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thevioletjones · 4 years ago

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Congrats on the kudos, u deserve it! I did not undestand if I'm supposed to choose one of the lines for the prompt or if I have to combine two or more lines lol. But if it is to choose only one: number 5. If more than one: 5 and 45. *---*

Thank you! I used both. Great inspiration, actually. It spun out of control! 😀

Prompt 2: “How much of that did you hear?” + “Why are you helping me?”

Interloper

“Jesus, Iggy, I’m gonna fuckin’ murder you myself one of these days,” Mickey threatened in exasperation.

They were both leaning over, hands on knees, gasping for air, just having run full-speed for at least twelve blocks. The pillars beneath the L tracks were now providing the mild seclusion they needed to wait out a cursory police search of the area.

“Ain’t my fault!” Iggy exclaimed defensively.

Mickey’s face scrunched up to a degree that only his dumbest family members could make it reach. “Yes it fuckin’ was! Who else’s fault would it be?”

He’d always kind of wondered how he was the only one in his crap-ass family to be gifted with at least half a brain. Well, him and his younger sister, Mandy. She was alright. Skanky and crazy, but not a total idiot. He couldn’t say the same for his brothers, male cousins, father, uncle, etcetera. Mickey couldn’t even get his begrudgingly favorite brother to follow a simple goddamn plan that would’ve kept them out of trouble when they were out committing crimes. He was just gonna have to start doing everything himself. Safety in numbers didn’t apply when the other member of your team seemed to have been lobotomized when no one was paying attention. It was probably all the meth. Mickey was smart enough to stay away from that particular bullshit. Didn’t want to become a scabby, denture-wearing, toothpick skinny, low-life with no mind left to lose. He was content to stick to coke and weed like a normal person.

“That old bitch came outta nowhere! Self-defense!”

“It ain’t self-defense if you’re robbin’ the joint, numbnuts! We’re lucky you fuckin’ missed!”

If he had it his way, Mickey wouldn’t be doing these petty robberies anymore. He much preferred bigger jobs, like gun and drug running. But times were tough, and he had to do what he had to do. He’d even considered getting a legit job for once in his life, but the skills he possessed weren’t exactly easily adaptable to the straight and narrow path. Being a criminal was how he was raised, and all he knew. It brought heat, but it was still a comfortable fit. Living without the constant presence of major risk would probably feel so foreign as to drive him crazier than a meth addiction in the long run.

The job Mickey’d lined up involved hitting up a few different borderline upmarket stores that’d opened up in their neck of the woods since the gentrifiers had set upon The Yards, then selling the goods to a guy he knew in the online black market trade. Not as lucrative as heavy metal and funny powder, but a decent payday nonetheless. Except fuckface over here who had to ruin everything by getting trigger-happy on Main while they were attempting to heist merchandise from location number two of three. If the pigs nabbed either one of them, they’d be going down for at least five to ten. Years. Mickey was done donating years to the prison industrial complex. The most he could afford was months at best.

“When’d you turn into such a giant asshole?” asked Iggy. “Oh, nevermind, probly when you started gettin’ it railed on the reg.”

A giant smile stretched across his perpetually dirty face, causing Mickey’s eyebrows to lift dangerously high on his forehead. Occasionally, his dumber-than-rocks older brother managed to think up some admittedly clever asides. Mickey didn’t know whether to punch him or give him daps.

Before he could decide, however, he heard a distinct little snicker from the other side of the large concrete column they were leaning on, raising his hackles to invisibly join his eyebrows in their heightened incredulity.

Mickey hastily rounded the pillar and grabbed the giggler by the shirt collar, hauling him to their side and pinning him next to Iggy with his forearm. He looked into the guy’s eyes, and finally registered who it was. He kinda sorta knew him from around town. Used to hang out with his sister back in high school. He was a lot scrawnier then. This version of the dude could probably hold his own with Mickey in a fight. He’d built some definite muscle.

“How much of that did you hear, asshole?” Mickey demanded, seeing Iggy flash the gun in his waistband in his periphery.

This idiot didn’t look as rattled as he should be, though. He just shrugged his shoulders.

“Considering I was here first, I guess… all of it?”

He was wearing an annoying little smirk, his green-blue eyes shining bright, and his red hair distracting Mickey as much as the light dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks. He had a stupidly ultra-defined chin, and Mickey immediately hated it. His chin hadn’t looked like that when he was a 15-year-old pipsqueak.

“Wipe that smile off your face, bitch,” ordered Mickey, pressing his arm harder against the guy’s pale throat. “You think this is fuckin’ funny? You know who we are?”

The guy shrugged again, like this was all a casual conversation on the corner. “Mickey.” He glanced at his dumb, blonde, curlicue brother. “And Iggy, right? I used to hang out with Mandy all the time. Have a good memory.”

“Yeah? Well I remember your goofy ass too, Gallagher. I know where you live and I know who your family is, so if you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your big mouth shut or I’ll pick ‘em off one by one and save you for last. Got it?”

The dude snorted, and Mickey wondered if he was some kind of crazy tweaker with no sense of propriety or self-preservation.

“You outta your goddamn mind or somethin’?” Mickey added. “I ain’t jokin’.”

“Look, Gallaghers don’t snitch, alright?” He held his hands up placatingly. “I promise not to say shit to anyone. It’s none of my business, and I really don’t care. That good enough for you?”

Mickey loosened his hold, but sized him up all the while. “Maybe. But it’s possible you need a little lesson to remember it good. Wouldn't want you to forget about the consequences of you breakin’ your word.”

The dude winced and shoved Mickey off. “I don’t need a fucking beatdown, Mickey. I get it.”

“Ohhhh,” Mickey singsonged derisively, meeting Iggy’s gaze. “He gets it.” He thumbed his eyebrow. “Guess I’m just s’posed to believe you, huh?”

“That would be ideal, yeah.”

Mickey had to give it to him; he almost cracked a smile. The kid had balls. Most people around their neighborhood cowered before a Milkovich like spring lambs. Still, he lived by a code, and letting some rando walk away unscathed when he had dirt on him just didn’t fit the rules.

He cocked his fist back to knock it into tall, pale, and red’s pearly white teeth, just as the stunted siren of a cop car rang out very close by. Their collective heads all snapped toward the sound, and after sharing a meaningful look between brothers, Iggy took off running once again, without a word.

Normally, Mickey would’ve followed hot on his heels, but some unknown force was keeping his useless feet stuck to the dirty ground, eyes watching as Gingerballs glanced around the column at the flashing lights, taking a very long look that wasn’t suspicious at all.

Before he could react outwardly, Mickey was pulled against a hard body, Gallagher’s warm breath sending a shiver down his spine as he whispered, “Be cool. I got you.”

Suddenly, big hands were caressing Mickey’s back, and despite a part of him not minding in the least, the rest of him stiffened considerably.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he rasped out, hearing the telltale slam of a car door, and attempting to pull away. But a strong grip held him close, spinning him around so that he was the one up against the concrete now.

“Saving your thug ass. I know this guy, okay? Just chill and follow my lead.”

Okay, what the hell was this surreal turn of events? Gallagher was bold as shit, cradling Mickey all gay like. Sure, Iggy had made a fag joke earlier, kicking off this whole… whatever it was, but still. This guy had no way of knowing it was based in reality. Did he?

And had Gallagher really been gay this whole time? How had Mickey never sniffed this scorching information out?

“What’s going on here, boys?”

The copper rounded the corner, genuinely swinging his nightstick like a cartoon character, and Mickey had to suppress a deep roll of his eyes.

“Milkovich?” Mr. CPD continued, extreme disbelief coloring his voice.

Mickey was abruptly reminded that he was currently stuck between a rock and a hard body, and nothing about their entanglement screamed anything other than gay, gay, super-fucking-gay. Not that Mickey hadn’t come to accept who he was and what he liked, but he didn’t go around spreading the truth all over town either. This could seriously damage his carefully crafted reputation.

“Tony!” Ian interjected, sparing him from having to invent some lame excuse, and the cop’s eyes snapped to him instead.

“Ian?” His tone was still dripping with astonishment.

“Yeah! What's up? How you been?”

Mickey shot him an ‘are you goddamn serious right now?’ look, and Ian just squeezed his hip in tacit reply.

“Uhhh… gooood? Care to explain whatever…” he waved his stick between them, “this is?”

Ian laughed and he figured the dude truly was a nutcase. Mickey was going to jail for sure.

“Um, well,” answered Ian, suddenly playing it very meek and demure, “Mickey and I were just… you know…”

“You and… Mickey?”

“Not fucking or anything! Just... hanging out?”

“Hanging out.”

“Yeah, you know how it is. I’m tryin’ to convince Mick here to come home with me, but he’s being squirrelly.” He shook his head and shrugged. “South Side guys.”

“What the fuck?” Mickey whispered harshly, completely taken aback.

Ian just squeezed him tightly again, which was not helping his whole brain scramble situation.

“Huh,” said Tony, a tone of acceptance seeping in. “Mickey Milkovich, eh? Wow.”

“Come on, Tony. I don’t have to tell you this is all a big secret, do I?” replied Ian.

“And blondie who ran away like there was a damn fire? Did he flee a threesome?”

Mickey frowned and fake-wretched, finally speaking up. “Fuck no, man. That was my dumbass brother. He don’t like cops.”

“Uh huh. And you and your brother didn’t happen to be getting into trouble about 15 minutes ago, did you?”

“No sir,” Mickey said with a mock salute.

Ian kicked at his foot in warning.

“He’s been with me since like 3 o’clock, Tone. Scout’s honor.”

Officer Tony eyed them both with a look of skepticism, but didn’t contradict Ian’s word. The CB sounded from the open window of the black and white, with some cop-speak crackling over the airwaves.

“Stay put,” said Tony, eyes lingering longer on Mickey’s than Ian’s. “Both of you.”

He retreated to answer the radio call, and Mickey let out a deep whoosh of air.

“Goddamn, Gallagher. You’re spinnin’ quite a yarn here.”

“Yep,” Ian agreed. “A big gay yarn.”

“How the fuck did you know—”

“That you’re gay? Well, I heard Iggy make that joke, obviously. Pretty specific bottom joke to make if you weren’t actually into it. Plus, I always had my suspicions.”

Mickey scoffed. “Yeah fuckin’ right!”

“I did!”

“Whatever. Why are you helping me?”

“Out of the kindness of my heart?”

“Try again.”

“I don’t know. Why not? Makes us even or something. Now you know I won’t rat you out. About any of it. I wouldn’t out someone like that, and I don’t give a shit about the illegal crap you’re wrapped up in. Tony Markovich is like turbo gay too. Used to bang my sister, I think, but he came out a couple years ago. He won’t let it slip about you. He’s not a total bastard just cuz he’s a cop, ya know?”

Mickey bit his lip in contemplation. Gallagher seemed pretty genuine. Still didn’t much make sense in his brain, but whatever.

“Fine. But you know what’s gonna happen if—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, kick my ass, kill my family, got it.”

“You’re a cocky little shit, ain’t you?”

Ian smirked again, and it was pretty sexy, actually. “Maybe.”

He had the gall to push against Mickey more fully, pressing the bottom halves of their bodies closer together.

Mickey gasped. “Gonna have to ask you again… what the hell do you think you’re doin’?”

“You wanna go out sometime?”

Mickey cackled in his face. “You’re off your fuckin’ rocker for sure.”

“Am not! I can tell you want me.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ. Cocky little shit doesn’t even begin to cover it, does it?”

“Come onnnn,” Ian prodded.

“Do I look like I date, Gallagher?”

“A date can be whatever we want it to be, Milkovich. I’m easy.”

“Yeah, I bet you are.”

“Okay,” Tony interrupted, coming back into view. “Get the hell outta here. You wanna bang, do it indoors somewhere, or I’ll have to arrest you for public indecency or worse. And Milkovich… if I find any evidence of what I’m sure you know I’m talking about, I’ll be paying your ass a visit real soon.”

Mickey let the eyeroll loose then, withholding a flip of his middle finger, and deadpanning instead, “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, officer.”

Tony sighed loudly. “Whatever.”

“Thanks, Tony!” Ian cried at his retreating back.

“You always kiss cop ass like that? Cuz that’s not the way to get into my pants, Red.”

Ian just grinned, finally pulling his body away as he looked around. “You gonna follow me home or what?”

Mickey wanted to tell him to go fuck himself and swagger away like a badass. But was he not a thirsty man being propositioned by a hot guy who just randomly saved his ass from a trip to the slammer?

He at least feigned protest, huffing and puffing as he kicked at the dirt. “Goddamn it, Gallagher, you drive a hard bargain.”

Ian’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, as Mickey added, “Lead the way, weirdo.”

#ian x mickey #fanfic #gallavich #fanfiction #asks #answers

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mattzerella-sticks · 3 years ago

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So I had an idea for a DeanCas Pokemon AU that I never worked on because it was just too grand of a project, but after commissioning @gabester-sketch to draw this picture of Dean and a Sylveon (here) I’m thinking, even if I never get around to writing it, I still think it was great and am gonna share it.

So, basically, it would have been an AU set in the Kalos region (my favorite region), with Dean and Sam having grown up in Vaniville Town. When they were young, the town was beset by criminals and set aflame, the boys losing their mother in the fire. While Dean got Sam to safety in their neighbor Bobby’s arms, he then got seperated and ended up losing consciousness under a tree. He was mostly unharmed save for twin scars on his palms in the shape of ‘x’s (which he will hide with gloves), but because of the fire he ended up being traumatized of both fire and Pokemon. Fast forward many years, they have been raised by Bobby because, after the fire, John decided to recommit to being a Pokemon trainer and find the villains who set the fire. Sam wants to set out on his own journey, but has been held back by Dean’s worry longer than he should have - meaning all of his friends got to leave town when they were ten while Sam’s been there an extra 6+ years. Until one day, Sam leaves, telling Dean that he is going to start his journey and he hopes he forgives him.

Dean, naturally, chases after Sam - thinking he can catch him before he gets far.

Yet Dean, being Dean, gets lost quite easily in the surrounding grass and forest and his anxieties start rising. He gets cornered by some wild Pokemon and doesn’t know what to do, when suddenly an Espurr appears and battles away the Pokemon. A trainer arrives, too, with mussed dark hair and blue eyes hidden behind wide-rimmed frames, and he’s dressed dishevedly. He introduces himself as Cas and asks why Dean didn’t send out his own Pokemon. Dean says that he doesn’t have any. This begins a conversation that Dean quickly walks away from, stubborn, claiming that he doesn’t need any Pokemon.

He’s lost again, and mad that he didn’t ask Cas for directions. He’s sitting by a lake when he feels something brush up against his side, and it’s a little Eevee. Dean tries to make her go away, but she won’t, instead nestling into his lap. At first he’s so panicked, but the more Eevee cuddles and uses Baby-Doll Eyes at him, and as he pets her, Dean relaxes. Until some Team Flame members burst in, saying that they’re here for the Eevee. Dean doesn’t respond well and say that it’s not their Eevee. They battle, with Dean holding his own, but when it looks like they’re gonna be overpowered, Dean runs away with the Eevee and stumbles on Cas again, and together they send Team Flame running. Dean thanks Cas, while Cas observes that he’s seemed to have gotten himself a Pokemon. Gives Dean a Pokeball to catch the Eevee with. Together, they make it to the next town where Dean learns Sam’s already left for Lumiose. “Good thing you have a Pokemon,” Cas comments, “you’re gonna need her if you want to go to Lumiose.” Now Dean has been forced on his own Pokemon journey.

Along the way Dean will find his party growing, and he’ll be coming out of his shell with the more people he met. The Pokemon professor I had in mind was Chuck when I created this but I have changed my mind and it’s Missouri, with Charlie and Kevin as her assistants. Lumiouse City gym leader was Ash, little sister Jo and mom Ellen would also be introduced. The third gym leader would be Claire, who we also find out is Cas’s niece after Dean meets with Cas’s twin brother Jimmy - thinking he’s Cas. And the sixth gym leader was originally gonna be Jess, but because I am an Eileen-stan, Eileen would be the Fairy gym leader who also tells Dean she was very interested in his brother. And Dean’s party would grow to include a Togepi that he evolves into a Togekiss, a Feebas he helps grow into a Milotic, his Eevee evolves into a Sylveon, a Buneary bruiser that will evolve into a Lopunny, a Litleo that helps him overcome his fear of fire type Pokemon (saving her from a fire that Team Flare started in former Team Flare now Elite Four member Meg’s house) that will evolve into a Pyroar, and a Cubone who he keeps out of its Pokeball most the time (like Sylveon) that he picked up because we all know why.

And, during his journey, Dean becomes a great trainer in his own right, though he doesn’t battle for badges. He becomes great friends with his Pokemon. Pokemon have always naturally been drawn to him, which he’s now starting to see isn’t such a bad thing. He’s also meeting new friends, like Cas who he keeps running into and, you guessed it, develops a crush on him.

Finally Dean makes his way back to Lumiouse City for the Pokemon Tournament, and while out and about in the city finally runs into Sam. Sam is shocked to see Dean, especially Dean with Pokemon, while Dean just starts berating Sam for sneaking off like that. They mend fences pretty easily, Dean saying that if it weren’t for Sam leaving Dean might’ve been too afraid to leave home to go on his own journey. Sam would love to stay and chat, but he needs to register for the tournament. Dean lets him off, saying they should meet up for lunch (”a picnic”). Sam agrees. After running into Sam, Dean then runs into Cas, and Dean fills him in on the Sam stuff. He then invites Cas to their picnic. Cas agrees, but hasn’t shown up despite Dean and Sam and their Pokemon all already being there for half an hour. Cas does arrive, apologizing, being held up, and Dean is ready to tease him until he turns and sees Cas dressed much differently than before.

Cas is in a suit, his hair pushed back, no glasses, and wears a trench coat. Sam is agape, asking Dean why the Kalos Champion knows who he is.

That’s right! Cas is the Champion of Kalos! We finally meet his party, which includes a fully-evolved Meowstic.

It’s an enjoyable picnic and they’re all walking around the city when they see a Pokemon battle going on, check it out and - it’s John Winchester!

More reunions! John is proud of his sons for setting off on their journey, and asks to see their Pokemon. He approves of Sam’s but finds that Dean’s aren’t fit for battle. Dean is rubbed the wrong way by that but stays silent, but Sam goads them into a fight. Dean’s Sylveon vs. John’s Tyranitar. It’s a strong match-up, with both Pokemon getting good hits in. Sylveon falls, however. John, though, says that Dean trained her well and things are fixed there.

It’s time for the tournament and everyone is there. Including Chuck, the CEO of this corporation. Sam’s progressing well throughout the tournament, until he finally faces Nick, a mysterious competitor who’s been mowing down his challengers ruthlessly. Before the battle Dean, in a trance, rises from his seat. Sylveon worringly chases after him. Just as the battle is about to start, the stadium goes dark, and Team Flare make their reveal. They begin attacking, with those who are able to combatting this all. Sam is busy dealing with Nick, Cas tied up battling grunts but also worried about Dean. He goes to find him but only sees John, who explains Dean had to use the bathroom.

In actuallity, Dean is being kidnapped by Team Flare and their leader, Chuck. Cas and John make it to see Dean being squirreled away, Sylveon left behind.

Dean wakes up in the Team Flare headquarters, where it’s revealed Chuck wants to absorb the powers of life and death through their avatars - Xerneas and Yveltal. He’s already succeeded with Yveltal, but failed years ago during the Vaniville Assault. That’s right! Chuck caused the fire that killed Dean’s mom and scarred him. This is where we learn that Dean, while lost in the flames of the town and forest, stumbled upon Xerneas’s tree form. Dean died due to smoke inhalation, but was given new life through Xerneas’s interference. Because of this, his Pokemon’s fairy attacks were much stronger than normal, and it aided his charm. Bascially, Xerneas passed its energy into Dean, making him Xerneas. And Chuck wants to absorb it even if it kills Dean.

Cas, Sam, and John all decide to launch a rescue mission. They sneak into the underground compound and fight to free Dean. Meanwhile, Chuck moves to awaken Xerneas. He succeeds in doing this, Dean’s hair turning pink because of it. He doesn’t absorb Xerneas’s power, however, as the others cut in. Chuck disappears, deciding he’ll just go through with his plan without Xerneas then.

The group converge, freeing Dean. Except it isn’t Dean, it’s Xerneas. “I’ve always been Xerneas.” This doesn’t sit right with any of them, but before they can comment Xerneas teleports away, sensing Chuck. The others leave the compound, trying to get a sense of what’s going on.

Chuck’s real goal was to destroy the world by killing Zygarde, then start over using Xerneas’s power. Chuck has grown into a horrible amalgamation of man and Pokemon. Dean does the same to stop him, and they battle while the others go to wake Zygarde from his slumber. They succeed, and Zygarde comes and rips Yveltal free from Chuck, leaving him a regular man again.

Xerneas goes back to normal, Dean-sized again, and says that once he leaves Dean, Dean will surely die. Everyone starts to cry, including Dean’s Pokemon who all jump out of their balls to argue with the deer entity. Xerneas, troubled, searches their feelings, and understands. He converses with Zygarde and when Zygarde frees Xerneas, Dean is still able to wake up and is himself again (there was a way!) His hair is still pink, though. Everyone celebrates!

Epilogue - Sam wins the tournament and faces off against Cas, defeating him and becoming the new Kalos champion. Cas is glad, as he’s ready to retire and explore more that life has to offer. Dean asks what that might be, and Cas kisses him.

Back when I thought of this, I think around s9/s10, it was way out of my skill level. And now, I dont have the time lol. It seems like it’d be a 20+ chapter piece. But what a fic it would be...

#supernatural #spn #pokemon au #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #destiel #deancas #john winchester #destiel fanfic idea #this is probably as far as I'll be able to go with it #especially since most of my notes were lost in my dead computer lol

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