#anyway i just watched look both ways and i think i learned the exact opposite lesson of what the film was trying to say | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

exceptionimagines · 5 days ago

Text

Being married to John Marshall (after he had his daughter) would include~

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(I hope this is what you had in mind! I'm more used to writing dating headcanons first so it was a little difficult to decide what I should focus on)

- After his first marriage, John was convinced he'd never walk down the aisle again. Watching his ex-wife go from somebody that he loved; loved enough to start a family with, to the literal bane of his existence had him swearing off of matrimony and the concept of love in general. John isn't a man who believes in second chances, but you somehow manage to change his mind.

- Things are different with you: different from the very start. Without even taking your looks into consideration, you're the exact opposite of Brittany. You're understanding, you're logical, you're supportive. You're everything that he's needed these past few years and he finds himself falling for you very easily.

- The minute he finds himself crushing on you, all of his claims about love being bullshit and relationships getting in the way of what's important go out the window. He switches up the minute he gets close to you: pretends he doesn't know what someone's talking about when they quote the "old" him or insinuate that he's changed after meeting you. It's honestly kind of amusing to see how fast he changes his tune.

- He once thought that marriage made having a career even harder, but after the two of you tied the knot, that never seemed to be the case. If anything, you made things easier. A clean house, home cooked meals, a support system: any and every little thing you do is one less burden weighing down on his shoulders, and the lack of stress helps him to be a better man; and husband, in the long run.

- There's a clear change in him when the two of you get together. His head is clear, he's happier, he's communicating better, his angers under control, he's less of a workaholic, etc. At times, he thinks that maybe he's learned a little something from his previous marriage, but no, he really just thinks it's you. You've changed him for the better, and honestly, everyone in town thanks you for it.

- John doesn't do the whole "parallel play" thing. He can't focus on something else if the two of you are in a room together. He can claim that he'll leave you alone and do his own thing, but you both know that that isn't going to happen. The minute he decides to stay in the room with you is the minute you know you're not getting anything done; even if he's got his own work to do. Whether he does it purposefully to get attention or because he genuinely forgets you're trying to focus, it isn't long before he starts asking random questions/making random comments and interrupting your train of thought.

- He's sort of clingy and he likes spending as much time with you as possible: time where he has your full attention. I kind of hinted at it before, but you'd likely be a stay-at-home wife. John doesn't mind the concept of you working, he thinks motivated career women are kind of sexy, but the reality of the situation is much less sexy. It's already difficult trying to see and make time for each other with just his hectic schedule in the way; imagine trying to do it with two. He makes enough to comfortably support the two of you anyway.

- "If my wife wants it, she gets it" sort of guy. He might not understand your need to decorate the house for every holiday or season, or why you want to do a certain craft/home project, but he'll still drive you to the craft store and buy you your materials/help you build whatever you had in mind. He might side eye you a little and/or ask a bunch of questions, but he's still swiping his card at the register; even if it's obvious he doesn't quite get the appeal. Definitely asks if you want to go to your favorite stores whenever he wants to apologize or notices that you're sad.

- Speaking of not understanding the appeal: John fucking hates cats. He's one of those people who thinks that they're little demons who attack you for no reason, ...but he'd still "let" you get one; with enough convincing. Literally any other pet would be easier to obtain with his permission. He'd sooner let you buy a tarantula than a shorthair.

- Taking walks around town whenever it's particularly nice out.

- Drinking coffee together is sort of your thing; whether it includes going out to get it or brewing it at home. He'll go and set the coffee maker the minute he gets up for work: pushing the button before he hops in his shower and gets dressed. You'll get out of bed a little while later and make the two of you your cups, meeting him at the table when he's finished getting ready. If he's leaving at the ass crack of dawn, he'll make you a cup in bed before he leaves for work: not wanting you to have to get up too early. If you don't drink coffee then expect to be teased for it.

- Spending your mornings together. The two of you linger around each other as you get ready for the day: making plans, talking, eating, getting affection in before his undoubtedly long shift. Sometimes he'll get called in early, but most of the time, you get to be together without interruption.

- Wearing his clothes around the house.

- Snuggling up on the couch together. He likes laying on you and having you rake your fingers through his hair while you watch tv or talk about your day. Sometimes the two of you fall asleep in front of the fire and the person who wakes up first has to usher the other one off to bed: he just picks you up and carries you, but you'll, obviously, have to wake him up and shepherd him up the stairs; undoubtedly having to stifle your laughter when he stubs his toe or sleepily hits into something.

- It always warms his heart to see you waiting for him on the couch after a long shift; whether you're still awake or fully asleep. He loves that you want to see him enough to try and stay up late in order to greet him the minute he comes home. Sometimes he just lays down next to you and falls asleep himself.

- He gets really into your "girly" shows; even if he mocks them at times or insists that he isn't interested. He always asks a lot of questions because a) he never watches them from the beginning and refuses to ask you to watch with him from the start, and b) he doesn't want to ask you to wait to watch new episodes with him so he only ever catches parts of the show here and there. That being said, even if he did watch from the start, he'd still struggle to keep track of things: it's the old man in him.

- But when you're watching tv together, it's less about the shows and more about just being with you: sitting with your legs in his lap and a drink in his hand, unwinding from both your days while he absentmindedly rubs your ankles.

- You are a victim of the sassy man apocalypse. You're constantly being outqueened and outbabygirled. Fight back.

- Play wrestling and teasing tug of war. It helps him relieve stress and he actually really enjoys it; particularly if you're taking it a bit seriously/actually being competitive about it. It also might evolve into something more, but I digress.

- He tends to pretend that everything is fine even when it's not. And it's not always in really serious ways either. He'll break something of yours and he'll beat around the bush the same way he would if somebody died. Well something happened to it.... No, it's not broken. I mean it's broken, but.... No, it's not ruined. I'm going to fix it, but you know, just so you know. No it's not an easy fix, but I'm gonna fix it.

- He somehow immediately knows what's wrong with things around the house. It's like a six sense. He'll also insist on trying to fix them himself, even if he doesn't quite know how to do it.

- He has incredibly good hearing. He'll hear something drop from several rooms away and yell out to ask if you're okay. He'll be able to locate the strange sound you're hearing in a minute flat. He'll hear everything you say about him or something he's interested in even if you're talking quietly on the phone. He also just knows when something is wrong: he can feel it.

- He honestly really loves terms of endearment. He used them even before the two of you were officially together: it was mostly nicknames until you actually started dating, but he let a few sweethearts slip from time to time. Most of the time, he calls you "honey" and/or things of the like. He likes the feeling exclusivity that it brings.

- Leaving him romantic or sweet notes, little post-it's with words of encouragement, etc. He usually either writes back that he loves you or takes them with him, keeping them in his desk or glove compartment for whenever he's feeling stressed.

- John isn't used to people doing nice things for him. It makes him a little sheepish, a bit shy; especially when it's coming from you. He grew so used to being on his own and being talked down to or belittled that having somebody make him feel important sticks with him for a long time. You treating him sweetly was probably part of why he fell for you in the first place.

- Diner dates.

- Getting your moments in wherever you can. You grow used to meeting him at places for lunch or visiting him during late nights at the station, things of the like. He tries to make time for you as much he can, but sometimes you just have to make do.

- You need to be okay with cancelled plans and things of the like. John takes the weight of the world on his shoulders, he feels the need to prove himself so he takes on responsibility that he doesn't have to. You need to be patient with him, and maybe convince him to go to actually therapy.

- Check in texts. He likes to keep you in the know whenever anything happens or if there's a change in plans. He doesn't like getting your hopes up or making you worry too much, and he likes knowing what you're doing and how you're feeling throughout the day. He's a dry texter who uses a lot of thumbs up emojis, but he's still considerate and sweet.

- He really only uses Facebook, sometimes Instagram but that's mainly to keep up with whatever Jenna's doing. He sometimes looks through your posts or sends you different videos whenever he misses you. Sometimes he'll see your updates months after you post them, sometimes it's literal seconds later: it's always a surprise as to when he'll see them, but trust that he'll see them.

- He needs you to agree with him: to give him praise and validation. He needs you to tell him that he's right, to give him your opinions and to help him organize his thoughts. Get ready to hear a lot about crime scenes because he'll undoubtedly bounce his ideas off of you all of the time. He also wants you to give him your opinion on how he looks: whether you think his haircut is okay, if it's too short, if he should get better jeans, etc. Give him a compliment and a kiss on the cheek, it'll ease his mind.

- That being said, though you usually tell him he's right with everything else, you typically take his daughters side in a lot of their arguments. You try to mend their relationship as much as you can, and since you're a woman yourself, he trusts you to know what to do with her. He'd rather her be more like you than his ex-wife so if you give him your opinion on something or tell him to do something, he usually agrees.

- Jenna's likely off at college by the time the two of you get married, but you're still her stepmother and the two of you have a really good relationship. She's not used to people making time for her or making her a priority so she really appreciates everything that you do for her; even if she insists that you didn't have to.

- Awkward ex-wife interactions. Expect her to say things about you, it's just who she is.

- He's especially protective of you and combative towards other people in regards to you now that you're his wife. He's immediately pulling the wife card whenever someone is rude to you: "what did you just say to my wife", "that's my wife, you bastard", etc. Expect him to get you mace and probably self defense classes. Also expect him to worry about you a lot, even when you're just dealing with normal sickness: like you're gonna die if you puke a couple times during the night.

- He's surprisingly decent at comforting you, and trying to work your problems out from an outside perspective. It's skills and therapy speak that he's learned from AA and maybe doesn't fully believe in, but hey, if it helps you, it helps you, right?

- He lowkey likes when you worry about him. He's not used to it and it kind of makes him giddy. He gets butterflies when you yell at him for scaring you: it makes him feel like you really care, probably because it's so similar to how he shows his love and protectiveness. It's like you're speaking his language.

- Your husband does not do well with pressure: it's something you have to work on him with and set up precautions for. You learn how to calm him down, make things easier for him, comfort him, etc. It's usually your touch that does it: it just has a way of making him feel better.

- You know your husbands a bit of an asshole; everyone in town does, but you do your best to get him to apologize or make things right whenever he snaps at someone. You send him a look when he starts giving attitude; especially to you, and he usually sighs, grumbling and apologizing because he knows you're just trying to help. He's a bit of a wife guy so he shut's up and backpedals whenever you respond to him with attitude.

- That being said, John is usually different with you compared to everyone else. Blame it on having a daughter, on loving you, on being a gentleman; to some extent, on being vaguely misogynistic, etc, but he views you as being sweeter and more sensitive than others. Because of this, he tries to bury his anger and not take it out on you whenever something is overwhelming him. He's always apologetic if he ever misdirects his anger or accidentally snaps at you because you catch him at a bad time or because someone else has riled him up. It makes him feel really bad. And even if he isn't always successful; or even if he's nicer to you for the wrong reasons, it's the thought that counts, right?

- I don't see him as wanting any more kids. Though he loves his daughter with all his heart, I don't see him as particularly enjoying fatherhood. I think he knows he isn't a great dad, and that things would never be different enough in his life to make having another child easier the second time; even if it's with you. He's sure you'd be a great mom; you're already a great mom with Jenna, he just isn't one of those guys who wants a "do-over".

- Overall, it's not easy being with him, but you love him enough to work through whatever trials and tribulations you may come across.

#john marshall imagine #john marshall headcanon #john marshall imagines #john marshall headcanons #john marshall x reader #the wolf of snow hollow headcanon #the wolf of snow hollow imagine #the wolf of snow hollow imagines #the wolf of snow hollow headcanons

11 notes · View notes

ad-hawkeye · 10 months ago

Note

ok so it's lit student again and im like, already lacking sleep but instead of sleeping i'm gonna go catch up on all of artem's cards Just Bc like i genuinely have no idea why it's always in the dead of night that i get hit with an overwhelming wave of adoration for artem?? i'm about to start YAPPING in your inbox again im so sorry DHAKDJKS *does it anyway*

continuing off my last ask they me think of the movie i watched recently called "past lives" that's fully centered around the concept of fate (it's so good 10/10 i really want to see artem review it),,, i won't spoil but it's like hshsjadhsjhdjshs "destined by fate" but fate doesn't tell you what it holds for you??

after watching it i looked up more about the term "inyeon" (korean term for fate or providence) which the movie heavily emphasizes on and found a reddit post talking about it (i'll paste the link below <3) where they quote a comment explaining its meaning and what it says is that inyeon isn't just about the person you're destined to end up with, but also the people you encounter in your life. basically, with inyeon, your string of fate isn't simply linear but also looped around every person you'll interact with. to reach the person at the end of your "string of fate," you're supposed to treat each interaction with respect or else you'll never find them AND LEARNING THIS MADE ME LOVE THE MOVIE EVEN MORE 🥹🥹🥹

a lot of destiny tropes give the characters an easy way to end up together kinda like the opposite of "doomed by the narrative" as in they could do simply nothing and still find their way to each other, but to reference the comment from earlier: your destiny doesn't end the moment your meet your "destined one." artemrosa learned so much and worked so hard before they became a couple a d still continue to grow both individually and together even after they started dating 🥹 they're still the same precious individuals that they were in their pre-dating arc, only wiser and stronger with combined forces 🫶 they aren't together just because fate wanted them to be, they Made it happen and they're still Making it happen‼️ something something every choice i made, every path i took (indirectly and directly) led me to you

like. i genuinely wanna know more about how they met/knew each other in college because it's SO fascinating to me that their paths have crossed so many times, and they don't just simply get together. a lot of things happen that they learn from that shapes them into their best versions that also complement each other. to me it's like,, no matter what happens, what they feel for each other or how the end up, their paths will always be destined to cross, whether it's by brushing past each other on the street and never meeting again or becoming each other's partners both in work and in life and as seen from the different universes that hoyo has shown us so far, we can see that they always end up becoming each other's most cherished person, despite the varying journies that led them to that point WUAWUAWUA

pls enjoy my rambling i might actually pass out from this 😭 good fucking NIGHT

p.s. this was not written with the proposal card in mind god bless 🙏 that's an example of "it happened bc the gods demanded it and they sent a lightning bolt down to everyone who opposed it"

https://www.reddit.com/r/redikomi/comments/16drqze/the_meaning_of_fate_in_yeon_%EC%9D%B8%EC%97%B0_in_korean/

omg shut up i literally read this AFTER replying to your last ask and we literally came to the exact same conclusion HAHAHAHA OMG NO WAY. SUFFICE TO SAY. YEAH. I ENTIRELY AGREE WITH ALL OF THIS.

THIS SPECIFIC SUBVERSION OF THE RED STRING TROPE is WHY i love it in artem's route!! ohhh it's so GOOOODDDD YOU HAVE TO WORK FOR IT!! YOU HAVE TO BECOME BETTER PEOPLE!! my ass in 2021 would not shut UP about this and dear god im not going to shut up about it right now.

i just want to say you not only took the words out of my mouth but you also made them more concise and well said and ooughhh. Artem Fans. read this. NOW. you will all look at this post. oh im dizzy. oh im going so insane.

#asks #anon #tears of themis #artem wing #long post #meta #RED STRING META RED STRING META #ALSO I WILL BE LOOKING INTO THIS MOVIE ASAP. SPRINTING AND RUNNING

14 notes · View notes

saiilorstars · 2 years ago

Photo

Ch.8: Lena Luthor

Story Masterlist // Anais’ Masterlist

Pairing: Winn Schott x OFC

Taglist: @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @foxesandmagic

[If you’d like to be added to this specific OC’s stories/edits, send me a message!]

"So your parents were sent off well?" Kara asked just as she and Anais landed in front of a expensive-looking building J'onn had requested their appearance at.

"Yeah," Anais gave a light shrug of her shoulders. "I told them the man from the pod was another Kryptonian so there was nothing to worry about. They and my godparents are leaving to get some well needed rest."

"You believe that?"

Anais snorted. "They're all science geeks. Anyways, where the hell are we?" The two made it into the building and found the familiar DEO employees going about their usual tasks. "Where are we?" Anais repeated her question and hoped someone would finally answer them.

"The Department of Extra-Normal Operations, where else?" J'onn stopped by them, wondering why they were acting so clueless.

Both women exchanged exact, incredulous glances.

"Wait! Wait, wait, wait!" Kara followed J'onn first. "This has always been here? With the glass and the views and...and you made me fly to that cave every day!"

"DEO has several facilities, Kara."

"A bat bit me in the last one!”

"Whiner," J'onn calmly said, eliciting a snicker from Anais but a rather offended look from Kara.

"Hey, sis," Alex greeted when the trio entered the medbay room.

"You knew about this place, too?" Anais raised an eyebrow. She was beginning to feel rather offended herself for not being in the loop.

"Yeah, it's like a block from my apartment. It's kind of like the old place. Maybe better."

Kara decided to put that behind them or else they would never get to the news of the moment. She gazed at the unconscious man in Alex's care. "He has to be from Krypton. He must have escaped before the planet exploded, like Clark and I did."

"He's comatose. His vitals are stable. Breathing is normal. There's nothing else we can really learn from him because…" Alex had tried to stick a needle in the man's arm but the needle broke instead.

"That proves he's from Krypton!"

"I think it just proves he's not human," Anais chimed in her opinion. Kara looked at her seeming rather offended. "There's a lot of aliens that have freaky strength, myself included."

"Which means he could be dangerous," J'onn said what everyone else had already assumed.

"Sir, I would request that Winn help with the investigation," Alex said once she saw Winn coming into the room. "We need someone to analyze the pod's telemetry, and Winn does read Kryptonian."

At the questioning looks from Kara and J'onn, he meekly explained, "I got bored. I thought I'd pick up a new language. Space talk!"

"You want to prove your worth, Mr. Schott? Find out something my team of highly trained alien experts can't," J'onn said, meaning it as a kind way of letting Winn know his time probably wasn't going to be of much use.

Winn took that as the exact opposite. "Challenge accepted."

Anais laughed quietly. J'onn nodded Winn to follow him out but stopped under the threshold for a moment. "Oh, Solar, your friend is being released in twenty minutes."

Anais eagerly nodded and thanked him again. She turned to meet the smiling faces of Kara and Alex. "What?"

"Arun is getting released today?" Kara asked even though they already knew the answer.

"Yes, he was officially declared nonthreatening," Anais rolled her eyes. "That's still rude but... it's behind us. We're going to watch the Venture space launch tonight after he shows me his art shop."

"Oh, going on a date already…?" Alex purposely teased and Kara really did try to suppress her laughter.

"It's not a date, Alex. He's showing me his life and I'm going to show him mine," Anais smiled brightly at the thought of finally meeting someone like her. "And don't worry Kara, I'll stay clear of the apartment so you and James can have some alone time."

"Oh, so you're the one going on a date?" Alex shifted her teasing glance to Kara instead.

"Yup," Kara answered fast. "It's gonna be great. We are finally both free and clear to just hang out. No aliens trying to destroy the Earth. Just him and me, together like normal people, doing what people do on dates." She had to stop though when she noticed Alex's intense look. "What?"

Alex cleared her throat and purposely moved away from her sister. She went to put down the needle she'd tried using on the mysterious man. "You're just kind of doing that thing where you are super overeager, which means that you really aren't, but you're trying to convince yourself that you are."

"You got all of that from that one response?" Anais blinked in genuine surprise. She wondered if this was what it was like to have a sibling. Sure her parents knew her emotions well but a sibling, she imagined, knew more things about you that the parents wouldn't.

"She does that a lot, you'll see," Alex moved on out of the room but of course Kara went after her, protesting what had been assumed about her.

"I'm excited! I am so excited!"

Anais didn't say anything but she was pretty sure someone who was genuinely excited about something wouldn't go so hard trying to convince someone that they indeed were really excited. Thankfully, things didn't enter into an actual argument since Kara was called away by Cat. Though when she did go, she didn't do it before uttering one more time that she was "super uber excited" which really just proved Alex right.

"Every day I get to know something new about your sister," Anais chuckled as now she and Alex headed towards the main room.

"That's going to happen. I'm really just looking out for her," Alex felt the need to clarify. She didn't want to sabotage Kara's long awaited date but she just knew that Kara wasn't truly happy at the moment. "And I'll be looking out for you too, just so we're clear."

Anais blinked. "What? What did I do?"

Alex playfully rolled her eyes. "Your parents asked me to keep an eye on you."

"Oh great-"

"And keeping my word…" Alex came to a stop suddenly, making Anais dread what was coming, "I want you to be extra careful when you're around Arun."

"Alex, I already told you he wasn't dangerous-"

"You don't know someone's intentions, alright? Now Arun has been living on Earth for a long time. You know who is biologically, but you don't know what kind of person he is in reality," Alex was very serious in this matter. She would be repeating this to Anais every time she deemed it necessary. "So today, while you're out with him, watch yourself. Don't go to his apartment yet."

"Alex, c'mon," Anais laughed at the absurdity of her words. "I'm not a little kid. And I certainly have the means to protect myself."

"I know you do, but I still want you to be alert," Alex smiled and hoped Anais would understand she was just looking out for her too. She left Anais in the central room afterwards but even as Anais tried pushing Alex's words away it was impossible.

Alright, so maybe she couldn't fully trust Arun yet but it didn't mean she had to view him as a villain.

"You alright?"

Anais flinched when Winn touched her shoulder. She snapped out of her thoughts and waved him off. "Yeah, don't worry about it. Alex is trying to be my big sister."

"And that's...bad…?" Winn wasn't sure due to her straight face. "I mean, I know Alex can be scary but, she's fine. She's cool."

Anais chuckled and playfully rolled her eyes. "She is but she just had this idea that I shouldn't be so trusting in Arun."

"He was cleared of any threats, right?"

"Yes!"

"Well, I mean...it wouldn't hurt to be cautious," Winn flashed her a nervous smile when he noticed she was close to glaring at him. "Or not... not works too. Do whatever you feel is right."

She ultimately smiled. "Way to stand your ground. You know, if you're going to be working here, you'll need to learn how to do that."

"Me work here?" Winn's eyes went wide at the idea. "At the DEO?" His laughter wasn't received well since Anais had been dead serious.

"C'mon, Winn. You're more than qualified to be here. Plus, it's pretty obvious you want to be here too," Anais nudged him on the side.

"Yeah…" Winn wasn't going to outright admit the D.E.O. would be a working dream for him. Whether he admitted it or not, it was obvious for Anais.

~ 0 ~

When Arun was finally released, he made a direct demand to go out and eat. Apparently, what the D.E.O. served wasn't as great as one would think. Anais laughed but didn't protest to some tasty lunch.

"We can do whatever you want but I just can't get home until eleven," Anais warned Arun after they walked into the restaurant Arun chose. He apparently had a taste for Italian. "My roommate Kara has a hot date tonight."

"You and Supergirl room together?" Arun was immediately shushed by Anais, even though no one actually heard his question. He raised an eyebrow at her, clearly confused on her rudeness. "What?"

"You can't just say stuff like that out in the open."

"Why? It's not like any of the humans can actually hear us."

"Doesn't matter," Anais frowned.

Arun left it at that and picked up the menu. "What do you feel like having? It's on me, by the way."

"I really love pasta so a chicken alfredo would be delicious," Anais then lowered the menu, revealing a smile on her face. "And thanks for the invite. Next time it's on me."

Arun smiled back. "Don't worry about it. On Solaris, it's customary for the men to pay for the meals."

"Ah, chivalry and tradition - that's not new," Anais playfully rolled her eyes.

"Oh no, Solaris is nothing like...Earth," Arun's brief condescension didn't go unnoticed by the blonde. "Solaris was beautiful in its time. It was always bright and sunny. People were always elegant and there was order."

"Order?"

"Yes, you know, classes? We didn't have to mingle with anyone outside our social class."

"Aha," Anais scrunched her face behind her menu. "Kinda sounds boring."

"What?" Arun sounded offended but Anais wasn't going to keep her opinions to herself just for fear of upsetting him.

"Well, it sounds like a boring, rich place. Don't get me wrong, being rich is probably fun but all the snootiness that comes with it?"

Arun was frowning when Anais put down her menu. "You don't understand. When we can, I'll show you images of Solaris. You'll change your mind in a snap."

"Okay," Anais chuckled.

A young waitress stopped by their table to get their order. Arun ended up ordering on behalf of Anais - which she was a bit surprised with since she was very capable of doing that on her own - then ordered for him afterwards. While they waited for their meals, Arun talked about himself - and a bit of Solaris - for Anais.

As it turned out, Arun was more traditional in that he didn't really mingle with humans except for when he worked. Survival, basically. He viewed humans as a necessity to survive so he kept his interactions civil and short. Anais thought it weird that after living on Earth for ten years, he still kept that type of mentality.

"On Solaris, I was part of a high class so I was just raised with different perspectives," he said with a careless shrug. "Your family was one of them, by the way. The Mjorklands were known for their fine weaving skills. They made the finest clothing on the planet."

"So we were fashion designers?" Anais' joke was met with another frown. She ultimately stopped laughing when he wouldn't lighten up. "My mother never mentioned it."

"Irais should have told you about your history," Arun said quietly, though Anais swore he seemed more upset than she was about the matter.

"She just answered what I would ask. And most of that time was spent in hiding and being absolutely quiet."

"Sorry," Arun apologized. As the waitress came back with their meals, Anais took her turn to talk more about her background.

"My mother was murdered by humans - my father's family, actually - and after the DEO found me, two of the government's employees adopted me," Anais smiled at the thought of her adoptive parents. "They're good people. I love them."

"I'm sorry about Irais," Arun honestly meant it. "But...what was she thinking mingling with humans? Procreating was already a…"

Anais raised an eyebrow, an expression of incredulity flashing across her face. "I'd be careful how you finish that sentence since it's pertaining to me."

"No - I didn't mean it like that!" Arun went wide-eyed once he realized she was right. "It's just...Solaris had a strict rule about procreating with another species. We had these other species sometimes tour on our planet and...well, sometimes they got our people to give them a second look. It's just not right. I mean, look at the consequences you have. Your father never accepted you and his family killed your mother. You yourself only have half of a Solista's abilities."

"And I'm fine with the abilities I have," Anais said calmly despite feeling insulted in about ten different ways.

"I...I just wish that you could have everything you were supposed to have," Arun said, sighing.

Anais grabbed her fork and practically stabbed her pasta with it. She understood what Arun was trying to say and maybe in a way he was right. There were powers that she would never get to experience.

'Hang on, we're hearing of a possible explosion aboard the Venture…'

Anais looked up to the television hanging against the wall. "The Venture…"

"Yeah, humans wanting to reach space," Arun laughed to himself, missing Anais roll her eyes at him.

'Here's all we know at this time. There are over 200 people aboard the craft and the ship itself seems to be propelling down to Earth…'

"Oh my God," Anais dropped her fork on her plate.

'There are no further details, but keep it right here, and we'll continue to bring you the very latest. We can only hope wherever Supergirl and Solar are, we pray they're watching this.'

"I have to go!"

"What? Where!?" Arun scowled as Anais jumped up from her chair. "They'll take care of it!"

Anais was already out the door when he said that. She took off in her speedy run down the streets, picking up her suit on the way, then took off into the sky. She already saw the red cape of her partner and smiled in relief. Supergirl felt the weight of the craft lessen and glanced to see Solar right beside her pushing against the craft's front.

"Good timing!" Supergirl exclaimed.

"What the heck happened!?" Solar groaned as the ship continued to push against their collective force.

Suddenly, they felt a third force join theirs. Supergirl recognized the similar red cape of her cousin and beamed.

"...no frikin way!" Solar was the first to exclaim after seeing Superman smile at them from behind the ship. He breathed an icy air into the engines to force a shut down of its energy.

Between the three aliens, they were able to safely bring the craft into a landing just outside the city.

"That was awesome!" Supergirl laughed when she got to hug her cousin.

Solar practically ripped her away from Superman to have her turn. "Hi! I'm Solar! I love your work!"

Superman laughed at the two women. "Nice to meet you, Solar. I'm a fan of your debut."

Solar screeched and turned to Supergirl. "I really like him!"

"Way to go!" they heard a little girl's voice not too far. The three aliens turned to see a family biking down the road.

The boy next to her pointed at the aliens. "Look, it's Superman!"

"I used to change his diapers," Supergirl felt the need to reveal, making Superman throw her a sharp glance while the boy nearly lost it.

"Uh, not exactly sure you have to tell them that," he whispered but Kara giggled.

"No, I think I really do."

"I think she did," Solar agreed with her own laugh.

~ 0 ~

When Supergirl and Solar brought Superman back to the DEO, there was a whole crowd awaiting to see the Man of Steel. Of course, the man had to stop and greet every employee in the room.

Alex noticed J'onn's grim face as Superman made his way down the crowd. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

"Is...is Superman's appearance a problem?"

"...no."

Alex raised an eyebrow at J'onn but he didn't say anything afterwards. Instead, she heard Winn's squeak beside her.

"Oh. He's coming toward me…" he tried to straighten himself out just as Superman walked up to him.

"Winn, this is my cousin, Superman," Kara almost laughed at his wide-eyed face.

"Hi. I have a million questions," Winn's words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could realize what he was even saying. "When Lex Luthor set off the earthquake in California, did you gauge the focal depth with your X-ray vision?"

"Winn, please breathe," Anais honestly pleaded for him to take a break. He seemed purple around the edges of his face.

"Alex. It's good to see you," Superman hugged Alex next. So far, she seemed like the only one not completely awed by his appearance.

"You, too."

"Kara told me Jeremiah may be alive. And you know your father means a lot to me, so...if there's anything I can do…"

"Thank you, Clark," Alex took his request to heart.

Superman finally met J'onn's hard look and matched expressions with him. "J'onn." Even his tone had flattened.

"Superman. Nice to see you again."

"Oh, don't worry. I won't be staying long."

"Uh, I just invited Superman to visit our mystery guest," Kara jumped into the conversation - if it even qualified as a conversation - before they argued or something along those lines. "Solar, how about you lead the way?"

Anais saw Kara's intentions and of course helped in what she could. "Right this way." And on the way, she grabbed Winn so he could finish asking those questions she knew he was just dying to ask.

~0~

The unconscious man remained just that: unconscious. There didn't seem to be any progress in his state, nor a decrease, but it was difficult to track when they couldn't get any vitals. His hard skin made it far more challenging to do the simplest of things.

"He landed on Earth last night in a Kryptonian pod. We don't know who he is," Anais explained after leading Superman into the room.

"Did you try using a Quantum scan to determine his age?"

"First thing we did," Winn answered since Anais had gotten lost on the point.

"And Kara X-ray-visioned him for foreign objects, like a cybernetic data core?"

There, both Anais and Winn matched in nervous smiles. "She was just going to do that today…" Anais laughed and thanked God that Kara was coming in at that moment. "Kara, remember how you said you were going to use your x-ray vision to see if this guy had any foreign objects?"

Kara's eyebrows raised together, knowing exactly where that came from "Of course I was!" she released a small laugh. "What kind of person would I be if I forgot to do that…"

Superman entertained the show for another minute before very calmly advising, "You should probably go and do that."

"Yeah, okay," Kara x-ray visioned the stranger but saw nothing out of the ordinary. "No, nothing."

There was a ping on the tablet Winn had carried in with him. "Oh, hey, my handy translator just finished decrypting the pod's data log. Now, it seems sleeping beauty on his journey from Krypton passed through something called the Segara Beyal." He showcased his tablet for the three to see an image of a constellation.

"The Well of Stars," Kara recognized first. "My father took me there once. Time doesn't pass there."

"So that's why he's still so young?" Anais gazed down at the unconscious man and wondered what his story was.

"Oh, hey, speaking of age, I've been meaning to ask…" Winn lowered his tablet and garnered a wide, nervous smile. "Superman, you're 12 years older than Kara, right? 'Cause you do not look it."

Superman smiled. "Kryptonians age at a much slower rate here on Earth."

"You look fantastic…"

"When you're finished, we have something more important to talk about," Alex's appearance made the group divert their attention to her.

"Like what?" asked Kara.

"The Venture. The company behind the Venture said there was an explosion when the ship reached low orbit insertion."

"So?"

"Well, if something like that was gonna go wrong it would've happened earlier in the flight."

"The Venture was built here in National City, right?" Anais waited for the others to confirm her question. "Well, then somebody has to know something. That would include on who would gain the most if this craft had actually burned up." The others started agreeing with her and so she added, "And, I don't know, maybe a mild-mannered reporter could make some inquiries while he's here in National City. Perfect cover up."

"The DEO is going to take a very interested look too," Alex promised the man in question.

"Great," Kara clapped a hand on her cousin's shoulder. "You can work out of Catco. Just steer clear of Ms. Grant. She's been in a mood."

"Don't worry, I've got some sway with Cat Grant," Superman promised in a strangely certain way.

~ 0 ~

While Kara returned to CatCo. with her cousin, Clark, Anais decided to stay back at the DEO. She couldn't really see herself returning to Arun just yet. In fact, while she was staying clear of him, she wasn't exactly staying away from him.

"Anais, what are you doing?" Winn's voice startled her into almost dropping the tablet she'd swiped from some poor clueless employee. She was still in the room where the unconscious man remained, making her presence even more suspicious.

"Just...playing Candy Crush?" Her convincing face wasn't really convincing.

Winn raised an eyebrow at her as he further walked into the room. "Really? Cos it seems-" as he moved, Anais purposely slipped the tablet behind her back, "-like you're trying to hide something." And when he tried reaching for the tablet behind her, she jerked to the side with the biggest smile on her face. "Anna?"

Winn stepped back with his arms crossed over his chest. "I could try to take that tablet-"

"But you would fail since I am a speedster."

"Or I could call J'onn?"

Anais' face dropped at the threat. "You wouldn't…"

"I would."

Anais groaned and slowly pulled the tablet to her front. "I liked you a lot before this moment, Winn."

"Yeah, most women don't like me anyways so I'm okay with this."

"I wasn't doing anything bad, I was just...researching."

"About what?"

"Arun…"

Winn paused for a second and looked at her curiously. "Why would you do that? I thought you were going to get to know him today."

"I did, and...while I only heard a little about him, it's...not the best." Anais hated to admit that someone she'd been so excited for was letting her down in the worst way.

"Why? Did he do something? Does the DEO need to go pick him up?" Winn was already turning to leave when Anais grabbed onto his arm.

"No! It's nothing like that," she sighed. "He just kind of sounded...smug, you know? It sounded like he thought he was better than the humans."

"Well," Winn swayed his head, "He is super strong, can fly, has telepathic abilities, has solar powers, is a speedster...yeah, I think he has the makings of someone superior to us."

"Having super powers doesn't make you better than anyone else, Winn," Anais said softly. "Arun can have all that but if he has an ugly personality, then he's the worst of the worst."

"C'mon, Anais, you met him for like what? An hour? You can't know everything about someone in one hour."

"I know, that's why I was just looking him up," Anais raised the tablet. "I wanted to know what Arun did in the community."

"And what came up?"

"Um, just what he said he did. He runs an art shop, does paintings every now and then. He seems like a good man-"

"Then why don't you give him the benefit of the doubt and just get to know him a little more? Maybe there's some qualities that make him a good friend. And listen, if he does turn out to be the worst then by all means kick his ass and bring him back to the DEO."

Anais laughed. "I will."

"Hey," Alex stopped by and poked her head into the room. "We might have found something about the Venture accident."

Both Anais and Winn followed Alex into the main room where they had several photos on the screen.

"Ooh, that's Lex Luthor!" Winn immediately recognized the well known criminal of Metropolis.

"Is it?" Anais knew of Lex, but not what he looked like.

"So we did digging and it turns out that there was one passenger who had a seat booked on the Venture but mysteriously didn't show up last-minute," Alex indicated one of the employees to zoom in on the picture of the trio. "Lena Luthor."

The woman in question was a black haired woman with stark blue eyes. She was smiling at the viewer while Lex and an older woman - their mother - was more or less straight faced.

"Lex's sister," Winn realized. "But Lex can't be involved in this. He's in prison thanks to Superman."

"So we're thinking this time it's Lena," Alex said the obvious but Anais shook her head in disagreement.

"Wait a minute, we're going to assume she concocted this whole thing just because she's Lex Luthor's sister?" Both Alex and Winn stared at Anais with faces screaming 'duh!' at her. Anais set her hands on her hips, extremely disappointed in them. "Guys! That's just wrong!"

"You know what's wrong? All the trouble the Luthors have caused," J'onn joined them and, by the looks of it, to help Alex and Winn.

"Lex Luthor," Anais thought she was correcting them. "Superman fought Lex Luthor, not Lena Luthor. It's prejudicial."

"Look, Anna-"

Anais pointed her index finger at Winn. "If you're going to use that nickname it will not be for prejudicial stuff like this."

"Lena Luthor is Lex Luthor's sister. The entire family is rotten to the core," J'onn said but Anais still wasn't buying it.

"Are there any records of Lena ever being involved in her brother's schemes?" Judging by the silence from the trio, Anais assumed the answer was a big fat no. "Then how can you be sure Lena did this?"

"Kara and Clark are going to visit her right now to get some answers. She just moved to National City so it'll be fast," Alex thought that would help Anais but it just did the opposite.

"You mean send the man who probably already assumes Lena is guilty?" Anais was sure that Clark would just see Lena as another Lex copy. Kara was always more open minded and could probably see more than Lex. Still, Anais felt like she needed to be the unbiased party for Lena's sake. "I'm going to join them."

"What for?" Winn asked.

"To make sure we all stay in line," she turned to leave.

~ 0 ~

Lena Luthor may have a reputation thanks to her older brother, Lex Luthor, but as she led Anais, Kara and Clark into her office she showed nothing but politeness and openness.

"There's a perfectly reasonable explanation for why I wasn't aboard the Venture yesterday." Lena dropped her bag over her desk and sat down to face the three visitors. "There was an emergency regarding the planning for a ceremony I'm holding tomorrow. I'm renaming my family's company, and I had to cancel."

"Ah, lucky," Clark's tone was laced with disbelief, but even that didn't make Lena falter.

Lena, in fact, chuckled. "Lucky is Superman saving the day." Her smile widened when she saw Clark blink in surprise. "Not something one expects a Luthor to say, right?"

"And Supergirl was there, too," Kara said just before clearing her throat to add in an aura of innocence. "Along with Solar."

Lena then turned her attention to her and Anais. She looked them over but didn't necessarily see any familiar features she recognized from the Daily Planet. "And who are you exactly?"

"Um... I'm Kara Danvers," Kara answered with a nervous, tight-lipped smile.

"Anais Allen," went the second blonde in a much more carefree manner. "We're from CatCo magazine."

Lena raised an eyebrow at the two women as a smile spread across her face. "It's a publication not known for its hard-hitting journalism. More like 'high-waisted jeans: yes or no?'"

Kara and Anais exchanged glances with each other before Kara replied, "We're just tagging along today."

"Right. Can we just speed this interview along?" Lena gazed at the three of them with a resignation they didn't understand until she spoke again. "Just ask me what you want to ask, Mr. Kent. Did I have anything to do with the Venture explosion?"

"Did you?" Clark bluntly asked.

Anais sent him a disapproving glance but Lena had been the one to ask in the first place. Even then, Lena just smiled again. "You wouldn't be asking me if my last name was Smith." Her polite sarcasm was surprisingly restrained. Not everyone could remain so put together when being accused with attempted homicide.

"Ah, but it's not," Clark went on like nothing. "It's Luthor."

"Some steel under that Kansas wheat," Lena took in a breath and sighed. "It wasn't always. I was adopted when I was four. And the person who made me feel most welcome in the family was Lex. He made me proud to be a Luthor. And then he went on his reign of terror in Metropolis." She paused and looked away from the three, growing distant the more she recollected the path her brother took on. "Declared war on Superman. Committed unspeakable crimes. When Superman put Lex in jail, I vowed to take back my family's company. To rename it L-Corp." The mention of her company's new name was enough to pull her back to the present. "Make it a force for good. I'm just a woman trying to make a name for herself outside of her family. Can you understand that?"

"Yes, we can," Anais was the one to answer her. "We can really understand that, Miss Luthor." She understood perfectly what Lena was trying to do because she herself was attempting to do the same thing. Sure, her family wasn't evil but the Allens were still a high class family surrounded by governmental science and laboratories. Anais moved to National City in order to make something out of herself on her own. She felt a terrible churn of her stomach due to the guilt of coming for Lena Luthor just for trying to do something good.

"I know why you're here," Lena raised her hands to show she was still acting in good faith. "Because a subsidiary of my company made the part that exploded on the Venture." She got up from her chair and went to a set of drawers on the side of the room, missing when both Kara and Clark x-rayed her entire office. Anais inwardly sighed but knew it was standard procedure. When Lena turned back, she held a USB in hand. "This drive contains all the information we have on the oscillator. I hope it helps you in your investigation." She promptly handed the USB to Clark. "Thank you. Give me a chance, Mr. Kent. I'm here for a fresh start. Let me have one."

"We will," Anais reassured her and was the first to move towards the door.

Once out in the safety of the streets, the three discussed their brief visit.

"I didn't see anything when I X-ray-visioned the room," Clark said as he safely tucked away the USB into his pocket.

"Yeah, me neither," Kara agreed. "What do you think?"

"I've learned through hard experience not to believe anything a Luthor says."

"Yeah, that right there is nothing but prejudicial," Anais turned on both of them, forcing them to stop walking.

"You clearly are new to this life but trust me when I tell you that I know all about Luthors," Clark said, believing to have Kara on her side so he was mighty surprised when Kara sighed beside him.

"Yeah, I know I'm not a reporter or anything, but I kinda believed her."

"And until we find evidence that says otherwise, there's no reason why we shouldn't," Anais grinned at Kara for the support she unintentionally gave for their side. "And, just to cater to both sides, I'll personally keep an eye on Lena from afar."

Clark didn't seem so on board with that but his cellphone rang. "It's Lois," he told Kara and stepped a bit away to answer.

"Shouldn't you be getting back to Arun?" Kara quietly asked Anais once they were alone. "Winn mentioned you seemed a little bit down after your lunch. Was it because you left to help Clark and I with the Venture?"

"No, actually...it was...just some things he said during our lunch," Anais shook her head. She didn't want to keep dwelling on something she couldn't really judge Arun on yet. "I do have to talk to him so, you know, I can get to know him better. Maybe I'm just overreacting, I don't know. What about you and James, though? He couldn't have been too happy about your date being interrupted?"

"Uum…" Kara gave a tilt of her head, "It feels…"

"Kara?"

Kara released a big sigh. "Honestly, it feels like it's a lot more difficult than it should be. I'm trying to juggle being Supergirl and this new job Cat is offering and then when I think about James and dating, I…" she shook her head, making a hand gesture that even she didn't know what she meant. "The spark that I felt before...it's not there anymore."

Anais thought about something but she decided that she wouldn't burden Kara with a thought like that, at least not until Kara gave signs that she was already thinking about it. "Maybe you need to take one thing at a time," she offered instead. "That job offer Cat gave you...that's time delicate so you might want to start with that."

Kara chuckled. "Yeah, maybe so."

"Listen, um, I hadn't mentioned it before but I'm going to talk to Cat as Solar. I feel like it's time," Anais nodded with certainty. She delayed it enough and poor James got all the wrap for it.

"You sure that's what you want to do?"

"Yes, absolutely. It's time she got off James' back for that and it's time for me to start sharing with the city," Anais smiled. She noticed Clark coming back to them and decided to take her leave so the two cousins could spend more time together. "I'll be on the lookout for Lena like I promised."

"Be careful," Clark honestly warned her.

"I'm not bulletproof but I am literally faster than the speed of light," Anais smirked proudly and turned to leave.

~ 0 ~

Alex gripped the folder between her fingers as she walked into the room J'onn was in. "I know why you and Superman aren't the best of friends," she just came out with it. She was sure if she thought about it she would turn around and leave. This wasn't something that could be ignored. "Operation Emerald." She let the file drop on the table beside them and waited to see J'onn's reaction.

The man was stoic but ultimately he did have to wonder. "How did you find out about that?"

"I cross-referenced your personnel file with Superman," Alex crossed her arms and hoped that this would be enough to elicit some type of explanation directly from him instead of getting it all from paper.

It seemed like she was on the right track.

"Back when I first took over the DEO, we got a report about a meteorite coming down in the desert. Superman would work with us back then, so we both headed out to investigate. We got there, it was dark and but I could see something down in the crater. Green, glowing like an emerald. It didn't affect me, but Superman got down there, he started heaving. Passed out."

Alex nodded with understanding. "It was Kryptonite."

"I named it that," J'onn admitted. "Superman wanted to destroy it all."

"But you kept it," Alex didn't mean that as an accusation of some horrible secret he harbored but even she was reluctant to keep such a dangerous object around.

"He was not the only Kryptonian out there, Alex. Their powers are limitless. Now we have a way to protect ourselves from them."

"Except "them" now includes my sister."

"Guys, we may have a problem," Winn made an quick stride into the room, nonethewiser of the tersed conversation just had. "I've been going over the data from Luthor Corp. Now, the oscillator that exploded on the Venture, it was located underneath the main passenger cabin, right?" He wasn't necessarily waiting for either Alex nor J'onn to answer. He just kept going. "In fact, it was housed under seat 23B. And according to the manifest, guess who was supposed to be sitting in seat 23B?" He used his tablet to show them the visual of venture's seating arrangement. "Lena Luthor."

"Lena Luthor wasn't behind the explosion. She was the target," J'onn realized along with Alex. It meant they were dealing with the worst of the Luthors.

~ 0 ~

If the DEO wanted a confirmation that Lex Luthor was trying to murder his baby sister, they got it only one hour after making the first realization. Lena had been almost killed while attempting to fly in a helicopter, but thanks to Solar, Supergirl and Superman she lived to see another day.

Now at the DEO, the team was attempting to analyze a piece of the drone they'd managed to salvage. Winn was the closest, and the most eager, to see just what it was made up.

"This thing is like state-of-the-state-of-the-art! Kind of looks like something my dad might have built in one of his more murdery moments!"

"His what now?" Anais repeated in confusion.

"Nothing," Winn said without thinking. Yes, the world already knew just who his father was but if he could save one mind from knowing a terrible truth, then he was glad it could be Anais.

"We've acquired a partial print from the wreckage," Alex called from the controls. She had Agent Velasquez pulling up a mugshot of the man Anais, Kara and Clark fought earlier. "John Corben. International assassin for hire. He's been linked to Intergang, Kasnian terrorists, and the genocide in Corto Maltese. If you want somebody high-profile killed, this is the guy to hire. But who would want Lena Luthor dead?"

"Hey, where's Kara?" Winn asked after realizing they were short one blonde in the room.

"She, uh, is talking to James," Anais answered, sharing a knowing look with Alex. They wondered when poor Kara would get her thoughts straight. "And where's J'onn exactly? And Clark?"

"Also...talking," Alex knew the irony of the situation.

"Is everyone suddenly talking?" Winn paused just to wonder if he had anyone to talk to. Nope. He was lonely. Anais laughed at his expression, pulling him out of his momentary pensive state. "I have people to talk to," the man argued weakly.

"Didn't your girlfriend turn evil?" Alex raised an eyebrow at him. Winn was frankly offended they would throw that back at him.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure me, Kara and my young adoptive dad kicked her ass," Anais joining in didn't make him feel any better.

Winn opened his mouth but no words came to mind. Still, as he pointed between them something eventually came out. "You both...are mean."

Alex formed a small 'o' with her mouth. "Great comeback. You're almost as good as Kara."

"Well, while this is lovely, I'm going to see if I can convince Miss Luthor to postpone that renaming ceremony." Anais figured it was the best thing Lena could do but she had to see if Lena would be willing to even do it. She seemed really set on the ceremony when they visited her at L-Corp.

~0~

Lena was an exceptionally stubborn woman, Anais came to discover. While Lena went around the public event checking for any last minute changes or mending, Anais trailed after her giving her all the reasons why it would be better to postpone the event.

"I'm sorry, Miss…?" Lena briefly stopped her fast paced walking to look at Anais.

"It's just Anais," the blonde waved off with her free hand. The other hand rested over her camera that was slung around her neck. "And I just really think it's a big risk you're taking continuing on with this event when your brother is...well…"

"Trying to kill me?" Lena finished with no apparent hesitation. It almost made Anais feel sorry for the woman. It seemed like Lena was quite accustomed to aggressive family problems.

"Yeah…"

Lena seemed ready to talk but suddenly looked out to the park. She pursed her red lips together and nodded up ahead. "Do you see how many people showed up?"

Anais didn't understand but she looked over and shrugged. "Well, to be honest, not a lot." Lena laughed softly, knowing that Anais was trying to be polite in her answer.

"My brother's serving 32 consecutive life sentences for some awful things, and now when people think of me or the company...all they see is Lex's madness," she sighed and brought a hand to her forehead, gently rubbing her fingers over her skin. "I'm trying to make a life of my own and that includes this company that I know can be something good to the public."

"I know that, believe me," Anais was quick to say. "I've lived with my parents up until last month. This is the first time I'm on my own, in a new city...with my first job ever." She raised her camera a bit, making Lena smile.

"Then you should understand why I have to do this," Lena started walking towards the platform. "I can't start my life if I succumb to my brother's threats."

Anais had stopped following when Lena reached the platform and decided to mingle instead nearby. She was under the guise of a job - which would end up working to her benefit later when she showed Cat the pictures of the ceremony - but was still going to keep a close eye on Lena. And she knew Alex was nearby as well, keeping an eye on any strangers coming by.

When Lena began to address the crowd, Anais started snapping pictures. She had to admit Lena Luthor had no bad angles because every shot Anais took of her seemed to be perfect.

However, midway through Lena's speech, a laser shot right over Lena and hit a statue instead. It was enough to cause panic amongst the crowd. A couple more lasers shot through and struck a nearby building. Anais forgone her camera - in a safe spot of course - then returned as Solar. She was about to go towards the building when she got word of Supergirl and her cousin.

They would take care of the building so Solar could get the people around them to safety. One by one, she sped the people away but when it came to find the actual target, Solar had to actually fly into the air. She could hear Alex calling out the assassin and flew downwards.

Her eyes glowed gold as she fired her laser and caught the man's back. He screamed in pain when he felt the burn on his skin, but the man didn't catch a break because in the next moment Lena Luthor had made her mark with a bullet. It caught him near the clavicle and set him down.

"Badass," Solar said in utter awe.

"If you're done crushing, Miss Solar, we request that you bring the man back to the DEO," she heard Winn's voice over the comms.

Solar playfully rolled her eyes but did as told and super sped the assassin back to the DEO before he could even process.

~ 0 ~

"You did what now?" Alex gaped at both Anais and Winn the next day. Her dark eyes flickered between the two like a mother who was getting ready to scold her children.

"I asked him to," Anais raised a hand, making sure that everyone who knew would understand that she'd made the call. "I mean, I had some good shots of Lena at her ceremony but I thought the one where she took Corben down would be an extra help in her endeavor to show people she was different from her brothers-"

Alex raised a hand to stop the alien. "You hacked into a public street camera for a picture of Lena?"

"I asked Winn and he was really nice enough to do it-" Anais quickly looked at Winn with a big smile, "-and I have to say thanks again."

"It was nothing," Winn said before realizing Alex was now glaring his way. "O-or was it?" he made a face. "Does this at all jeopardize my new job at the DEO?"

Anais gasped, clapping one hand over her mouth. "Oh my God, does it? I-I didn't mean to - I just wanted to help Lena out. I sympathize with her, that's all."

Because Alex knew Anais was telling the truth, she decided to go easy and avoid them the trouble of being confronted by J'onn. "Our system is not meant to take pictures of people for magazine articles. Don't do that again, either of you." Her moving pointing finger was warning enough for the two in question.

"Got it!" the two chorused.

They waited until Alex left to be able to breath with relief.

"Winn, I am so sorry for that," Anais turned to the man afterwards. "I didn't even consider what would happen...I just thought it would help Lena."

"And it did," Winn said. They had both seen the article Clark had written about Lena that used some of Anais' pictures - which Cat would never know that she had given to the Daily Planet - and thought it was nice that Lena was getting a fair chance to start over.

"Congrats about your new job, by the way," Anais said once things cooled down. They headed for the hallway, intending on returning to the main room. "Sure it's gonna be more fun than working at CatCo."

"Definitely," Winn practically beamed at the thought of all the 'cool aliens' he'd get to see now that he was officially part of the DEO team. "Oh hey, did you ever get back to Arun?"

"No," Anais shook her head, feeling a little guilty she was purposely avoiding that subject.

"Don't you think you should do that?"

"Um, tomorrow," Anais said, though was only half sure of it. "Today I have something else planned."

"Like what?"

"...I've got a date with Cat Grant."

~ 0 ~

Cat was more than prepared for the interview James Olsen had finally set up for (in her mind) her and Solar. It was about damn time, she thought. This was the last thing she needed in her 'bucket list' to feel like she could...move on.

Overlooking the balcony, Cat saw the familiar gold streak zipping down the street. She stepped back when the streak started running up the building. With Solar's arrival, the media queen stumbled back from the force of wind.

"Miss Grant," Solar smiled widely. She had to admit she was fairly excited to do this interview. Kara had warned her that Cat was no joke when it came to interviews but it didn't scare Solar. She just wanted people to finally get an idea of who she was.

Cat got over her initial surprise fairly fast. She grabbed the recorder she left on the table and made a gesture that she wanted to turn it on. Solar gave her the nod to go for it.

"Curious, do you prefer running or flying?" Cat pointed out the balcony. "Because we've seen you do both…"

"Because I'm a speedster, I go about the same speed whether it's running or flying...but I like to run. It gives me some exercise," Solar made the motion of someone jogging.

"So, you're not of the same place as Supergirl nor Superman?"

"Nope," Solar popped the 'p' in that word. "I'm actually a unique case for my people. I am half human and half alien. A hybrid, if you will."

"Your half human?" Cat blinked in surprise. Solar nodded and allowed Cat to say her assumptions out loud. "One of your parents is human then...amazing…"

"They're both gone," Solar said before Cat started on a crusade to fish out the two. "It's just me and, um, that man that you saw the last time?"

"Name?"

"He hasn't picked one. Actually, I don't know if he's joining us, but he's not a danger to the public."

"So where are you from, then? I mean the alien part of you, anyways."

Solar smiled for a moment. "I'm from a planet called Solaris. My people are natural speedsters and can wield the sun's powers."

"Do you know if there are any more of them on this planet?"

"No, not really."

"And you…" Cat moved forwards, startling Solar for a second. Cat's eyes were scrutinizing the alien up and down. At one point, she started to circle Solar. "Where did you come from? I mean, you showed up only a bit after Supergirl. Where've you been?"

"Training," Solar could honestly say. "Because I'm half human, I developed my powers a lot later than my people typically do."

"And is that why you showed up, now? Because you were done training?"

"Yes, and no," Solar sighed. "Look, I'm not here to be painted as a hero with a tragic backstory, nor a wannabe Supergirl. I'm here because of who I am. I am Solar, half human and half alien. I was born on this planet," she pointed her index finger down, "So this is my home. You are my people too and I want to help. I want to do my part in the community."

"A bit cliche…" Cat's lips twitched into a smirk.

"But it's the truth and there's nothing to be ashamed of," Solar shrugged. "That's why I came to you, to tell you and your readers that I am here whenever I am needed and wanted." She tilted her head when another idea popped into her head. "Oh, right, and for you to lay off James. Don't threaten his job to get more interviews, please."

Cat's smirk fully developed. "Got your attention, didn't it?"

Solar playfully shook her head. "This interview is now over. Have a good night, Miss Grant." She gave a mock salute with her two fingers before rising into the air. She would definitely be looking forwards to reading Cat's article.

#ocappreciation #arrowverseocs #fd: supergirl #supergirl #winn schott #winn schott fics #winn schott imagines #supergirl fics #supergirl imagines #winn schott x oc #oc: Anais Mjorkland #oc: anais allen-mjorkland #fic: sweet ambitions

5 notes · View notes

erstwhilesparrow · 2 years ago

Text

this happens just about every year, around this time when the sunsets start going from sharp to buttery. it's always the same, but the funny thing is i can't bring myself to be bothered by that. i want to tell you about it. here, sit with me a minute?

the bridge is concrete most of the way through, beige-ish grey. coming up on it on the bus, it looks like a solid hill, rising up toward the palely blue sky. the moon is a thin radish slice stamped on the vault of the heavens, and if you get the hour right, the sun paints the whole inside of the bus golden-yellow. if you were driving, you would feel the pull of gravity as the incline gets properly going, would have to set your foot a little firmer on the gas pedal and insist on the climb. if it's windy, the rattle of our means of conveyance drowns it out.

underneath, unfurling from the underside of the bridge, there's train tracks, long metal lines joining this part of the city to the rest of it. sequins of light spark from the windows of the skyscrapers that make the horizon on our left. on our right, more tracks, and flat-roofed buildings, squat as toy blocks, not dusty but very settled. with words, the landscape is crowded, but it's really a rather sparse space. you can imagine this is the sort of place people from downtown escape to. look a little further, and the blues of the horizon might be water, might be mountains, might be sky.

we're at the top of the bridge now; this is the best view you're going to get. pay a little more attention to the bus with me. yes, there are people in here. yes, their lives are many and varied. the sun flares off the curve of a metal support into your eyes. don't turn to look, but there's a girl in the back, and i think i know her. her head is turned toward the windows on the left, same view we just had. her headphones are a peachy pink, her bag plain and practical and maroon. her coat is black down to the fur trim on the hood. her hijab is blue, some shade more alive than the sky.

but it's not really the girl i'm thinking of. it might be her. it might be my heart. that's the sweet agony of it: i don't know, and i won't ask. the girl i see sitting back there, one day, one day soon, it will be ten years since we were both twelve and i adored her so fiercely it calcified as physical pains in the place where my ribs point toward each other. when we last spoke as those twelve-year-old girls, she gave me a card with a whole world inside it, where we would be close as sisters forever. i think of her, and i think of the girl behind us who might be her but who won't meet my gaze even if it is her, and i am reminded again that i really, really believe this: whatever i feel for her now is the closest i will ever get to falling in love.

i didn't get to tell her, but i have to carry the memory with me now: one saturday, still a child for whom saturdays meant an impassable space between one waking hour under the covers and another seated at the dining room table, i started dreaming a garden for us. it's still in me somewhere, not the flowers i wasn't sharp enough to learn, not the exact place i built up the little wooden house we would share, but the shape of that garden, all winding paths, tall grass, and a bench we would sit on together to watch the seagulls call.

i cannot tell you this and make you understand how true it is, but i must say it anyway. there is a piece of my heart that will always be for her. i don't think of her often (this thing in my chest is neither leash nor thorn) but i have a tenderness for her that refuses to run out. she doesn't know it. i don't know her. we are not sisters anymore, and the garden lost its gate when my first phone went dark, but this girl--

if i just turned my head, do you think we could find our way into each other's lives again? if she was willing, i think i would be amenable to that.

ah, but we have seen each other from opposite sides of long hallways before, and she didn't want to see me, so i didn't see her. looking through the windshield, we can see the slope all the way down now, how the hill continues past the end of the bridge, on and on careening between buildings toward the shore. the water level around here used to be higher. the place we are going used to be underwater. pull the cord, please; the next stop is ours.

#sparrowsong

2 notes · View notes

xmiisuki · 13 days ago

Note

Hii! I know you made a hardcover for HWE, so I felt as if I had to tell you this:

Umi has been exposed for blatant plagiarism and use of AI in her works. For evidence, I recommend checking out this user called @.manikas-whims . They have provided proof of plagarism. (As for the proof of use of AI, I think you can find it upon further research)

Apparently, upto 66% of her work is AI generated. And she copied two fics (both of which are now deleted).

Your rejection may cause her to finally cave in and realise the severity of her actions. It may ellicit a response from her, So, please, look into the matter.

I hope this situation is resolved peacefully! Peace ✌️

Hi Anon, thank you for the heads up! I apologised for answering late, I was working nonstop for my shift. Anyway, this might be a long post and will be my only answer to do this. So I'm very open-minded when it comes to this...chaos.😅

I am clearly very aware and done my own research around here in tumblr without any word. And yes, I looked into the matter checking out Manika's blog along the original fanfic authors Zombie and Venus(?) blogs since the day of the hate shoutout. So right after, I even made a conversation with Umi as well too. I had only discovered Umi and other fanfic authors since Sylus released (July).

First of all: I'm not mad or upset, I maintained my thoughts about this situation as this is not my first time seeing an author plagiarized or regards in the writing field. Since this sets in the fanfiction world, which is the most complex and complicated media to visit, not like in the real publishing world when it is completely different. Publishing is a straightforward fact that plagiarizing with AI is a huge No-No deal. However, we know both worlds still apply for copyrights, writers' rights, analyzing infringement, writing structures, plagiarism detect, and use commercials in the community. I won't get any details in these things since we'd already learned these stuff on our own accords.

Before I get into the fanfic issue, I used to be both as Author's Moderator and Social Moderator in Webnovel (WN) for nearly 10 years. Both positions are a bit different to one another, but it is still a moderator working with the editors for the author. Personally, in my experience, I used to be immature mod during those early 2 years when I found out about the thief-author copying the same exact scenes from my long-time author's multiple published work (which she's still in official contract in WN). I was a different person to do hating, spreading, posting, and watching them like a hawk just as the same unhealthy ways like the anons and the people from the other side to call out the thief in the opening. We tried possible ways to report it and take it down. Even my author sent an appropriate DM to that thief to take it down in WN but no responses coming from that author. In the results, the company and the thief don't do anything and no proper resolvement. The thief never takes the action as she took it selfishly for her own pleased, its a true story she won WN award of the month along her personal book badge medal for readers. It's a horrible experience to go through, and it bothers me, my author, and to the readers very often. This happened like 4 times? Multiple times? I forgot it's a long time. Personally, what we did is move on and create things better properly. There is nothing much we could to the thief but letting them be in disgraced since they don't like taking the responsibility of their action.

The reason I mentioned that experience is because I am seeing a similar situation here with Umi and the rest, but on the opposite side "what if your author plagiarized." I come to see and learned now that putting myself in someone's position looking forward to your fanfic author who writes a series which you were really invested on copying just one or more scenes while the rest of its work is completely came up original concept; it will hurt majorly of the readers, especially for the OG fanfic authors out there. It caused many emotional/mental damages and never found a good justice. That based, it will be out of hand and out of control as we humans want more negative outcomes.

I do agree OG fanfic authors like Zombie need justice for it, knowing they worked hard writing original in their descriptive ways at any typical genre like smuts, fluff or dark romance, etc.

Though, when it comes to calling out on a person online with a full hatred, like sending death threats, telling a blogger to go fck themselves and suicide attempts? That is a different story from plagiarism and the most horrifyingly to witness. It's a cyberbullying/behavior issue.

In other cases, honesty, this might be my most unpopular opinion; fanfiction is half plagiarised no matter what. Because fans are using the canon character that was already established in the world to use it on their accords' biased fanfiction work. Which it is why its fairly commercials in the works of writing. Fanfiction is free to everyone to be entertained, and we can all agree in a same common ground that fanfiction is actually a good start for practicing writing and come up with our own concepts by using the existing elements. Overall, it's fiction.

There's no need to be exaggerating over fanfiction. I've seen a lot of readers in both fanfiction-multiple-fandoms and published worlds gets toxic over plagiarism as if its a biggest crime in the writing world. You know what's the worst scenario than plagiarism? Making fanfictions as PROFITS. People sometimes forgot about it. Fanfiction profits are highly illegal no matter how the story is good and transformatively original plot goes; the readers, company, or the rightful owner will sue the author without a source of permission for using canon fictions to make money.

In one way or another, the truth about fanfiction is that it is never perfect. You will encounter and always find lots of mischaracterized characters, settings, world-building, misutilized magic system which is improperly 100% so far off away from the main officials like Love and Deepspace, Harry Potter, Final Fantasy, Naruto, Genshin, Attack on Titan, One Piece, Jojo, etc. All of them have in one common which its: fiction.

There is something I also wanted to talk about off-topic plagiarism despite fanfiction works. Don't we all agree that we did the same thing to plagiarised our homework when we were students once in our school/college days, to ask your bestie or classmate's homework to see their answers? Or copying the work you found online before the time deadline or any reasons that the homework is too difficult to solve? I'm pretty sure all of us have done it once or who knows how to count in this lifetime hahaha! Ofcourse, it is not funny, but it is the truth. We copy each other's work. Don't you think I didn't know 50 Shades of Grey is basically ripped off Twilight fanfiction entirely? No. Did it upset me? Not really. Did it changed everything that I visionalized, especially my favorite characters, that it is almost copied from one work to another? Yes, indeed. My coworker, who is a professional writer, even told me that Star Wars is also fanfiction from the bible (not directly but symbolically parallels to say). Even AIs are also plagiarised. Everything you'll see and what you find, it is all plagiarised or rewording if you wanna call it. I'm not saying plagiarism is allowed, I am truly against it. What I am saying is that plagiarism has been so heavily common nowadays that we are seeing the same thing over and over but a different retelling. That is why it is so hard to try to come up with original ideas. Some people don't realize this fact because their mentality is too busy to defend their favorite things believing it's original.

My digital bookmarks for my author in WN was also plagiarised. I was very upset about it so yes, I understood what Zombie and Manika's positions were. However, it's different because this is about fanfic in community where people can be aware to report and tell, not dealing with the company who won't do crap about it. What I think the best solutions for all these hate to stop between these fanfic authors (Umi, Manika, Zombie, Venus, etc) is by:

1.) Communication. A personal DM author-to-author is a great start discussing the issue and drama, comes in term to be respectful and take responsibility for the action privately. Without it, like I said from my experience, no communication will lead toxicity, or yet...it will bring the worst parts in the community, especially in fanfiction world.

2.) Public statement. I know people HATES the silence from author-thiefs. For not doing author's notes aside about appropriate apology. I get that, been there done that. I don't like it as well too, but if you have been observing the fanfic author's personality, and their answers answering anons' questions; you will know that this author will be transparent as possible to build that kind of relationship with readers. There are lot of times readers will twist around the author' statement (trust me, I've seen this alot and it never stops there), depending on the person to believe the author's admitted faults. It's not only Umi, it is actually the whole entire fanfic authors out there. As long the author communicates to their readers for what happened, the transparency counts that authors can give the options to readers where readers can either choose to stay as continue to support the author, for better improvement and growth or leave the author and find another story to like. It is up to the readers' choice, and how they want to believe in the author. Trust and transparency of who you are as an author is a main thing that captures readers' hearts. The combinations of words and taking actions together in online will define a person's personality. No action statement = No valid acceptance. The lies is the worst thing to hear and its painful than hearing the truth as its less painful.

3.) Rewrite it. It is that simple. Or, give credits for that kind of inspiration. It is never too late to rewrite from what happened and start making up on your own. We all went English class once, our teacher knows telling us to rewrite our paragraphs after it's done reviewing. It's also recommended for fanfic authors that needs a beta reader before the chapter goes out to the world. It is not difficult to ask for help or asking questions if the story is good or not. A feedback is a good tool for any writers. Fanfiction is a point where imperfections are placed on. In example like Menacled by Senlinyu, a Harry Potter Draco x Hermoine fanfiction. Those characters were technically not canon to be together in the books or movies. Harry Potter in her fanfiction is mischaracterized for being a brat. The Handmaid's tale in Menacled is basically plagiarized ideal, but taking that idea in the Wizard world is not so bad to be entertained by Sen's genius concept. Which is why she's successful to rewrite her own world for actual publishing , later at the end of this year dates, she has to take down the Harry Potter system due for copyright infringement. Or else it is penalized to steal and plagiarized.

Am I defending Umi? Clearly no. What I am saying is we all been there done that of plagiarism. It is very common now everywhere, anywhere, and in educations. We just never realized and adapting to think we really are making our ideas original. So I completely understand that all of these authors Umi, Manika, Zombie/Venus where they come from.

I am a very die-hard fan that I love to look forward to something for reading and interact, and that is where my social stands are earning as an author's moderator to do get-to-know-about-authors. To see authors or any potential writers whether it's published or fanfic in examples like: how they communicate to readers, what is their concept, do they know well of their characters; plot; story; setting; world-building in writing? What is this author's personality, are they good or bad to the readers? Will they build a good relationship with the audience? How will they answer the reader's question. Are they transparent and be true to themselves? Etc. Etc. This clearly why I ended up following Umi, because I can tell this author can write write more than thousand word counts like a published author would do. I can see she can answer and build her relationships with readers according to my examples above I mentioned. She can write. It's just that plagiarism is the main problem that kills the mood here. If other people don't see it that way? That is okay! Because everyone has their own opinions and valid. There is no need to give hates on. Simply ignore it if they don't like the content.

For the HWE hardcover part, I will put hold for now until everything settles down. I talked to Umi about it, definitely ofc she respectfully understands whether I want to do it or not because of the situation. It is up to me to create a binding physical copy as I was the one to bring up this idea of mine.

I really hope this chaotic drama will bypass in the future and clears up between Umi, Manika, Zombie, Venus, and to everyone out there who were effected by it. But I know for sure LADS fandom or any fandom fans out there who will discover fanfic works will take no heart to accept this because the damaged is already done. Long last conversation I had with Umi was about giving the best solutions/advices, and most importantly, try to make things right so no hates can further spread to both sides of the party. I'm highly sure and confident that she will make a public statement of the faults here. Give her time in despite ch14 posted, she's only young writer in her early 20s to learn about in the writing field. It takes a lot of mental power as everyone is different to handle the situation, especially receiving tons of death threats in their inbox. If she do posted her statement, hear her out first what she has to say before clashing the harsh comments. It's not so hard to listen first before shoving something down someone's throat. And I hope Zombie and her fans will also have justice and have a heart of acceptance. We're all imperfect humans. I'm not perfect, I made alot of mistakes too. 🤷‍♀️ It's okay to agree to disagree whichever points I said and mentions in this post. All opinions are valid, just not in a harsh utmost aggressive bullying behavior.

Hope this helps and clears the misunderstanding. 💜

Kudos to Zombie, Umi, Manika, Venus, Roma, whoever has the talent of writing despite pretty or ugly, writing is a beautiful ability. 🫶🏻 I enjoy every fandom contents such like anime or gaming fanfics. I don't know how to write stories like that, especially sexy smuts. 😂

0 notes

that-darn-clown · 1 month ago

Note

came here to ramble about my boy bl!Sammy. both in regards to him being (Mostly) nonverbal and about how he reacted to Charlie's murder.

so. to start:

Sammy is, for the most part, nonverbal. he Can speak, but only with single-word answers or short phrases. anything more than that, and he starts stumbling over his words until he's eventually just mumbling or unable to speak anymore. it's not like Cassidy, where it depends from situation to situation. for Sammy, that's...just how it's always worked for him. he's basically Charlie's exact opposite; she's hyperverbal (and he sure puts the 'hyper' in hyperverbal, i'll say that).

i looked it up to see what forms of AAC would've existed around the late 70s-early 80s, but. there weren't many that i could see Henry being able to Realistically get both during the time period and that i could see a child at that time using.

but!! AAC is not limited to just devices!! it can literally be as simple as just drawing and writing! so here's what i think Sammy would do depending on the situation:

One-Word Answers/Short Phrases: pretty much just for answers in class, especially math. it's why math, and subjects like it, are his favorites. they don't require any long complicated answers, not usually.

Sign Language: not very often. he only has a couple of teachers during his life that know sign language, and most people around him outside of his family, The Aftons, and a few of his friends, don't know sign language. now, Charlie does. it's why they're usually put together in classes, outside of them being twins; that way, if Sammy does know an answer to a question, he'll sign it to Charlie, and he'll answer for him.

Writing: what he usually does. if any question in math class includes "how did you get that answer?" he's generally allowed to go up to the board and write it out. he's got Several journals/notebooks that just contain his answers/responses to people.

Drawing: not as often anymore. this used to be how he communicated before he learned how to write, but he would still do it nowadays if either A) it's convenient, or B) he's in a state where talking, writing, or sign language would be too complicated due to being in distress or having shaky hands (so during something like a panic attack or meltdown).

important to mention: Sammy also has really bad anxiety (and issues with paranoia).

now!! onto Sammy post-Charlie's murder!

fucking devastated. obviously.

he sort of always Knew it was William. he doesn't know How he knew, but he Knew (some days he thinks maybe it was Charlie herself somehow. maybe he tried telling Sammy from beyond the grave)

...which makes the fact that Henry still let William watch over Sammy after the murder that much more sad.

William started to catch onto the fact that Sammy Knew very quickly...and Boy did he take advantage of that. he scared that poor boy half to death.

so uh....Entirely Unrelated (lying), but Sammy's anxiety got REALLY bad between 1981-1985. like the kid was having very frequent and pretty common panic attacks.

Henry, for the first couple of years, didn't understand what was going on and chalked it up to Sammy struggling in the aftermath of Charlie's death. uh. He Did Figure It Out Around 1983, Though.

by the time Fnaf 2 happens, Sammy is less scared and more Angry at William. and it's only gonna get worse.

anyway, Little Dark Age by MGMT fits bl!Sammy rather well.

(also, i drew the MCI kiddos and Charlie!! just thought i'd let you know bestie :])

The cutieeeee the beloveddddddd

#the clown! it speaks!#the clown! it answers!#me when you make a nonverbal character 🛐

0 notes

jaibyday114 · 2 months ago

Text

Teenage Drama Queen

Do you like my hair? I like your face. I like your outfit. I thought you looked cute today. I know I look silly sometimes. I don’t look like these other girls. But I feel like you may be attracted to me. I think that I am attracted to you too. I would like to talk to you and speak to you when I don’t feel awkward and under pressure.

Also, you're weird. Also, I wish I would quit running into you like that. Um, ya. You just are freaking me out a little bit. Like quit puffing your chest. When you were looking down from the bleacher thing, and I was on the ground, it kind of felt like we were going to do that Romeo and Juliet bit. You Juliet and I’m Romeo. Gnomeo and Juliet. I just watched that. I feel like you are a little bit obsessed with me, (canon) and I think that might make us compatible.

Um, this is my story and I’m sticking to it. You know if we were on tv, we would have something called “homo eroticism” and “tension” which I think is weird, that people are unreliable narrators because I would like to step out of my body and be an impartial viewer. Just so I know for sure. But anyway. Uh, it would be funny if you were attracted to me. I kind of think your taste is bad, but maybe I am wrong.

I am very tasteful. I don’t know if you're obsessed with me in a negative way or positive way. But the sexual tension sholl is there. Anyway, This is for you! (Me)

Baby you my everything you're all I ever wanted we can do it real big bigger than we've ever done it.

Weirdly Suggestive at best.

Sixteen. I forget. That I am only exhibiting regular teenage girl behavior. And some might argue that I am better off than the rest. So, you're lucky I’m not worse, and I keep mine to mine.

You’re still sixteen, huh? you turn seventeen in January. Were both the front faces of Aquemini huh? That’s crazy. You are only the second aquarius I have ever liked, and attractive.

Something you may learn about me someday is that I love Sex and the City in a very real way. I am eating hysterically because I am existing entirely in my own head. If you had a camera set in my room right now, you would think I am some kind of schizophrenic, because I am very much actively interacting with a world of my own making. I like to think you would find it amusing.

I caught myself being quite stoic and nonchalant, I don't know where it is coming from out of me. Saying things so casually like, “It doesn’t really matter.” or “it is what it is”. I never would want to let on that I do not care, because I believe I am the exact opposite. I care a lot. I'm sure you've heard that line a lot. It is twenty-twenty-four if you wanna believe it.

This other nerdy-looking dude was engaging with me earlier, and I felt it in my you-know-what. I don't know if this is too much information for you. But the consideration to involve me, in his very simple natural surroundings, was quite hot. I felt comfortable to tell you the truth. Awkwardness and all. And when I’m comfortable, I am cool. Believe dat.

Anyway, I just wanted you to know that you may be missing out. And our discomfort when relating with each other just puts more distance between what were supposed to be, and how we get there. Maybe, we just build each other up too much, and we neglect ourselves in the process. In other words, sit down and pipe down. Maybe that would be beneficial.

*A Quintessential Story

1 note · View note

uncouth-the-fifth · 2 years ago

Text

(you are a) natural, baby - Sam Winchester/Reader

read it on ao3.

Pairing: Virgin!Sam Winchester/AFAB!Reader (vaguely s1 or 2) Tags/Warnings: blowjobs, deepthroating, Impala sex, whiny/submissive Sam (with hints of the opposite). nothing too insane. yk the deal. Word Count: 11034 Notes: hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii. i've been. thinking about sam lately. and i MAY or may not have had the most vivid wet dream of my life... which may or may not have inspired this slightly........... enjoy! there will be a sequel btw ;) for plot's sake, yes, Sam is 23 and is still a virgin 🍾 Ask to be added to my taglists for future posts!

You couldn't believe your luck.

You notched the car into park, lips parted in disbelief. Holy shit. Rain bore down on the car from all sides, making an already dark night impossible to walk in, nevermind drive. Baby—or the Impala, you corrected yourself, since Sam always poked fun at you for picking up Dean's little nickname—had puttered out her last huff of warm air a few miles back. That left at least another hour’s worth of driving until you were back to Dean, who was waiting back where your present job was. There was no way you could get back in this weather. It'd be past midnight soon anyway, so…

You played your fingers on the wheel. Bent over it, squinting at the rain. Slumped back in your seat. All the while, Sam watched you go through the motions passively. He already knew what you knew: you'd have to camp here for the night. Just the two of you. Alone.

The universe had done everything short of smashing you together like kissing barbies. In this week alone, the messy line of feelings between you and Sam had been tested at least a hundred times. It was obscene. Ever since Sam's twenty-third birthday, all the forces of nature had woken to remind you at every turn how stupid horny you were for him. Sam was no longer the beanpole you could easily throw while sparring; there was a man in your passenger’s seat, a good deal taller than you on miles and miles of leg, with handsome, veiny arms and a lap made for sitting in. Your childhood crush had been nursed so long that it'd grown into love. But now that you were a twenty-five-year-old, full-time hunter, there was little room for a childhood novelty. You had instead made space for a covetous, needy desire that the universe loved to throw in your face.

Monday. Sam had helped Dean out with one of the less-than-junk cars in Bobby's yard, bent up under the bonnet, sweat and grime making his tee cling to the landscape of his back. And Jesus, what a landscape it was… Sloped and firm with experienced, long-developed muscle. Tuesday. Dean got on the subject of blowjobs, and Sam immediately got off the subject. Significantly, you learned he's never had one. Your mouth watered just sitting next to him. Wednesday. You risked using the last towels in the pile for your shower, each just big enough to close and cover your modesty—if you don’t stand up straight. Sam caught you coming out of said shower. He looked, looked some more, and you sniped at him for it around the saliva building in your mouth. All you wanted to do was claw his jeans around his ankles and blow him until he forgot his name. Sam lingered like he wanted the exact same thing, and both of you pretended to ignore the tent in his pants. Thursday. Sam coached you in long-bowing. You stood just inches apart in an empty field, Sam's shoes between your in the grass, and you fucked up every damn shot because Sam's massive hands were on your waist and your hips and in your belt-loops. He'd lean in until he was almost kissing the shell of your ear and say, S’ alright. Just focus on your footing. You're doing great, even though you hadn't hit a single target. Friday. You, him and Dean left for a North Dakota case. You had to share a bed with one of the boys, and Sam reminded you what sharing meant the whole night, huffing soft moaning breaths against the back of your neck in his sleep.

You resist the urge to clamp your thighs together. It'd been freezing cold in your room and you’d been sharing beds since you were young; to have just your backs pressed together was impressive. At one point, you turned over and Sam stretched back to meet you, his warm spine flush to your chest without hesitation, flaying you instantly. He’d seeped back into the mattress as content as could be. You resisted the urge to run your fingers through his floppy hair, or caress the smooth strip of flesh that the seam of his shirt didn't cover. You failed at the first—but to be fair, Sam's hair was in your face and it was annoying you and you had to be close, because the room was so cold. And your hand just ended up there. And then it ended up under his shirt, your nails stroking his stomach, because Sam was a tease who'd dragged your arm around him in the first place. He'd been shaking, it was so cold. You couldn't just let him freeze. Regardless, it was hard to say no to him when he was smoothing your palm against his ribs like that.

“Think we can make a run to get the blankets from the trunk?” Sam invited. “I can do it if you give me the keys.”

You wanted to say more to that, but you settled instead on taking the keys out of the Impala and dropping them in Sam’s waiting hand. “Thank you,” you murmured, and Sam bobbed his head once before braving the weather.

He was gone for less than a minute, but the clinging silence that rang in your ears could’ve gone on forever. The rain pounded across the car with a vendetta, plunking off the metal and hammering over your empty parking lot just as hard. It raced down the glass fast enough to make the outside world a shimmering blue mirage. Sam’s figure was a darker silhouette closer to the glass, and you busied yourself putting a sweater on as he dove inside.

“Dammit,” Sam cursed. He knew better than to shake his hair out on Dean’s good leather, so he tossed down the blankets in between you—and there was a generous gap—to hunt around the backseat for a towel. The amber streetlights gave you just one glimpse of Sam’s rain-streaked face. It shouldn’t have flushed your belly with want as much as it did, but that’s half the reason you were in this mess.

“S’ bad out there,” you said, obviously. Sam agreed with a hum, and together you sorted yourselves for relaxing before you slept.

Before, you’d had the car on and the heater going, so you were mostly okay with your jackets tossed in the backseat. Sam had on a tee and a moss-colored sweater to keep him warm, and you had the thought of his firm muscle underneath those layers to keep you warm. Though more cold had seeped back into the Impala, you didn’t put on your jacket, toeing off your boots in the footwell. You piled on your blankets and curled up against the seat, Sam doing the same. He hadn’t put his jacket on either.

You shared a glance. Well, it was more like Sam was already looking at you and you caught him, flushing up to your ears. “There’s no way we won’t make it there til morning,” he said, “I’ll text Dean.”

“Good idea,” you agreed. You brought your legs closer to your chest, bumping Sam’s thigh with a stray foot. To your surprise, he glanced up at you at the contact, and again you found one of his coy glances. You couldn’t believe it. Was he...?

All four burners in your body flicked onto a simmer at the same time. You bit your lip, taking him in as he was illuminated by his phone’s screen, wet twisting curls of hair in his eyes. “S’ okay. I don’t think Dean will care, with how slow this case is going. Though I can guess why you’re so eager to get back,” you tested the waters with a sly smile. “That witness—Miss Checknik, she was really aiming to get you alone, huh?”

Sam was still raw from Dean pressing his buttons on this, so he was shier than usual when he mumbled, “It’s… not like that… I’ve never even done that before.”

“What?” you blurted. “Had sex?”

Sam’s gaze snapped up to yours. Around you the rain roared, but you still caught his subtle hitch of breath. His pause went on for another telling amount of time, until Sam’s ears were red too. “...It’s not like you have either,” he muttered.

This had to be on purpose. You tossed an arm over the back of the seat, knuckles against your cheek and a growing, sly smile on your face.

Sam sat up. “You’re kidding. Really?”

You slouched, huffing. “What, is that a surprise or something?”

“No,” Sam spoke a little too quickly, like he’d been thinking about it. He swallowed. “No, not at all. I was just…”

You wet your lips and let your eyes drift over him. Sam sat stiff in your passenger's seat, legs crossed a little too tightly, his hands folded together over his lap, hiding a building, jealous hard-on. A muscle jumped in his neck. The shivery warmth that reigned over you every time Sam entered the room conquered you again, watching him squirm, and you couldn't help but do the math. You could… you could make an offer. If he said no, that was fine. All you’d have to do was endure a night's sleep in the car with him then a few awkward days afterward—but you and Sam had done that dance a hundred times before, after kissing for spin-the-bottle or getting caught lusting after each other, so maybe this was it. This week had been filled with omens.

You went all in.

“We travel a lot and it relieves stress, so… I’ve picked up a few dates. Bar-flings, heat-of-the-moment stuff with hunters, every once in a while.”

You risked a glance at him through your lashes. Sam had inched closer to listen, just enough for you to notice, and was clearly trying to sculpt his face into something less interested—but his eyes were glazed and his attention was rapt. You had him right on the hook.

Sam swallowed. His voice was thick with arousal. “I, um, didn't know that was your thing.”

You shrugged, “I don’t enjoy it as much as Dean does, but yeah. The guys I pick up, I mean—they’re okay. Most can't find their way around a bra, never mind… well, y’know. You get what you can get. But the other parts, the fun parts of sex…” Even you were blushing at how dirty your smile felt. “I'm real lucky, Sam. Most girls don't get off making their partners happy, but I do. It's… made me real good.” You twisted so your chest was pushed toward him, feeling yourself ache in your jeans. You hushed coyly: “I’m told I’m a real natural with my mouth.”

“Really.” Sam repeated. He sputtered out a half-hearted chuckle. His cheeks had gone all cute and ruddy with a blush, exposing the lighter moles on his face.

“Really,” you promised.

The look on Sam's face went beyond teasing, now. You’d told yourself you were just messing around with him, but Sam was twitching in his seat, suddenly unable to sit right, and all the years of play-flirting had apparently stacked too high. Something hot and magnetic had brought you closer and closer together in the Impala’s front seat. Sam was frozen like he wanted to crawl out into the rain and disappear—always so shy, so easy—but something else rooted him to the spot this time. One more motion and you could close that measly gap blazing between you, get his skin pressed firmly to yours. Your arms and back and belly crawled with a phantom itch, and Sam's hands looked so perfect and big that you knew they could fix that feeling. Your mouth felt wet and lonely. Sam's was right there, panting as he waited for you to do something.

“Have you really never had sex before?” You filled Sam's flushed silence. You scrutinized him, brows furrowed with sympathy. “Not even a blowjob?”

Sam's whole body hitched like a slow to start engine at the word. He temporarily forgot himself, choking on his breath and roaming his sweaty palms across his thighs—uncovering, for just an instant, the outline of something firm and big in his jeans.

Still, Sam's eyes couldn't shake yours.

“Um, no,” Sam admitted. “Never had t-the… opportunity, I guess. Or the right person.”

“Would you?” You scrambled to let the words loose, then resettled in your seat, lounging back and stifling your excitement. Sam's dick. Sam's big, virgin dick in your mouth. “If the right person…” you gestured vaguely, like this was still at all a hypothetical, “gave you the opportunity?”

It took Sam a second, eyes flickering fast over your face beneath his bangs, but eventually, he gave a single short nod.

A nuclear reactor’s worth of heat sizzled up from your toes. It bubbled out of you in a pleased, purring sigh, and you could barely suppress your grin, your butterflies, your nervousness, when you crawled into the cold space beside him on the bench. You leaned in slow by his ear. Your nails played across his thudding pulse, his taut neck, spurring Sam’s breaths into gasps. At an agonizing pace, you dragged your soft nails behind his ear, to the tingling nape of Sam's neck, and relished in the feel of his flesh like a vampire as you stroked him there. The blunts of your nails scratched gently at his hairline. Sam squeezed out a soft moaning sigh, so sweet and trusting that you closed your eyes to soak in it all the way.

After a few strokes of your nails to Sam's shivering skin, you fanned your warm breath down his shuddering collar and barely kept yourself from moaning in his ear: “I’m real smart with my mouth, Sammy… I could make your first time good for you. Better n’ good, even.”

He sat there in utter disbelief. Sam breathed hard, and now that your hand was on him, his squirming had stopped. After a deep, weighing pause, Sam removed his hands from his lap and slid them down to his knees instead, tasting the growing appetite in his mouth.

“...What would it feel like?” The rasp in his voice made you instantly wet.

You flushed. “You want me to describe it to you?”

Sam gave a shy shrug of his shoulders, playing innocent, but that clever smile of his had been haunting you all week. He knew precisely what he was doing. “Never had one,” Sam reminded.

The car was suddenly boiling. You had kicked off your blanket a long time ago, and so had Sam, which left you in layers that neither of you wanted anymore.

“Well,” you breathed out, amused. You gave yourself room to undo your coat, and Sam hung on every motion, making each exposed inch of you feel needy and overheated. “I really only know it from the giver's point of view, but, um, it's really fun for guys. I'm sure you've heard other men talk about it before. Unwinds your whole body and blows your mind, done right,” you talked as you shed your coat. “If they made it sound easy to give a good blowjob, Sam—it’s not. You have to know what you're doing, how to read your partner… know what they like… luckily for you,” you hummed, “I've never had a complaint.”

Sam nodded after nearly everything you said, unsure where to settle his hands or what to say. He looked more demure than you’d ever seen him, and it was so cute to you it was almost unbearable. You could imagine him making that exact face at you with his wet dick pushing into the inside of your cheek—all bashful but desperate, hinged on your every word, your every lick. The thought of all the pretty sounds he'd make when you blew him left you on sensory overload, and the only thing that would fix it was Sam kissing you breathless.

It struck you that Sam was really gonna let you do this for him, after years of him caring too much about you to let you take care of him. You were left with a peculiar rush; Sam trusted you.

“Blowjobs are… all the good bits of kissing and jerking off put together,” you explained. You settled back where you’d been before, hanging on Sam's shoulder and talking filthy in his ear as he quivered with want. This time your nails drew circles on his collar, and Sam surprised you by squeezing his hand around your thigh to steady himself. You could've cum on the spot. A flood of heat burned down your gut and throbbed between your legs, soaking your underwear clean through.

You’d never stopped looking at each other, but your faces were closer than ever and the eye contact felt explosive. It was dark but for the streetlight, and quiet but for the endless rain, both aspects of life you saw every day—monsters in the dark and a storm banging on the car. But with Sam there, these everyday mundanes felt… romantic. Passionate, like the movies. His eyes were this beautiful, soft fawn brown. You couldn't wait to see that slip of color admire you from between Sam's thighs.

“The girl, she’ll…” your mouth flooded with drool. “I’ll get down on my knees for you,” you corrected, boldly.

Sam sucked in a shaky breath, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you rasped. “And I'll get nice and comfy there, because I'm gonna waste as much time on you as I can…”

Your hand graduated into his hair again, since Sam forgot how to breathe each time you did it, and with it occupied you lingered on his face. Sam looked piss-drunk with lust; his head was on a swivel, lolling in whatever direction you went, his lashes fluttering low on red-patched cheeks. “I'm gonna take my time getting your pants off, y’know, tickling your legs.” A particularly dirty thought occurred to you, and it must've shown on your face because Sam's parted lips opened further. “Maybe, if you wanted, I could do this little trick I learned with my teeth… open your fly that way. You want that?”

Sam's eyes flicked down to your mouth, thinking. “I do,” he bobbed his head, “I really do.”

“Okay.” You pet Sam's chest, and coupled with the attention of your nails in his hair, a moan seeped out of him, vibrating somewhere deep under your hand. You grinned a shark’s grin. “...Then I'd look at you like that, cause’ that's what I've been dying to do for ages, see you all hard for me and nobody else. You might kill me cause’ you're so beautiful, Sam. And I'd kiss you everywhere I could… all over your thighs, your hips, the muscles in your stomach, your dick… your cock.” A whine jumped out of Sam's throat. Just the word made your throat feel open. “When you're squirming and begging for me to pull you out, I'll take off your boxer briefs, too, the blue ones I know you're wearing—” You’d seen him in them that morning, when he'd crossed his arms and his shirt had rucked up enough to flash some belly. Sam huffed an embarrassed laugh, and you kept going. “I know exactly what I'll do when your boxers are off, cause’ I've been waiting years for it. M’ gonna take your dick in my hand and just admire it, feel how big it is, imagine what it'll be like inside me—” Sam cursed aloud at that, “—inside my warm, wet mouth. I've been imagining what it looks and feels like for so long, Sammy, I think I deserve to see the real deal. Don't you think?”

You ran a finger along Sam's collarbone, and he rolled into it, chasing the slightest touch of your hand regardless if it was on his dick or not. You hadn't even drifted below his belt yet, and Sam was still arching into your touch like it would make him cum. He nodded mindlessly, sweat and rain making his hair cling to his face. “God,” he swore. “You do, ____—you d’serve it so much… so much…”

You cupped Sam's sweaty, tacky jaw, and he sighed like you’d rubbed him through his jeans. You resisted the urge to do just that, asking, “Can I have a kiss, Sammy?”

Sam peeled himself off the seat and rolled into your arms. The hand on your thigh was joined by a second, bracing his huge, sturdy palms on your legs in a way that made you grateful you weren't balancing on them, and with his face nestled in your hands and his eyes all dewy for you, Sam kissed you. You knew that that was it—every time you found your way to a kiss with him, it was the final straw. You loved him. Sam kissed you like he loved you too, pecking you soft and light like you were his dream girl, like he only wanted to treat you gentle, since so often his hands were forced to do the opposite. Quickly, your fingers were in his rain-tangled hair. Sam drew back to groan and then angled his head, pecking you in deep and loving bursts until you were giggling at him. He kissed those giggles too, smiling into his dimples. Sam never failed to make your heart go rabid when he did that, kissing you good; you had seen him kiss other girls before, and he never seemed as skilled or intuitive unless it was with you. Something tirelessly drove him to impress you.

You urged Sam's back flat to the seat again. With your leverage returned, you cupped his neck, then his shoulders, slipping your hands into his shirt, first through his collar and then up his stomach, palms seeking and appreciative. His flesh was warm and his figure was firm or yielding in all the right places. Sometimes, when you sparred and Sam was on top of you, or when you shared beds and his back was pressed to yours, you got glimpses of what Sam felt like. But now that you were free to roam where you pleased, only one signal could make its way through your nervous system: he is so beautiful. You uttered this to him in a frenzy. Sam couldn't get any redder, but you could feel his skin get warmer yourself, could press your hands flat to it and feel the life underneath, which was all the response you needed.

You licked your way into Sam's mouth. He was pliant for you as you did, whole-heartedly enjoying the filthiness of your tongue lapping and sucking at his, even if it was new to him. You laved yours from his bottom lip, across his open, wet mouth and flat against his top lip, prying approving little sounds from him. Butterflies furled and unfurled their wings in your stomach.

When you finally freed yourself, you sucked down breaths open-mouthed and fell back on your haunches.

“That's how it's gonna feel on your cock,” you proclaimed, and swiped a line of spit off his chin.

“Yeah?” Sam panted.

You wormed your fingers under the seam of your tight tee and yanked it over your head, cursing at him in a wrecked whisper. “Yeah. Then I'm gonna put you all the way in my throat, every inch of you, lickin’ and kissin’ all I can get. And when you're ready to cum, m’ gonna play with you, n’ hold you in mouth and make you sit like that.”

Sam mewled, only making your craze to get your pants off even worse. “Why?”

“‘Cause you've tortured me, baby,” you swore. You rocked back onto your tailbone and wormed off your bottoms, sucking back spit at the sight of Sam puppy-dog-eying you and palming his dick—palming his dick because of you, because of your lacy black underwear and how it looked on you. You knew you looked hot. But Sam made you feel it, like you were a Victoria's Secret cover model, like you were the hottest girl he'd ever seen, naked or otherwise. And you were—Sam had never been with anyone else. “Look at me, Sammy. You've tortured me. Made me wait to kiss you and touch you like this for so long, I almost lost my mind. So you're gonna get a taste of your own medicine, just for a bit—and when I think you can't take it anymore, just like me, then I'm gonna let you cum wherever you want. On my face, my tits, on my stomach…” you choked back a wave of unbridled, insatiable want, groaning out, “...in my mouth… inside me...”

The low, guttural noise puttering out of Sam broke. He took you by the underarms and yanked you against him, genuinely hauling you off your ass with a strength you forgot he had, little pants and miserable snarling moans pouring from him. Your mouths slotted together hard and unprettily. It knocked a girlish laugh out of you—when Sam let you breathe between sucking your face off, anyway.

“You like that idea, huh?” You teased.

Sam dropped a hand across your temple. His hand was so big that it could cover the entirety of your face, or perfectly seal over your mouth. In ways no other man had ever done for you, he stroked your hair back all tender just so he could get a look at his girl. You nuzzled into the weight without any mind for where you were going, knowing nothing but Sam’s love and Sam’s chest expanding and shrinking between you.

Those big fawn eyes wondered up at you. “You’d let me do that? Already?”

“I’d let you do anything.” You dropped what remained of your filter. This was truly dumbfounding to him, apparently, because Sam sat there stupidly for a second with his mouth open. He snapped it shut as you neared your faces, making it even easier to press a kiss to the seam of his mouth. “Any other man would take advantage of that chance. M’ not stupid. But you’re the only one I can think of who’d… who’d,” you searched for the words, admiring Sam’s nosebridge with your thumb. He had such pretty moles. “You’d be good to me,” you concluded.

Sam blinked. “...I’d want to be,” he smiled, sounding dulcet. Again, Sam brushed back your hair. “I mean… Anybody who wouldn’t be good to you i-is… is an idiot.”

“Exactly,” you smirked. Slow and sultry, you pressed your nose and lips into the plush of Sam’s cheek and dragged, then a little more, just glimpsing the skin with yours. He was ready and shuddering when your lips were at his ear. “That’s why it’s you I’m thinking about when I’m fingering myself.”

Another weak sound wept out of Sam. Christ, the noises he could make. If your imagination had even come close to the real thing, you would’ve been this dirty-mouthed with him ages ago.

Sam cursed, “Jesus, ____.”

“It’s true.” You pressed this promise with a kiss into his cheek, then again, at his jaw, letting yourself sink into each one with boundless pleasure. Sam melted helplessly against you, ears perked. “Every day. Every time I took a shower, after sharing a bed with you all weekend. I was always soaking wet because of something you’d done hours ago that I just couldn’t shake, hot out of my mind…” you swallowed down another onslaught of drool. “I pictured you having a hard day, y’know, needing something to perk you up. I’d haul your jeans down and lick you all over like an ice cream cone.”

Sam’s whole upper body was blushing so hard now that steam floated off him. “God, me too.”

Your brows raised. “Yeah?”

He nodded himself dizzy. “That same thing. You having a hard day. I’d… I’d…”

You leaned in, blinking in shock. “How did you imagine it?”

“We’d be kissing.” One of his long, too-long-to-be-wasted fingers followed a thread of your panties. “On your bed, the Impala, wherever we could find. I’d lay back and… and you’d crawl on top of me…get your legs around my head—”

Sam’s hot, moist breath tickled your face. So close, with your lips wet from Sam’s kissing already, it was all too easy to follow along with his fantasy. Sitting in his lap in the backseat. Laying him down there, your palms flat and steadying on his chest. Curling your thighs around his face until his nose pressed up into you, then his mouth, slipping open, and his hot, silky tongue taking long drinks of you. The sensory ghost of it alone could’ve made you cum.

You blurted: “You’d eat me out?”

One man-paw of his smoothed down the planes of your back, palming big handfuls of your skin. Now, it was his turn to smile wolfishly. Sam confessed: “I’ve always wanted to.”

The admission temporarily launched you into orbit, and for a long time you hung there, clinging to him by the shirt, dully aware of the rainy smell of him and how hard your cunt was pulsing. Sam. Your Sam, sitting with these thoughts in his head. At the same time that you were pushing your knees together when he sat beside you at the dinner table, Sam was fantasizing about getting between them. The eroticism of it already had you close to edge. Anytime you’d ever been with him, at some point, Sam had to have thought about how his fingers would feel digging into your ass-flesh while he fucked you with his tongue, while you squealed his name, the flat of your toes curled against his shoulders. Uncensored. He could’ve revealed any fantasy on top of that, but he chose this one. The one that had him pleasuring you and fucking loving it. Sam didn’t just want you—he wanted the angle that could get him the most of you, the most exposed and honest position. You fucking loved him.

You were tonguing into his mouth before Sam could finish, both hands in possessive fists around his shirt. Sam started laughing, the asshole, but you persisted, closing him in with passionate dips of your head and kissing him senseless. Your hands feasted on him, clawing into his hair and down the back of his shirt and around again. Nothing was enough. You were convinced you wouldn’t be satisfied until you were Sam, or melded into him somehow, like chocolate chips in a warm pot.

“Thought about… tasting you n’ makin’ you feel good,” Sam hissed. “So good that you’d have’ta put your fist in your mouth to stop yourself from screaming. You’d put your hands in my hair a-and… and… shit, you’d taste so good. I want to taste you so bad, ____. Want you to—” he leached you into a long, surging kiss, purring deep in his throat, “sit on my face.”

You wrestled down a choked whine, which Sam swallowed. Every movement of his mouth went straight to your pussy, echoing there. Sam must’ve known this, because he kissed you exactly as he would between your thighs, all tongue and sucking lips, unbearably hot in comparison to your untouched cunt. You could almost feel the blazing front of his mouth bearing down on you there, his breath fanning over you and his tongue—god, his fucking tongue—flexing into your clit. You broke away.

Sam’s hands hesitated at the top of your back, then all at once took two whole handfuls of your ass, and pushed up with his hips to open your thighs for him. You let slip a helpless moan. His hands were warm and calloused and everywhere, except for the precise place you needed him most. But above all else, Sam was a selfless, loving man, so immediately he was moving to drag down your panties.

“Please,” he choked. “Please, ____, please, I can—I can do it for you—lemme do it for you, baby. Let me take care a’ you.”

“Sam.”

You pressed both palms flat to Sam’s chest in an order. Sam immediately stopped, though he did not look pleased about it. You took a breath to realize the pussy-eating fiend you were soon to have all to yourself, then stepped back to your initial focus. “You’ll have to wait. Want you first, pretty boy. Have you ever even done that before?”

Sam shook his head, sending his bangs fluttering around his face. He pouted. His hands coasted along your arms, dragging you down and into him still.

Bleeding with earnestness, he husked, “No. But I’ll learn for you. I’ll practice on you over and over again, til’ I’m better than anybody you’ve ever had that way. S’ all I want.”

You bit your lip and, god, was it impossible to say no to him.

“I'm all yours, Sammy. Whatever you need, you know I'll give it to you. But we’re gonna do this first, okay?”

You wanted his first time to be good, better than good, all because of you. You wanted to be his second time. His third time too, and every time after that. And if that didn't work out, then you hoped that every time he got a blowjob in the future, it was a good one. Even if it’d be downright pitiful in comparison to the way you were gonna suck his brains out now.

You reached between you and gave Sam's strained cock a generous squeeze.

Sam lost it. “Please, you, please please—” he all but sobbed. His hips rolled up and his knees snapped apart, making room for you, inviting you in, hands making marks on your arm in his scramble for touch. “Please. I-I need it, I need—I need you, god, I want to feel—”

You hung back, absorbing the result of your work. You’d barely touched him and Sam was already out of his mind. He'd had orgasms before—you’d heard him reaching them through the wall in the shower, and his desperate choking breaths were so hot that you had touched yourself right outside the door—but as good as they'd sounded, you were determined to blow them out of the race.

Sam started for his fly, which was your cue to step in. You waved his hands away, guiding them to his stomach, where they fisted in his shirt and drew it up over his sculpted naval. You shushed and soothed, “Sam, Sammy—s’okay, you're okay. I'll take care of you, alright? I'll start right now,” you peppered kisses on his face, bent beside him on your knees. “We gotta get the seat back. Help me?”

You pushed the Impala’s bench back as far as it could go, and you made sure to lay the backrest down a few more inches, too, so Sam could relax and you had a good angle on his face. He was equally considerate and folded up a blanket for you to sit on in the footwell. As soon as Sam sat up, you evaporated into his lap. You expected him to go shy on you again, but this time Sam helped you settle there, clenching his teeth and dragging his eyes up your figure. You stood still for the examination, and the longer it went on the warmer your flaming skin got. Both of Sam’s unreasonably big hands landed on your waist at the same time, and for a moment your roles reversed, Sam’s eyes smoky and heavy-lidded as he devoured the sight of you. You felt yourself throb pathetically in your panties. You were probably the first girl Sam had ever seen intimately; and, in true Sam fashion, he consumed the new sight, cataloging and learning things. A tiny whine slipped out of you when his fingers dug into your thighs, then again when Sam’s thumb brushed under the band of your bra.

“I'm all yours,” you reminded with a smile you hoped was confident. If it was, it was ruined by you shyly and awkwardly reaching for the clasp of your bra. “Whatever you want, Sam, I can do.”

He gazed up at you through his bangs, expression bleeding with love and boyish frankness. “What do you want?”

“To make you happy,” you answered, without question. “To make this night good for you, even if it's the only night we'll have.”

Sam shook his head, absent-minded. A slow, clever, panty-dropping smile developed on his face, something that was clearly common in the men of his family.

“You said that most guys you're with, like this…” he thought aloud. Sam brought you close to him, and when your shadow fell across him and you were nose to nose, he slid two warm fingers up your back and click—he was pulling your brassiere off your shoulders. “You said that most of them can't find a way around a bra, nevermind you,” he observed. “We're going to need more nights if I'm going to prove to you that I'm different.”

“Sam,” you whispered, “you were always different from them.”

You pushed him back against the seat, aligning his spine with it, and as soon as Sam hung his arms over his head you were kissing him wet and deep, both of your hands sliding and groping along the firm muscle of his raised biceps. Now only a flimsy tee stood between them, and you were as rude with it as you were with anything else keeping you from Sam. The long, muscular frame you’d been fantasizing about for years was exposed to you now, and you wasted no time getting acquainted with it. Only recently had Sam started to linger in wet t-shirts in front of you or guide your hands under his shirt as you cuddled—for longer, you’d had no clue what he looked like under his clothes. Dean got all the credit for being John's perfect hunter, but Sam had the perfect hunter's body, barrel-chested huge and wood-shattering strong.

You sunk onto your hands and knees, palming him, groping him, caressing him, outlining the lines of his muscles and his ribs with your fingers. Nobody could resist the temptation to kiss him all over, and in all fairness, you had promised. You dragged your mouth down Sam's chest, kissing the center seam of his body to his happy trail. You almost lost yourself pleasuring him this way; at the sound of Sam's deep breathing, you endured, hovering over your prize instead. You knew you must've looked beyond turned on: your dark eyes were wild, dilated and glittering with want, your panties were soaked through and your lip was almost bleeding you were biting it so hard.

“Fuck,” you cursed, settled back on Sam's thighs, “I've wanted to blow you stupid for years, Sam… it didn't matter what you looked like underneath here or not… but fuck, I feel like a schoolgirl, drooling over all these muscles. You used to be so lanky.”

“Hard to be healthy on the road,” Sam flushed. “We're fighting monsters every day, it’d be stupid to die to a heart condition…or… something.”

“Yeah,” you groaned before you could contain yourself, “but you're sure not making this crush I have on you any easier.”

Sam whispered, sounding coy as he plucked the waistband of your panties. There was that dimply smile again. “You got a crush on me, pretty girl?”

The next words poured out of you as sensually and devoutly as you felt them: “Yeah,” slow, you dismounted his thighs, folded your legs in between Sam's, and finally, finally, sunk on your shins into the footwell. “You wanna see what I do for the men I crush on, baby?”

“So bad. So damn bad,” Sam begged, and it was surreal to finally see what he looked like from this angle, since you’d been dreaming of it for so long. His head lolled back and all you could see of him was the sexy column of his throat and all the soft red lines you’d put in his skin there, just bright enough to see. His chin lowered so Sam could look at you, and sweet lord—there were those fawn brown eyes, drowning in the darkness and the black of his lashes. They boiled over with devotion and willingness and thirst, teased for far too long now. You almost felt bad enough to cut him some slack. But now you were here, with Sam's cock just inches from where it should be, and you couldn't just start going easy on him.

You did exactly what you said you would, so Sam knew what was coming. As promised, you hunkered down on the blanket Sam had folded, letting your knees settle comfortably on the floor. Then you started in on him. You played your nails across his legs, stroking the sides of his thighs, feeling how his pants clung to his skin. On his lap, it was impossible not to fantasize about Sam sitting you on one of his legs and inviting you to rut across his solid, powerful jean-clad thigh. It took a lot to make you feel tiny—but Sam did just that. Crouched down at his feet like this, Sam only seemed bigger and his body better built than usual. You pressed your cheek against his inner thigh and just basked in him.

Sam writhed having you so close to the source of his suffering. “Please,” he sighed below his breath.

“Please what?” You grinned, wolfish.

You turned inwards and kissed the inner seam of Sam's jeans, right on the denim path to his aching cock. Just inches from your face, angled down Sam's pantleg, was a heavy, massive tent more than the width of both your hands put together. Fuck, it'd been even longer since your last good blowjob than you’d thought it'd been. Just seeing the outline made your cunt pulse. Pressing your kiss-swollen lips to the denim above the head bolted molten hot desire straight to your core, and for Sam it was no less extreme, his hands curling into fists on his chest.

His eyes squeezed shut, and the little hoarse squeak that left him made you forget your gag reflex entirely. Sam moaned, “Please please please put me in your mouth—____, p-please.”

“I think you're a little ahead of me, Sammy…”

Your voice dripped with liquid sex. You steadied your hands on Sam's knees and bent forward again, nuzzling his cock with your nose and cheeks, glittering obsidian eyes devouring Sam's softest reactions. He was sensitive—even more sensitive than you’d been hoping for. Just the tiniest lick through scratchy fabric had his toes curling. Again, your nails scraped down his thighs. This time you leaned forward as the gesture drew back, bringing you up to Sam's happy trail. And man, happy it was–it was the centerpiece for miles of twitching, gleaming, sweaty muscle, soft-blended abs, hard-cut v-lines and all.

“Let's start by getting these tight, constricting pants off your first.” you smirked. “How does that sound? You must be uncomfortable, Sammy.”

He was, to the point that just the thought of getting them off had his hips arching toward you on the seat. Pitifully, Sam pleaded, “____. C'mon. Anything.”

“S’okay…” you whispered. You kissed the button of his jeans. “I'll get it off and you'll feel so good, darlin…”

Sam watched you from over his heaving chest, so hard that he was delirious, quavering miserably when your touch disappeared. His soft desperate gasps reminded you of the noises he made when he had dirty dreams sleeping next to you. The few times it'd happened, you just endured it until you drifted off to fatally horny sleep. But once it'd been your name he was sighing like that. It took every ounce of strength you had not to roll over and jerk him off right there. The scene was so vivid it was painful, and you could easily imagine yourself cuddling up to his back and stroking him sweet and slow half-out of his pajama pants, your cheek to his shoulder. Or even better, crawling under your shared sheets and deepthroating him awake. You wondered if Sam had ever heard the dreams you had of him. Or how many times you’d fucked yourself in the shower, imagining him reaming you into the tile like an animal. You had never dreamt of another man that way, or loved a different one so terribly that it made you reckless.

Sam watched you with wide, long-lashed eyes. Nobody else could look so innocent watching somebody get ready to suck their dick. Every time you glanced past his chest, you expected the perverted revelry you got from your other partners to reveal itself on his face. But, god. Sam. He basked in you, in your touch, arching up to meet your hands and worshipping your with his gaze. Love downpoured from every molecule of him. All his reserve had shredded away, taking any reason he had to hide right along with it. I love you I love you I love you, his body wept.

The second you got the fabric corner of his jean-opening in your teeth, Sam’s lips parted, and you remembered all the times you’d tie cherry stems in your mouth to impress him—how many popsicles you’d enjoyed all too slowly and vocally while Sam was watching. It took just one pull of your chin and his fly was off the button. One more and his zipper was in your teeth. You dragged down your head, sultry eyes never leaving his even when you got his fly open, and soaked up the look on Sam's face as he realized the kind of professional he was dealing with.

“...Wow,” Sam gaped. I've hit the jackpot, his wide eyes said.

“Up,” you instructed, and let your grin say the rest. Excitement was burning between your legs now. You tugged on his belt loops until Sam raised his hips, giving you the room to pile them around his ankles.

When you brought your eyes back up, your breath caught. Sam was hard enough to crack steel. You couldn't believe your own luck here. The boy you’d been head over heels for since before you could speak, the man you’d devoted half your life to, and he was so hot for you that he could hardly breathe.

“You don't know how long I've been fantasizing about this.” Your voice was almost too hoarse to hear over the rain, a prayer's voice. You drew yourself between Sam's thighs, and shaking from head to toe with hunger, you spread both palms over his hips and dragged your mouth up Sam's length in his boxers.

Sam had already given himself up to the pleasure. His nails seared into the upholstery, and he moaned, rocketing up, off his back, rocking into you already. The neediness of it burst another tank of heat and love and lust inside you—your Sam, above you, about to be yours, begging so pretty for you… Fuck, heaven would be boring in comparison.

“____, please, baby, please I need it,” he almost sobbed, “I'll do anything anything ____ I ju-just, I just want you. I want your mouth on me I wanna—god, please ____, how good you feel, I want it, please—”

“Anything you want, Sammy, you can have anything,” you soothed, muffled and slurred by your dragging kisses.

“M’ all yours, all yours, all this cock just for you, g-god yeah—your mouth ____ please I need your mouth—”

There was so much drool built up under your tongue that you had to swallow to speak—but you decided against it, saving it for your prize instead. You couldn't wait a second more. You were hooking your fingers in Sam's briefs before you could second-guess, before you could even think to judge if you should unravel Sam a little more—but he was there, bucking for you already, so there was no use waiting. He couldn't even lift his hips before you’d yanked his boxers out of the way. You felt him in your hand and all of it—the length of his cock, the weight of it, the fact that it was Sam, had you sinking into his lap like a priest into a sermon, flesh into the earth, and instantly you threw yourself into the task like you’d never done for any other man. This was for Sam.

You took in just a bit of him at first, enough to introduce him to the hot, velvety heat of your mouth and wet him with a single good suck. Sam's sob cut off with his breath. He was careful to treat you right, even like this. One of his hands had startled into your hair, the pleasure was so much for him. It never did anything more than jolt—he wasn't the type to just shove you on him, anyway. Your smile felt obscene with your lips slick and swollen around him; your tongue gave the lightest lap at the special spot under his tip, and Sam strangled down a filthy, whining mewl. His head was plump and comfortable on your jaw, so you gave it your first dose of attention, loosening your seal around it so you could share your drool with the rest of him. You hollowed your cheeks and brought him a little further into your mouth, shattering what remained of Sam's strength. He sunk back against the seat, exhausted, and watched you bracingly from above, sucking down breaths. Already, there was enough spit on him to make Sam's cock gleam like your lips. It clung to your chin and the tip of your nose in shining patches. Sam ran a hand through his hair and lazily studied you as you sucked him off, falling further in love with you by the second.

“That's it,” Sam cooed. He sounded broken and thready, but he insisted on curling your hair around his fingers, dizzy. “So good, ____—suck it, just like that, please, baby, j-just… ohh, fuckkk…”

Suck it, he'd said. You did as told. The command vibrated through your whole overshot body, and your throbbing, weeping cunt only felt emptier hearing the order. Sam filled up your mouth so well that your cheeks were puffy. He was the perfect size for you—a damn perfect masterpiece. His girth sat thick in your hands, veiny in ways that you wanted to feel with your pussy. Oral had always been enough before, but already you wanted Sam more than air, and more than that, wanted to blow him so good that he'd reward you for it. You tested out a few lower bobs, his cock slick and sticky between your fingers now, and every time you suckled on him Sam squeezed his eyes shut all pretty. The rain was dying out, so the liquid noise your lips made on him filled every crevice of the Impala louder than before. The pop of you slipping off his cock almost echoed.

“Tell me what you want,” you coached, your voice just as broken and hushed as Sam's. You couldn't even part from him that long, and dipped again to whorl your tongue around Sam's heavy tip. “Whatever you need, Sam,” you punctuated the reminder with a long, flat drag of your tongue from his base to the special spot under his tip, and beamed; Sam yelped. “I love it… I love,” you swallowed, “I love doing this for you.”

Sam worked his fingers into your untamed hair, and you did fucking love it. On the floor your knees were aching, but it and everything else was numb to the rolling glide of cock slotting into your mouth, of Sam reveling in your lips and tongue on him, watching you give it all just because he asked.

Sam’s knuckles caressed your cheekbone. “Wrap your lips around the head. Tight.”

You listened. He was more than comfortable on your jaw now, so your lips molded nicely to him, sealing and hollowing so he was even more snug in his new favorite place.

“Good girl,” Sam groaned, probably on instinct, but you stroked him faster for the praise, so he repeated it until his mind was muddy. “Lick the part unde—oh very, very good girl… I wish you could see yourself… I-I want…” he hissed in delight, “you look so pretty, ____… so pretty with my cock in your mouth, god…”

Holy shit. You had never really paid attention to that kind of talk before during sex, busied with the task at hand, but there was something euphoric about the way he said it to you now, your shy Sam, your Sam, his voice raspy, his pink mouth panting and open, his hands all over you, talking to you like he’d always wanted to say that. Your cunt ached.

With a deadly rumble spilling up from your chest, you slipped off his head and laved your gluttonous mouth down Sam’s soaking shaft, kissing, tonguing and sucking at whatever flesh you could find.

“Keep talking like that,” you begged into his base, breathless.

Sam listened. He cupped the sweat-slick nape of your neck, his hand easily broad enough to cover your back blade to blade, and in a messy, groping haze, dragged it up against your cheek. “Never seen you like this,” he purred, “eyes… all dark and… hot… lookin’ up at me… you’re so tiny between my legs like that.”

You couldn’t have restrained yourself if you tried. A weak whine seeped out of you. Sam’s thumb pushed into your cheek and you turned, lapping at it, then covering his hand with one of your own and searing kisses all over his palm. It was heavy and perfect for smudging your nose into. You sunk two open-mouthed kisses into Sam’s wrist where his bracelet was, then up his forearm, knowing only his body and how it could connect to your mouth. His pulse thudded furiously. Just as fast as you’d nuzzled up to him, you returned to Sam’s thick thumb, sucking it deep and right as he watched in rapture. The filthy delight written all over those mesmerized eyes had you praying to him.

“Wanna do this all the time,” Sam swallowed. He was all stream-of-consciousness now, too frenzied to filter himself. “Watch you suck me off… watch those perfect lips disappear around me, _____… y-you… oh, god, you are a natural, baby…”

His other hand, again, flushed your hair away from her forehead. All the love put into your face at once rooted you to the spot. It was miraculous, how special Sam could make you feel with just a few light touches. Bleeding with tenderness, he caressed your shoulders, your cheeks, your jaw, your hair, feasting on you as you had him.

Sam pushed the meat of his thumb into your swollen lip. “Open for me. Yeah… oh, yeah, let me watch you put it in…”

Your lips parted, mostly out of shock—when had Sam started thinking like this? A deeper part of your mind registered it all as innocent teasing, since Sam could never hurt or demean you; he was the basest definition of good to you. Regardless, you were more than willing to obey, and opened wide, tongue splayed for the heavy head of Sam’s dick. The extra kick of his pre-come had your toes curling every single time. But combined with Sam’s ruddy-cheeked, enraptured staring, just one touch to your clit would bring you over the edge. You forced your knees apart on the floor and held off. Just in case Sam intended to keep his promise.

The easiest way to put Sam’s dick into words was by comparing it to a warm, solid lollipop that took up your whole mouth, like the twisty kind from the carnival that eclipsed your whole face, chin to forehead. You’d been mourning Sam’s scrawniness after his four years away at college, but now you were nothing but grateful for the extra mass. Sam was really, really big. Bigger than anyone else you’d been with. He could’ve been any size and you would’ve been just as rabid for him, but there was something specifically hot about sucking him down as far as you could and failing to hit the bottom. It took effort to get there. You lazily pumped what you had left of his shaft, and in slow, deliberate surges of your spit-wet mouth, you earned an inch, then another.

Sam moaned so gutturally you felt it rumble under your palms. It was so Sam, in that it was like any sound you’d ever heard him make, sighing at a stupid joke, snarling during a fight, but this time it was him losing it because you were giving him a blowjob. Because you’d snuck away like idiot teenagers and you were blowing him good and filthy in Baby’s front seat.

“I-I thought about you all day,” he licked his lips, “all week, like this… it’s, you are so much better than I thought… m’ gonna make you cum so good for me.”

You wished that he could feel the way your cunt had fluttered at that. All you could do in answer was hum in approval, since you were so drunk off him, off the girth pressing against the start of your throat, that you couldn't even lift your head to speak. You did the opposite, pushing down and surging Sam's length in deeper and further than you’d gone before. The half-hour you’d poured into warming up for this was instantly worth it. You were by no means an amateur. Blowjobs, as a sexual activity, were with ease your favorite—but deepthroating was where your real talent lay. Wielding your skill, you relaxed your sore jaw and pressed forward.

The initial burn waited for you there, but Sam’s reaction was priceless.

Every muscle in his body snapped in, a taut coil broken in one motion. A strangled gasp broke from his throat. Sam's entire torso bore forward and his hips surged up to your face in a voiceless gasp, which you’d been expecting. You pinned them back down and dug for it, giving him no room to breathe, mashing your nose into his abs and hanging there, lingering, suckling, gagging, so all Sam could feel was the soft, hot, velvet pulse of your throat around his spent cock.

“I’m. I-I—”

You sucked harder, bringing a wave of spit with you, and closed a hand around Sam’s closest fist. Drool seeped over your knuckles. He spasmed. His voice tore, cutting off.

It was a little hard, but with practice—and you could practice on Sam for days, if that’s what it took—the ache would fade. All the pleasure was in the act itself, in your own slobbering sounds, the drool, and above all else the punch-to-the-teeth thrill it gave. Every inch of Sam’s pretty virgin dick was stuffing your throat. You could barely hollow your cheeks around him, Sam was so thick. His cock pulsed, once, then twice, then over and over. No other person in the world could claim him like you could, and no other person would ever have him like you had.

Sam came, and hard.

His thighs snapped closed around your ribs. He hung in place bent up over you, twitching mid-sob. Both of his hands snapped around your head, then his arms in full, scrabbling across your back, crazed, heaving, coating you entirely in the woody smell of him.

You flattened your palms to his thighs and drew upward. When it was just half his shaft in your mouth, so coated in saliva that you were connected to it in cloying strings, you persisted. The first spurt of him on your tongue detonated a ruthless orgasm deep within you on the spot. You latched onto him as it crested through you, digging your nails into Sam’s rolling hips, back and toes curled, pressing closer and swallowing the mouth-watering load you’d been dying to taste for years now. It came with its own gratified explosion of ecstasy. Your pussy sobbed, clenching without end, wracking your whole body with delicious waves of mind-whiting pleasure. The taste of him conquered you—fuck, he tasted perfect, salty and organic and human and Sam. It was a sugar rush of earthy sweetness that burned straight to your overwrought core.

You could’ve unburied yourself and let Sam finish anywhere, since he was already so mindless underneath your spell that anything would’ve pleased him. But there was something potent and intimate in being able to taste him. His body—every divine inch of it was yours, and a piece of him was filling an empty place in you.

You should’ve guessed by the size of him alone, but christ, Sam came whole glassfuls. His cum bubbled up into your mouth and spilled out of the corners of your lips, and you relished in it, drinking him down, whorling your tongue around his fleshy head, soaking up every second of your hard work’s result. The taste of him overwhelmed and surrounded you. The act did. It was in every facet a religious experience, angels singing, clouds parting, the sun glowing over them—all of it. Sam went down your throat piping hot, and you swore you could feel his cum gliding all the way to your stomach.

You slipped off him with a gasp. Hoarse, weak sighs huffed from your blazing lungs.

Slowly, as your orgasm ebbed further from your mind, your surroundings filtered back in. Peeling yourself away from him effectively rebooted all the systems in your body again. You could hear the rain bearing down on the Impala’s windshield overhead. Both of your palms were sticky and cloying with saliva. The whole lower half of your face, your abused lips, your aching jaw, your glistening cheeks, were slathered with slick. Your throat felt raw but recently balmed, like you’d swallowed a spoonful of honey to heal a soreness. Each of your knees had been stuck in place for so long that they were both numb, so the scratchy blanket beneath them seemed to ripple with pins and needles.

And Sam. Sam’s weight was braced in his hands, pressed flat to the dash, putting your face between the long bridge-arch of his shoulders. He’d collapsed around you in the footwell, shuddering and gasping for breath, and through the sea of endorphins and hormones, he managed to press his tacky forehead to yours.

You panted together; you inhaled and so did he, atoms apart, nearly mouth to mouth. Sam’s hot breath fanned across your face, cooling the saliva there.

It was something out of some old Italian sculpture, a Pietà, two nude figures entwined, expressing their love in form alone. You were collapsed on your knees, a worshipper gazing up at your saint. Sam was bent over you almost uncomfortably, every fiber of his body yearning for closeness, but close wasn’t close enough to you, his face smushed into yours and his jaw slack.

He looked nothing short of lovesick.

Hands shaking, you cupped Sam’s face. You pressed your thumbs into his warm, flushed cheekbones, then his dimples when he smiled dizzily at you, his girl.

You swallowed. “Did you like that?” You closed her eyes, hoping aloud, “...Did I… did I do a good job for you, Sammy?”

Sam surprised you. The haziness in his eyes cleared more and more with each inhale, until eventually, he was blinking down at you without guile. He burst out laughing.

“...There’s no way it was that bad,” you deadpanned. It didn’t hold for long, with him giggling over you like that. You fought against a mean, vibrant smile and its matching flush. “Alright, Sam, shut up! Quit laughing, you ass! What the hell did I—”

With the seat pushed back as far as it was, Sam had the room to get his hands under your arms again and drag you up onto his lap in one sturdy motion. Your shoulders quaked with laughter the whole time. Suddenly, his face and chest and throat were flush with yours. It was enough to drive a person crazy. Like before, Sam slotted your mouths together. The difference this time was that his cum was all over your face—but Sam could care less. You went from kissing him to gaping, since Sam dotted each filthy lick of your tongues with a heavy lap across your cheek or your chin. Tasting himself. On you. Fucking hell.

“Stop gawking n’ kiss me,” Sam insisted. He pawed at your back for emphasis, then your shoulders from below, adjusting your weight on his thighs since in your shock you’d dropped on him completely.

(And that was definitely a hard-on scooping against your inner thigh. Fucking fuck. Jesus Christ. Holy shit, Sam.)

“You were better n’ good,” he shivered. Filthily and innocently all at once, he grinned, “...I can’t believe… that was how my first time went. I can’t believe you… You, you just…”

He struggled for words. Eventually, Sam purred: “You are a natural.”

I love you, you almost blurted. You deliberately filled your lungs to calm yourself down. Your arms were around Sam’s neck and he was gazing up at you, brimming with satisfaction and gratitude and boundless, unhidden love. Dangerous territory. His taste had sunk thick and sweet on your tongue, so you both moan when you share it with him in a surging kiss.

“Anytime,” you rasped, maybe sounding a bit desperate. You were. Sam was everything you wanted in a thousand different ways, so you refused to let the moment go. In the black darkness, you laid kisses into him until your lips tingled. “I fucking—ugh. That was perfect. You were perfect. If… if you ever want me like that again—”

“I do,” was Sam’s immediate, unflinching answer. “But… I have a condition.”

He swallowed. At first, you figured he was nervous, and knowing it was his first time you doubted he wasn’t. But then Sam’s eyes flashed. Both of his enormous hands smoothed down your waist, kneading the flesh, squeezing you around the sides so his thumbs were in your belly, then his fingers were sliding flat to your hip and down. They plucked under the waistband of your underwear—the last and only layer between you.

“Every time you go down on me,” his hungry, sultry gaze devoured yours, “I get to practice on you, too.”

part two.

#sam winchester #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x you #uncouthspn #supernatural #spn #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester imagine

826 notes · View notes

somnambulants · 3 years ago

Note

hi!! i was just wondering if i could request more yelena where yelena introduces her gf to natasha and her family and she’s uncharacteristically nervous so nat finds it amusing? thank you :)

a bit of minor surgery

summary: Yelena tries to keep you to herself but her family has other ideas word count: 1.7K notes: so this is a little different to what you asked for but i hope you still like it! for the sake of this, nat, yelena, alexei and melina are just one happy family

“But if we –"

Natasha holds up a hand and Yelena stops talking. “Do you hear that?”

It’s faint but there’s the sound of someone moving around on her apartment floor. Being the only person who lives on this floor and one of the few in this building is enough for this to raise the hairs on the back of her neck.

Survival for them has always meant constant vigilance.

Both of their heads swivel towards the front door as the footsteps become louder, very clearly approaching her apartment.

Yelena doesn’t have to look to know Natasha is mirroring her, pulling out her gun and scanning every entry-way for possible intruders.

On edge, Yelena presses herself against the door, readying herself until she listens properly and realises the approaching footsteps sound familiar.

Somehow, she feels herself relax and become even more tense at the same time.

“Stop,” she says as Natasha moves towards the door as well, holding an arm out to stop her. “It’s okay. I know who it is.”

At her words Natasha relaxes, putting her gun away but she watches her face carefully as she does so.

The panic Yelena can feel building inside her must not be as well hidden as she thought because a slow grin spreads across her face as the sound of a gentle knock echoes through Yelena’s apartment.

“Is it..?”

“Yes,” Yelena replies curtly. “And no. You can’t meet them.”

Natasha gives her a wicked look, clicking her teeth together teasingly. “What? Scared I’ll…eat them?”

She snickers as Yelena reaches out and shoves her hard enough to knock the air out of her while also giving her a firm and clear: im going to kill you if you don't listen to me look as she goes to open the door.

Not that it's ever stopped Natasha before.

“Just stay there,” Yelena hisses and then wrenches the door open, finding you behind it with your hand still mid-air, prepared to knock a second time.

“Y/N!”

“Hi,” you say, looking a little startled but smiling at her none the less as you drop your hand.

Beside her and thankfully, just out of your view, Natasha, to her credit, is silent but Yelena can feel her gaze glued to her face and can especially feel the amusement radiating off her in waves.

She grits her teeth, forcing a smile. Your own fades a little as you take her in. “Is this a bad time?”

“No,” Yelena says quickly. Still out of sight, Natasha lets out a huff of laughter just quiet enough that she hopes she’s the only one that hears her.

“Not at all,” she adds, and since the door covers most of her body, it’s safe for her to reach out and pinch Natasha on the arm. Which is what she does. Hard. “Just --give me a second?”

Clearly still puzzled, you nod and Yelena closes the door, giving you a smile that she has a feeling looks more like a grimace.

Next she grabs Natasha by the arm and starts walking her forcibly towards the window. “Out.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow as she pulls them to an abrupt stop, looking at her then looking out the window. “You seriously want me to scale ten stories because you’re an idiot?”

As an answer, Yelena unlocks the latch and lets the window sweep open, giving her a pointed look that says: Yes. Obviously.

Natasha rolls her eyes but to Yelena’s relief, she slides out the window.

“неудачник,” is all she says in parting before she disappears, dropping down the stairwell and vanishing from sight completely.

The word lingers in the air after her: Loser.

Yelena scowls after her for a second before she rushes back to the door and opens it, letting out a sigh of relief when she sees you’re still there, standing in the same spot.

“Sorry,” she apologises, swinging the door open. “There was just a uh, complication....a spider. I caught it and put it outside. I know you hate them.”

As she speaks, you slowly raise one eyebrow at her. The other quickly follows and it's then that she notices the narrowed look in your eyes.

When you start speaking, your voice is low and scarily calm. “So it has nothing to do with the woman I just made eye contact with as she was climbing down your fire escape?”

Something Yelena is proud to say is that in her life there have been very few times she’s been at a loss for words.

This however is one of them.

She stares at you, blankly, knowing her panic must be showing on her face by the way your expression progressively becomes darker and darker as seconds pass and she fumbles frantically for something to say.

“I, uh, she is, she, uh –”

“—Natasha Romanoff. Nice to meet you.”

To her credit, Natasha has always been the stealthier of the two of them. Ignoring that fact, Yelena chooses to believe that her being distracted by you is why she doesn’t hear her coming back up the stairwell.

She also chooses to believe that she didn’t visibly jump at the sound of her voice and that the cough Natasha lets out is genuine and not covering up a laugh that says she’s going to mock her mercilessly for this entire thing later.

Of course, Yelena can’t fool herself but she tries anyway.

You look even more unimpressed as Natasha comes to a stop beside her and it clicks in Yelena’s head that you think her and Natasha – her and Natasha. She can’t even finish the thought.

As funny as it is, she doesn’t let herself laugh, knowing instinctively that it’s not a good idea. The flinty look in your eyes just confirms how much of a not good idea that is.

Just because you weren’t raised like her doesn’t mean that you couldn’t pack a punch; something she learned early on in your relationship when she’d accidentally snuck up on you once. She’d had a black eye for weeks after that.

“Natasha is my --” she isn’t sure how to say: ‘this is the woman I was trained to kill people with while we grew up being tortured and experimented on, remember I told you?’ In a way that won’t make you go running for the hills.

As she trails off, Natasha, sensing her panic, jumps in. Yelena knows that internally, she must be laughing hysterically though to her merit, she keeps it to herself. “I’m her… sister. Of sorts.”

You know about her past – all of what she was willing to repeat of it anyway – so comprehension quickly dawns on your face.

“Then why…?”

She watches as Natasha’s mouth twitches, sounding amused as she directly addresses you: “Well... my sister is an idiot. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

Yelena tenses as you give her a once over, raking your eyes over her consideringly, before you turn back to Natasha. “I may have noticed that. Yes.”

"Hey," Yelena protests, weakly. "That's not fair."

You give her a pointed look and she falls silent. Resigned to her fate, she lets out a sigh.

She can tell from the matching scheming looks brewing in both your own and Natasha’s eyes that this is only going to be the start of her own personal torment.

The one thing she really, really hates about her family is that they have this habit of showing up unannounced – you’d think that the whole being assassins and consequently, a little trigger happy as a result would make someone call ahead but no.

Never.

For this reason, it comes as no surprise when there’s the familiar three tap repetitive secret knock knock knock they had all come up with years ago on her front door early the following morning.

Silently, Yelena prays you don’t hear it and stay asleep as she drags herself out of bed and prepares herself for what she’s about to deal with.

Truthfully, she’s a little surprised that they’d had enough tact to wait until morning. She’d half expected them to be knocking her door down the second Natasha relayed last nights events to them.

Yanking the door open, she comes face-to-face with Alexei and Melina. Taking them both in and cataloguing mentally that they look alive and uninjured, she lets herself glare at both of them.

“Is something wrong?”

They both frown. “No?”

“Okay I’m closing the door then.”

She starts to swing it shut but it’s quickly caught as Alexei shoves a foot in between it and the doorframe, giving her a reproachful look.

“Is your –”

“Yes,” Yelena interrupts, scowling harder than before, if that was even possible. “Now, leave.”

The look on Alexei’s face shifts, now suddenly a little too much on the wrong side of sneaky. “Can we—”

“No.”

“But–"

“I don’t care. You can’t meet them,” she barks, probably too loudly, as she shoves him back out into the hallway. If she has to throw them bodily out of here, she will. It just would likely attract your attention, which is the opposite of what she wants. “They’re asleep.”

“We can wake them,” he suggests, unhelpfully.

Yelena glares at him harder. “No.”

It’s faint but all of a sudden, she can hear the sound of a door squeaking as it opens. Her bedroom door to be more exact. Your voice calling out to her quickly follows.

“Okay,” she says. “I’m closing the door now.”

“Hey, no wait –” Alexei starts to protest. Yelena closes the door firmly in their faces and is working on dead-bolting it just as you appear in her line of sight.

You blink at her blearily, wearing just one of her T-shirts and nothing else. Thank god she hadn’t let them in. “Who was that?”

“Neighbours,” Yelena lies. “Looking for their …cat.”

Still half asleep, you don’t think to question her and she sags against the door in relief as you venture into the kitchen in search of coffee.

To her relief, there are no subsequent persistent knocks or calls through the door and after a second, she can hear the quiet sound of footsteps and Alexei’s grumbling as they retreat.

Natasha is one thing – their parents or pseudo-parents or whatever they are – are another thing entirely. She’d save that one for another day.

Or never, preferably.

#yelena belova x reader

1K notes · View notes

captains-simp · 4 years ago

Note

hey! so i love wanda and i was wondering if you could write one kind of enemies to lovers or something like that where reader and wanda don't get along well, jealous scene or maybe a very suggestive fight. very angst but happy fluffy ending please

Enemies to lovers owns my whole gay heart and I CANNOT write it without there being sexual tension so xksksjsks smut alert

@g-cordelia hope it's okay to combine your request with this too so there's a healthy dose of angst and fluff with it

"Please don't go."

"Don't you fucking lie to me."

Warnings: choking, fingering, spanking, strap on sex, mentions of oral and hints at mild injury

6k words

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Your actions jeopardised the whole mission." Steve said sternly before raising his voice when he saw he received no reaction from you or the redhead. "Whatever is going on between you has to stop!"

"You say that like it's ever been any different." Natasha added.

The pair that usually felt like the protective big brother and sister of the team where acing the role of disappointed parents. Admittedly that did make you feel bad, but Wanda showed no signs of giving an apology and you would be damned if you did first.

Natasha and Steve waited for any kind of response from either of you and got nothing. You and Wanda continued to glare at each other from opposite sides of the table, your stubnorness stopping either of you from looking at the two standing at the head of the table.

"Just write up your reports." Steve sighed, giving into the tension of the room before anyone else. If it had been just you, Wanda and Natasha there was no telling how long you'd be in there.

You both got up from the table at the same time, still refusing to break eye contact.

"Y/n stay behind a minute." Oh so they're switching it up to disappointed teachers now. Your attention fell to Steve in a look of confusion although that didn't mean you missed the smirk that played on the corner of Wanda's lips. You cursed her like a sailor in your head and hoped she heard but her back was to you and she was strolling out the room.

"I thought you guys were getting better." Steve sighed as he leant against the table.

"We were when we didn't have to talk to each other." You said honestly. There had been a few weeks prior where you and Wanda had had no missions together and therefore had no reason to talk or train with one another.

"You can't resort to avoiding each other as a way to solve your problems. All that does is make things escalate even more when you're actually together which will inevitably happen. Because believe it or not you two are on the same side and have to act like it." Natasha said sternly. You stared down at the table and thought about how how her words were. But it wasn't like you had that warning before.

When the pair infront of you knew you weren't going to say anything in response Steve filled the silence once again. "You're both suspended from missions until you can learn to work together." He decided.

"What?!" You cried as you snapped your head towards them and stood up. "You can't be serious."

"Deadly." Natasha said. You looked frantically between the two in disbelief.

"Alright." You said finally and clenched your jaw. You turned around and left the room without objection from the two Avengers, heading straight towards Wanda's room.

You never really knew why you and Wanda never got on. Maybe it was because she reminded you so much of the popular girls in high school you always envied while wanting them in your bed...no, it definetly couldn't be that. You just didn't know what.

It didn't take long to get there when you were walking like you were out for blood, that wouldn't be an unexpected result of what you planned. You banged on her door several times in a closed fist so it didn't take her long to answer.

She looked concerned when she opened the door and as soon as she realised it was you that same smirk from the meeting room fell back into place.

"Did they ground you?" She asked as she leant against the doorframe.

"Suspended." You spat. A shit eating grin started to appear but you wiped that off her face instantly. "Both of us."

"What the fuck? I didn't-"

"Yes you fucking did and now I'm paying for it too. You wanna know the best part? We can't go back in the field until we can work together nicely." You said bitterly.

"Why don't they just keep us on separate missions?"

"You can go ask them that later. Right now we're training." You said simply and you grabbed her forearm and pulled her out of her room down the corridor.

"We just got back." Wanda argued but followed you anyway after slapping your hand off her.

"Not prepared to put the work in, witchy?" You mocked, not looking at her as you marched through the compound.

"Don't call me that?" Wanda warned as she kept your pace.

"What are you gonna do? Read my mind?" You continued to taunt as you arrived in the gym and made your way to the mats.

Wanda put her red jacket on the floor and stepped away to take up her position as she eyed you. "I could snap all your bones into pieces so small they could be mistaken for ash." Wanda said stoicly.

"I don't think that's gonna get you another mission." You replied calmly, knowing that while there was a truth to Wanda's words she would never give you more than a split lip or bloody nose in the worst training sessions.

"Don't be a smartass y/n, it doesn't suit you." Your jaw clenched at her words.

Without warning, the entirety of your right arm lit up in flames and was aimed at Wanda in an instant.

You sent a wave of fire her way that she swiftly engulfed in her powers and sent back towards you. She looked less than impressed from your warningless attack.

"That was tacky." She said.

"I know, seemed fitting for you." You grinned but stopped when the red mist surrounded your body and lifted you into the air before a larger wave of fire was sent hurtling down to the redhead. The wall of fire blocked her view of you and subsequently dropped you to the ground as she dealt with the flames.

As soon as you landed and the fire parted you sent another blast Wanda's way only for her to do the exact same thing. You both ducked at the same time, your powers hitting opposite walls and leaving marks Tony would be on your asses about when he found out.

Wanda was clearly thinking the same thing. "We can't use our powers in an enclosed space, especially not yours." She said, her accent thickly woven into her voice.

"Okay then, let's see if Natasha's lessons have paid off." You said as you raised your fists and got into your defensive stance. Wanda mirrored you the way she had been taught and narrowed her eyes.

"They definelty have." She insisted as her eyes flickered over your form to try and identify your weak points already in a very obvious way.

"Just try to keep up." You mocked and swiftly moved to swipe her legs out from under her but she was surprisingly prepared. She jumped up to avoid your attack and kicked her leg out mid air and landed it on the center of your chest. You stumbled back in shock while Wanda looked very proud of herself. The last time you saw Wanda train it was clear she wasn't familiar with close range hand to hand combat. You hadn't expected her to improve so significantly in such a short amount of time.

You gritted your teeth and went for her stomach this time which she easily avoided but wasn't expecting another attack to follow so quickly. She blocked the continuous blows from you until you saw your moments and kicked one of her legs out from under her. Your mistake was thinking you succeeded the moment she was down because she spun around and kicked both of your legs out. You caught yourself partly as Wanda stood up so you were on kneeling.

Wanda's smirk was quick to take place when she saw your position, not missing the opportunity. "You look good when you're on your knees." She quipped.

Your eyes widened at her boldness and a heat rose up your neck that you knew wasn't your powers. You rolled back on the balls of your feet and swiftly stood up to look anywhere but the smug redhead infront of you.

"No snarky remark for that?" She challenged and you charged at her again. Anger feuled your attacks making them miscordinated and all round bad.

"Shut the fuck up, Maximoff." You huffed and made her grin even more at the clear signs that she was getting to you.

One of your punches was pushed to the side and Wanda took the chance to show you just how much she had learnt from Nat. You weren't entirely sure how she even did it it was so quick. Your arm was outstretched behind your back painfully due to Wanda's unrelenting grip on it and made it that much easier to push one of your legs down onto the floor. She held you like that for longer than necessary, soaking up the view of you struggling in her grasp.

"Get off." You snapped and winced when she pulled your arm back more.

"What's the magic word?" She teased.

"Now." You demanded. She tutted and pulled harder. "Maximoff!" You ordered through the pain. She leaned down beside you as her voice dropped to a low whisper.

"Beg." It was one word but you couldn't deny the effect it had on you. It was as though her light breath on your ear shot throughout your body and settled in a place you really didn't want it to.

You were about to object and tell her to stop being a bitch but her grip tightened and she pulled to a point where you thought your arm might just snap off under any more pressure.

"Please." You cried through gritted teeth. She instantly let go all too quickly and you collapsed onto the mat on your front. You heard her chuckle menacingly but cut herself off when Nat appeared in the doorway.

"We told you to write up your reports, not train." Natasha scolded as she watched you massage your shoulder and glare at Wanda.

"Sorry, just got a bit carried away." Wanda smiled, her innocent and sweet act that she put up for everyone except you returning. "Y/n's had enough now anyway." She smirked to herself.

"Fucking psycho." You muttered loud enough for her to hear but not Nat. Her jaw visibly clenched from that making you revel in the small victory as you finally got up from the mat.

"Just get on with the reports." Nat sighed and turned to leave as Wanda called out.

"On it."

"Aww, you trying to be a good girl, Maximoff?" You mocked as the pain subsided and your need to overrule what had happened came through.

"I don't have the time to stress over that, not when I'm busy putting brats in their place." Wanda said as she advanced towards you with a look you had only ever seen aimed at those you were fighting against.

"What?" You whispered as you backed up and felt your back hit the wall. Wanda's hand came up suddenly and wrapped itself around your throat firmly and cut off your breathing. Your eyes widened as you grabbed at her hands but she didn't budge. She looked amused at your efforts as her head tilted slightly to the side.

"And you certainly need to learn your place." She took her hand away and left you gasping for air for a split second before grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the gym.

You stumbled a little as you tried to keep up with Wanda's long strides you could usually match. Your whole body was already trembling in anticipation, more so by the tension filled silence between you both as you travelled through the compound and ended up outside the redhead's room.

She opened her door and shoved you into her room swiftly. You didn't have much chance to take in your surroundings because the Sokovian gripped the back of your neck and forced you to lay on your stomach on her bed.

She made quick work of your clothes, discarding them to some soon forgotten about corner.

You turned your head to the side and gripped the sheets as you felt Wanda's slim fingers trialing up the back of your thighs before she gripped them roughly and forced them apart and lifted your lower half up. Her fingers returned and glided along your drippikg folds, collecting your arousal as she reveled in the effect she had on you.

"What was it that made you this wet, slut? Was it being on your knees for me? Begging me? Or did you enjoy the pain? I bet you enjoyed me choking you too." She chuckled darkly and didn't wait for you to respond.

She slipped two fingers inside your soaking cunt without warning making you gasp out in pleasure. Her fingers curled inside you beautifully, brushing some kind of nerve ending every second they were buried inside you. She had you a moaning, quivering mess in no time.

"Wanda...fuck! Right there, oh God!" She snickered against your skin as she worked her fingers expertly. Even then she wanted to test you. Well it was more that she was setting you up for failure.

"Shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear another sound from that whiny mouth." She ordered and you couldn't help but shiver from her dominant nature.

Of course it didn't last long. Her fingers felt so damn perfect inside you and you couldn't help but moan at the unspeakable pleasure.

She brought her hand down fast and landed it on your ass with a harsh smack that echoed through the room. She did it to both of your asscheeks until they were bright red and you were trembling. The sadistic redhead didn't stop there, she continued to rain down smacks that edged you further to your edge with the pleasurable pain.

Soon, you were moaning into the air as you came around Wanda's slim fingers, desperatly clenching around them in an attempt to prolong the pleasure. Thankfully, she kept pumping her fingers inside you, not caring when the overstimulation kicked in. She even started scissoring her fingers inside you, stretching your walls in a way that has you whimper loudly.

"Gotta stretch you a little to get you ready for my piece, sweetheart." She said in a sinister tone. "There's no way you'd be able to take it otherwise, it's already going to reck you with its size." She husked into your ear and withdrew her fingers, spanking you again when you whined.

Wanda got off the bed and disappeared into her closet, shortly returning with a large strap secured around her waist and pointed at you. You whimpered at the sight of it, not sure you could handle its size.

The Sokovian kneeled behind you and gripped your hips with both her hands as she lined up the strap with your entrance.

"I'm going to fill you up so nicely, Princess. Gonna have your cumming in no time." She husked, her voice dripping with lust.

A scream was ripped from your throat when Wanda thrust the entirety of the strap into your pussy. She set about her harsh, abusing pace instantly and preened at the sound of the pleasure filled cries that left you.

She grabbed a fistful of your hair and slammed your head down into the pillows on your side do she could still hear all of your desperate moans. The rough action earned the redhead a cry of her name.

Her pace was unrelenting, everytime she thrust back into you she somehow managed to hit deeper, pounding the toy against the most sensitive and pleasurable part of your cunt.

"Mommy!" You moaned loudly, not realising your slip up until the words left your lips. Your eyes widened and you feared Wanda's response, but what you got was a smack from the redhead that stung your ass in the best way. Her fucked you with increasing vigor too, wanting you title to spill from your lips again. And it did. Over and over, each time going straight to Wanda's pussy.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum." You whimpered as you gripped onto the sheets tighter to prepare yourself for your release. But Wanda pulled the strap out the the very tip and held it there as she leant over to whisper in your ear.

"Beg me." She ordered and you whimpered again. It wasn't like you hadn't already submitted to the red head you hated but begging would be something that would loom over you for a while.

Your thoughts clashed with the overwhelming need from your pussy as it desleratly tried to clamp down on the tip that didn't provide nearly enough pleasure.

"Please, Wanda." You whispered.

"Please who?" She asked sweetly, clearly testing you making you groan.

"Please, mommy just let me cum." You whined and Wanda smacked your ass hard. She edged the dildo in further ever so slowly and stopped again.

"Mommy, please! I need to cum." You tried again, desperation seeping into your voice. Wanda hummed.

"I can see that." She mused as she rubbed small circles on your throbbing and soaked clit. "I just don't see why I should, brat." She punctuated the name with a harsh slap to your ass again and you caught onto what she was hinting at.

"Please, I'll...I'll be so good for you, mommy."

"Yeah, baby?"

"Yes! Please mommy I'll be so so good for you. Just please please let me c-" You were abruptly cut off by your own whorish moan as Wanda snapped her hips forwards and filled you up entirely.

One of her hands tangled itself in your hair and forced your head down into the pillows, not stopping your incoherent babbles filling the room along with the sound of your pussy being fucked by Wanda and her thighs slapping against yours.

The Sokovian tugged on your hair again so your head was off the pillow.

"I'm gonna cum!" You cried out into the air.

"That's it, baby. Soak my fucking cock." And with that demand you came harder than you ever had around Wanda's strap and moaned continuously as the redhead prolonged your pleasure by continuing to pound into you.

But it soon became too much for your sensitive pussy. You squirmed away from Wanda but she placed one hand on the middle of your back to keep you flat against the bed.

"Too much." You managed to say, however the redhead didn't seem to care.

"I'm nowhere near done with you, Princess."

Laying panting and gripping onto Wanda's bedsheets like a lifeline wasn't exactly what you expected to be doing on a Thursday night. You were drenched in sweat and although Wanda had pulled out the toy minutes prior, you were sure you could still feel it filling you up, the faint throbbing a forewarning of what was to come.

It took you a while to gather the strength to get up. With anyone else you probably would have just stayed the night in their bed, but you weren't sure you could do that with Wanda. Although she wouldn't kick you out, you didn't like the thought of sleeping beside the redhead. It seemed far too...soft? Whatever it was, you were sure Wanda would agree.

You searched for your clothes while she took a most likely deliberately long shower, images of her naked figure covered in water invading your mind.

Once you cursed them away they were just replaced with flashes of what you had been doing for all those hours, remembering how she pulled on your hair as she praised you when you went down on her. Of course you did that while on your knees.

What happened between you and Wanda wasn't a one time thing. In fact it became increasingly common until you were in each other's beds almost every night. You would have been fuck buddies if you had considered each other a friend.

It worked. You and Wanda were able to work out your pent up frustration towards each other in a way that didn't hurt one another....well, if that didn't include the scratches along Wanda's back and the constant aching between your legs.

You didn't even make snide comments about each other in meetings or during training. You were able to keep everything in the bedroom.

The success of what you two had going forced you to ignore the noteable change in feelings you had towards Wanda. You saw her differently but couldn't quite tell how. Sometimes it was as though the unplaceable emotion you had towards her from from start spiked and other times you were purely confused.

It was always most prominent after she made you crash over the edge of bliss or when she came undone beneath you. Those moments when your bodies went limp and you were caught up in each other's embrace because you didn't have the energy to move. Hearing her exhausted breathing match her rising and falling chest and faint heartbeat if you had your head on her chest. Those tender moments were the ones that caught you off guard.

You refused to make a big deal out of it though. You refused to investigate your feelings or even acknowledge them. What you had with Wanda was the most efficient thing you could do. You didn't want to muck it up but you knew it couldn't go on forever. Another labelless feeling emerged at that thought.

Natasha was the only one who knew what you were doing. Neither of you told her, the spy was able to figure it all out on her own quickly and confronted you both about it once, only saying to be careful. That was the only time she addressed it verbally but you could always feel her watching you both carefully when you trained.

You thought it was going great. You and Wanda had finally been cleared for a mission that you would both be on, the team certainly needed the man power. That was until Nat told you otherwise.

"What do you mean I'm not going?!" You exclaimed across the room. You had seen Nat in the meeting room looking up something on her tablet and had gone in to enquire something about the mission that was long forgotten.

"I've thought about it and you and Wanda still aren't deemed the most reliable when put together for a mission, with this one being as important as it is we can't afford to make mistakes." Natasha sighed.

"So why don't you take Wanda off the mission? I have more experience."

"Her powers are perfectly fitted to this mission, we need her."

"And not me." You knew you came across as petty, but you had been dying to go back into the field.

"Y/n." Nat tried but you scoffed and glared at the screens with those assigned to the mission. Your eyes found Wanda's picture first and your jaw clenched at the sight of her ridiculously attractive face.

"What did she say to you?" You demanded as something clicked in your brain.

"She didn't say anything, this is my judgement." Natasha began but you didn't buy it.

"We both know if it was you you would have told me as soon as you decided it. You had no issue with me and Wanda being on this mission before. Hell, you cleared us both for the field." Nat glanced down at her tablet guiltily as she searched her brain for another hopeless lie.

"This is unbelievable." You scoffed and turned sharply on your heels to storm out of the room, ignoring your name being called by Nat.

You soon found Wanda in the kitchen making herself a coffee as she hummed softly. You willed your brain to ignore the warmth you got from seeing the redhead in her own, peaceful world.

"Do you have a problem with me?" You demanded, snapping her out of her trance. She visibly figited when she saw you approach her and lean on the edge of the kitchen island on you hands with an expectant look.

"No?" She said, seeming unsure.

"Don't you fucking lie to me." She seemed startled by your increasing aggression.

"What are you talking about?" She asked as she stirred her drink.

"Don't play dumb with me, Maximoff. You got me off the mission!" Wanda stopped her movements as she froze, clearly caught off guard by your discovery. Given how Nat had acted you guessed you weren't meant to find out it was Wanda who said something.

"It's for the best." She finally said but avoided your eye.

"It is not your place to decide what's best for me, you don't get to do that." You argued.

"There should only be a few people on the mission." She tried.

"I know that, I've seen the intel. But we already discussed that those people should be powered. Why am I being taken off?" You demanded again.

"It's dangerous." She muttered as she stared down at her drink.

"It's my fucking job. You think I don't know that."

"Of course you do, but there's a bigger risk than the usual missions we've been on. A bigger risk of you getting hurt." She muttered the last bit, like she wasn't entirely sure she wanted you to hear her. Granted, Wanda showing concern for your safety was new.

"Any one of us could get hurt." You said, lowering your voice marginally.

"But it's you I'm worried about." She insisted. It was your turn to become uncomfortable, shifting slightly under her gaze that held something new.

"I can take care of myself." You said as you crossed your arms, feeling a sudden defensive need to protect yourself.

"I know... but I care about you." You exhaled slowly, becoming increasingly uncomfortable at the tone of her voice. "If something happened to you..." She continued, "I don't know what I would do." Her voice was barely above a whisper, the softness laced in it undeniable. It sparked something in you. Something you didn't want to accept.

"Good luck on your mission, Maximoff." You said through gritted teeth and went to leave but Wanda was behind you instantly and took ahold of your hand to pull you back.

"Wait, I wasn't done-"

"Well I am." You snapped and yanked your hand out of her grip.

"What..?" She said slowly.

"If you don't want to work with me then we won't, no need to keep fucking anymore." You huffed and went to walk away.

"That wasn't what I-"

"Stop!" It wasn't a cry of anger. It was pure desperation. Your pleading look took Wanda by surprise and pained her to see. "Just stop before you say something you can't unsay." You said shakily. Your unspoken message was received. You didn't want to hear about Wanda's feelings towards you. She just didn't know it was because you were afraid that it would uncover what you had been feeling all along. You couldn't handle it. You were scared.

Wanda nodded, defeated, and let you go. You were filled with grief as you walked away, your footsteps feeling heavier than usual. You wanted to look back, to go back to her. But you couldn't.

You distracted yourself with a particularly ruthless training session the day of Wanda's mission. Carol showed you no mercy in sparring, weight lifting and boxing - even encouraging power use every now and then. But your mind still wandered to the redhead the way it usually did.

When you finally collapsed on the mat in defeat Carol chuckled and tossed you your waterbottle before encouraging an ice bath and strolling out of the gym for her evening flight.

You stayed on the floor for a while after you finished your water, only stopping staring up at the ceiling when Nat's outline blocked the lights. You sat up and looked at her hopefully, seeing that she was back from monitoring the mission and didn't seem distraught or upset.

"How did it go?" You asked as she sat down across from you.

"It was a success." She said but she didn't seem all that happy.

"And everyone's okay?" You asked cautiously. Nat gave a half shug and sighed lightly.

"There was ice - a lot if it and it was so cold. Dangerously cold." Nat started. You tried not to clench your jaw or show any signs of annoyance, knowing there was no need to point out that mission was fitted for you and your powers that would have guaranteed everyone's safety.

"Wanda got a little cut up, it was impossible to fight on that ground." You eyed the door and bit your lip, refraining from giving in to the urge to go see her.

"She doesn't want to talk to anyone right now, but she needs seeing to the cut." Nat said as she placed a first aid kit down infront of you. She was back already? And why did you have the kit?

"She won't see anyone either." Nat said before you could verbally question her. It took a moment for you to understand what she was saying.

"I don't think she wants to see me, Nat." You said as you pushed it back her way only for her to toss it into your lap.

"Goddmit, y/n. Can you two stop dancing around each other and actually talk?!" She exclaimed.

"We tried that-"

"Talking, y/n, not shouting or arguing. Talking." She said firmly and got up before you could protest further.

You pondered over what Natasha said for a while. You knew she had a good point, that talking was exactly what you should have done from the start, but it was just another thing that frightened you.

"Your job is facing your fears." You muttered aloud to yourself.

You finally got up from the ground, first aid kit in hand, and trudged along the compound towards Wanda's room. You tried to figure out what you could say on the way. But it all came out a jumbled mess that made no sense. Multiple times you stopped in the hallways and considered turning back before convincing yourself to keep going.

You knocked softly on Wanda's door and was surprised that it opened for you. The redhead in question was sat on her bed with a pillow in her lap, fiddling with her hands the way she always did when she was anxious or deep in thought. That evening it was both.

She glanced up at you as you closed the door but turned back to her pillow quickly when you gave her a short smile that didn't quite meet your eyes.

Regardless, you cautiously walked towards her bed and sat down next to her with the small box between you. You brought one of your legs up under you so you could face Wanda and eyed the cut above her eyebrow in concern. She still didn't say anything, neither did you.

You opened up the small box and got out a pack of wound closure strips and carefully unwrapped one. Wanda didn't object to you gently holding the area around her cut as you placed the strip on and lightly smoothed over the edges until you were sure it would stay on.

"I let my emotions cloud my judgement." She mumbled as you prepped another strip.

"It happens to all of us." You said.

"But I didn't listen to you. I should have." You sighed and stopped unwrapping the strip to look up at the redhead and watch her closely. She looked back at you with a guilty and pained expression that was full of regret.

"Yeah." You nodded slowly as you went back to the medical tape and raised your hands to put it on but the Sokovian held your wrist to stop you. "What's done is done, so just let me put these on and we're good." You said but she still didn't let go.

"Just like that?" She questioned.

"The mission was a success. If I'd had been there you wouldn't have gotten hurt, that's all."

"You were really mad though." She continued and you put your hands down to rest them, not failing to notice that Wanda was still holding your wrist but with a much lighter grip.

"It's hard to stay mad at you." You admitted.

"You've always been mad at me."

"Well it wasn't exactly like you were the friendliest person to me." You pointed out. "I was never mad at you, Wanda. I just hated that... that you made me feel something I've never trusted, so I didn't trust you. It was never your fault, I was unfair." You admitted as you stared down at the tape the whole time, afraid to meet the redhead's eyes.

"What did you feel?" Wanda asked, her voice void of emotion making it more difficult for you to say. You gulped as you continued to stare at the tape, willing yourself to give Wanda the answer she needed. The answer she deserved.

"Love." You voice shook. "I loved... love you." You were shaking more as you finally looked up at Wanda. Her eyes were wide and her lips slightly parted like there was a million thoughts trying to be heard but without the ability to.

She didn't say anything for a while. A long while. She stared at you in disbelief then at her pillow as though it would give her all the answers.

Tears rushed to your eyes that you tried to blink away as your head swam with curses to yourself for admitting your feelings. You had opened up and been vulnerable to Wanda, and the result was the exact reason you had sworn to never do it again.

Once you were sure she wasn't going to say anything to you, you took it as your cue to leave. To leave so Wanda could prepare her rejection speech for you. However, as soon as you put your hand to the door she spoke out.

"Please don't go."

You turned around slowly and met her light brown eyes you had always found impossible not to get lost in when you had your fingers or tongue inside her. You timidly went back to the bed and paused before sitting down next to her, facing the wall instead of her this time.

"I thought it was one sided." She started and you felt yourself begin to shake with nerves again. "I thought you didn't love me back." You looked to Wanda quickly and searched her features for any signs of a lie, any signs that she was setting you up to push you down but she was gazing back at you longingly with tears glistening in her eyes.

"When you confronted me about the mission, I was going to say it then, you knew that." You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded, remembering the fear you felt in that moment.

"I wasn't ready, I thought I wouldn't ever be but," You took a deep breath "I want to try, for you." You took ahold of Wanda's hand to reiterate your point. "I care about you too Wanda, so much. More than I could ever express or even handle and I didn't know what to do about it. I mean we've tried a fair few things now," You both laughed a little, "but it I don't think any of them are going to work as well as accepting it and...and I don't know." You looked to her for guidance because fuck did you need it. You needed Wanda to guide you down whatever path you chose to take, as long as she was there with you.

"Maybe we could start with something small." She suggested with a small smile that made her eyes shine.

"Like a coffee date?" You tried.

"Exactly like that." She confirmed, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Then I'll pick you up around 2." You said cheesily making Wanda laugh. "But first, I have to finish tending to this cut." You declared as you turned around to face her entirely and crossed your legs under you, pausing for a moment to give Wanda a short and sweet kiss.

#wanda maximoff imagines #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff fluff #enemies to lovers

1K notes · View notes

deviliciousdev · 4 years ago

Text

✨appreciation post for the types✨

- from your local intp🖤

--------------------------------

✨The Intuitives ✨

entj (the commander)

Where to even start, as an intp i have a special place in my heart for entjs and that place is my whole heart. Your ambitious nature makes you charming and intriguing, but the fact that you're secretly a nerd and love learning new things no matter what the topic (and are a whole baby✨ aka the little spoon) is the reason you're simultaneously the intp's best friend and soul mate. 💖

p.s you're not mean, you're hilarious, and i love that you're the best out of all the types at roasting people.

entp (the debater)

ah yes the other half to the "nerds of chaos" dynamic duo. your determination and open mind, provide for some of the best times. if two types were ever the most similar to the point of twins, it would be the entp x intp best friend dynamic. truly there is no one i trust more to tell literally anything to. you're someone who will never belittle or judge in high horse way. but still be honest and leave nothing out. if you feel a way you say it, with no guessing or game playing. and your humor and pet peeves are the exact same as the intp's and as i'm sure you'll agree. being able to hate the same things and laugh at little kids eating shit (even though we're not suppose to 💀) is the pinochle of best friend twinning. (at least for xntps lol)

intj (the architect)

ohhhh, you, you little minx. and i know you hate being called that, which is why it would be your contact in my phone. your lowest points are probably the thing intp's (unlike everyone else), like the most. you know what i mean... don't pretend you don't... *whispers* your lil melt downs, when ya get real serial killery... *snorts with laughter* oh don't worry you're still the superior being. 😏 in all honesty what would the intp be without you... that was rhetorical! stop listing things! anyway, your organized methodical approach is so satisfying. and your smooth intellectual burns that go over most people's heads, brings true peace to all NTs souls. thank you for your service. 🙏

enfj (the protagonist)

you're the main character. and i mean really. when you're at your best, at a large scale, you can lead generations, save those in need, do some seriously rob stark from game of thrones type shit (the most beloved stark by the people and the best leader tbh) on a small scale, you motivate those around you to charge into battle even when we literally just live in the city and are trying to get through college and the corporate world. 💀 even the rogue, pride themselves on being individuals intps, would follow you into the fire. and it's not just because of your charisma either, you actually think in big terms and care about things and people. keep being the king/queen in north (what they called rob stark when he fought for the North's independence)

enfp (the campaigner)

ok not gonna lie, i was so excited to get to yours... you are so incredibly enthusiastic and confident and some how self deprecating at the same time. you are genuinely fun. like the definition of fun. if you were a dog you'd be a golden retriever. no matter how bad things get, you are the one that can make someone smile. your laugh is infectious and no one and i mean no one, can make an intp laugh soooo hard like you can. you can make anything interesting. your idealistic humor has had me crying laughing in the canned foods isle of a grocery store, while you held onto the cart holding a can of bean sprouts, even though we were there getting ingredients for waffles and french toast... like how did we even get on that isle?? why were you holding a can of bean sprouts?? who's to know when you're both intuitive perceivers. ilysm, never ever change. 🖤

infj (the advocate)

you're the best person to go to for advice. genuinely. no matter what you think about yourself (that day lol). you see things in people that they don't even see in themselves. you care about those around you so much to the point you don't like talk about your own troubles. it takes time for you to open up, but when you do, you can be just as weird and hilarious as intps and sometimes more so. we always have fun doing seemingly mundane things like watching crappy horror movies or making frozen pizza. you plan THEE most incredible parties and activities. like seriously some of the best holiday/travel memories i have came from your mind and your company. you bring a gentle order to the chaos of life. my thanks for your being and your infj services transcends words. so i'll just say fannnkksss 😁.

infp (the mediator)

the most opposite and simultaneously most similar to the intp. you are thhheeeee bessttt. you make everyone around you feel comfortable. i can always come to you when i feel like i'm losing my fucking mind and you always know how to explain emotions and human interactions to me. not to mention giving some real slap in the face advice that is much needed! so helpful, one of the best wingmen/match makers, and probably the funniest type when drunk (next to entj). you can chill and watch movies all day or go out to a winery and have a great time. i swear no one is more quotable. we still say hilarious words or sayings you've said years ago and has now been developed into our everyday vernacular. people seriously underestimate you and you do the most and never look for praise or self-aggrandizing ass kissing. you are the LAST person to be a teacher's pet and are one of the most selfless people i know. keep doin you boo 👻

*stay tuned for a letter to the sensors✨*

591 notes · View notes

drarryangels · 4 years ago

Note

Prompts are open! Professors!Drarry, husbands, one tells students all about his husband. No one knows who that is. Until one day sth clues them in. And everyone's like - WHAAAA?! Bets are lost. McG is amused.

Hello there! This is the oldest prompt in my ask box, haha! So sorry it took like two years to get around to this.... *blushes*

Anyways, I hope you like!

“That will be all for today,” Harry says. “You can have the rest of the period to work.”

He leans back against his desk and watches the scramble of students trying to pair off with their friends. He smiles and shakes his head. Every day is the same. Gloriously, marvelously, wonderfully the same.

“Professor Potter?”

Harry looks over to one of his students, a slight teenage girl with her hair tied up into three ponytails. “Yes, Miss Wimblefon?”

She twirls a curl of hair around her finger and smiles up at him. “I had a question for you. About the assignment.”

Harry sighs and waves his hand. “Ask away.”

“You said that the enchantment only works if the user is truly in love,” she begins.

Harry nods and folds his arms. “Precisely. Which is why you are only working on the theoretical application of this spell, and not trying to use it on your classmates.”

Jane giggles. “I’m in love. Can I give it a try?”

Harry stands up and brushes off the front of his robes. “You most certainly may not, Miss Wimblefon. As much as I am pleased by your interest in the subject, it’s not appropriate nor safe to produce the enchantment even when one is truly in love, and I have the strong suspicion that you are not.”

Jane’s cheeks go red. “Well, what does the spell do anyways?” she says, crossing her arms and huffing.

“An excellent question,” Harry says. “An easily answered one if you do your reading.” He holds his hand out to the classroom, and she gives him one last glare before turning on her heel and taking a seat with Mildred Daney.

“Merlin,” Harry says, dropping down onto the bed and spreading his arms out wide.

“What is it?” Draco asks, emerging from the bathroom and leaning against the door frame with his toothbrush stuck out of his mouth. “Jane flirting with you again?”

Harry groans and rolls over on the bed. “How did you know?”

Draco disappears to spit out his toothpaste, and then returns, smelling of mint and citrus shampoo. He climbs up the bed and drops down beside Harry, curling an arm around his waist and pressing his nose in the back of his neck.

��Because she’s the exact same with me,” Draco sighs. “Always playing with that bloody hair of hers.”

“She’s a sixth year already,” Harry says to the wall. “Isn’t this a bit odd?”

Draco nuzzles in closer behind Harry. “Someone should tell her that if she keeps tugging at that hair, it will all fall out by the time she’s twenty.”

Harry laughs. “Don’t you dare, Draco. Her mother will tear down the school.”

Draco bumps his head between Harry’s shoulder blades. “Well, then it will be McGonagall’s problem.”

Harry twists and rolls over to face Draco, his face smiling and bright. “You know,” Harry says, touching their noses together. “I think you may be right.”

“Oh, yes?”

“Yes,” Harry says and pushes himself on top of Draco, knees on either sides of his hips and arms around his shoulders. “Get Jane out of our hair.” He sets his head down on Draco’s chest. “And while we’re waiting for her mother to Floo in, we can plan our joint funeral, hm?”

“Bit early, isn’t it?” Draco says. He lifts his hands and rubs them up and down Harry’s back.

“Oh, no. Not at all,” Harry says. He lifts his head up and grins at Draco. “In fact, it may be a bit late if McGonagall has anything to do with it.”

Draco rolls his eyes. “Forget I said anything.”

“That’s what I thought,” Harry says, and drops his head back down on Draco’s chest.

Draco is so warm, so soft. Nice. A weight tethering him to the ground, to sanity.

“Good night,” Harry sighs.

Draco smacks his bum. “Get up and brush your teeth, you buffoon.”

Harry groans as Draco pushes him away, all the way off of the bed.

“Why?” Harry wails as he hits the ground with a great oof.

“Because I love you,” Draco says happily before sending a stinging jinx in the direction of Harry’s backside. “Very, very much.”

“Hello, Professor Potter,” Jane says. She’s twirling her hair again.

“Hello, Miss Wimblefon,” Harry says over his breakfast potatoes. “May I help you with something?”

“Yes,” she says, looking rather pleased with herself with her chin all drawn up. “The book says that the enchantment provides a binding connection to the user’s true love. One that doesn’t break until death.”

Harry squirts some ketchup onto his plate. “Almost correct.”

“What?”

Harry picks up a piece of bacon. “Almost correct. The enchantment doesn’t die after death. That’s why it’s so complicated. It must be a mutual bonding, and both parties must be truly in love with the other. And the bond doesn’t break after death, which opens up a certain realm of questioning about putting intention behind spells.”

Jane shakes her head hard. “What does it benefit though? Why engage in such complicated and dangerous magic? What does it do?”

Harry smiles and sets his bacon down. “Miss Wimblefon, would you mind continuing this conversation during our class time? I’m trying to enjoy my breakfast.”

Draco snorts beside him.

Jane glances over at Draco briefly and narrows her eyes. She opens her mouth to speak again, but Draco looks up from his hash and stares at her with wide grey eyes. Too wide to really be attractive, people have said before. Harry likes them.

“Right then,” she says, and runs off.

“Bless you,” Harry says, linking his pinkie into Draco’s.

Draco raises his eyebrows. “Harry.”

“Yes, my love?” Harry smiles at him. Innocently, very innocently.

“Why are you teaching verus amor est alliges duplicia?” Draco glares at him, and squeezes hard with his pinkie finger. “That’s extremely complicated magic.”

Harry shrugs. “No reason at all.”

Draco sighs and winds the rest of his fingers through Harry’s. “Oh, Harry.”

Harry grins. “Oh, Draco.”

“It’s class time now,” Jane says.

Harry glances up at his charmed clock over the archway in his office. “Not quite, Miss Wimblefon.”

“Well,” she says, already sitting down in the chair opposite him. “I didn’t want to interrupt your lecture, so I thought I’d pop in early.”

“Right,” Harry says. It’s probably best to get this over with. Maybe if Harry answers all her questions, she’ll leave him alone. “Go on then.”

“I’m curious to know what is the purpose of the spell.” She folds her hands on Harry’s desk and leans forward.

Harry pushes his chair back slightly. “It’s an irreversible connection with the person who loves you most in the world. It links you together. So, theoretically, if one half of the pairing was hurt, the other would know it. If something good has happened to one, the other feels their happiness.”

“So they share feelings?” Jane asks.

“No,” Harry says. “It’s not sharing. It’s just a sense. An added knowledge.”

“And what else?” she demands.

“It can act as a protective charm, if in dire circumstances,” Harry says. “A bubble of defense, if the two are physically close.”

Jane sighs and kicks her loafers on the floor. “It sounds fine, but not worth the magic.”

Harry smiles. He’d felt the same way when he’d first learned of it. “Well it’s more than that. The best part about it is the connection. It is difficult to explain, even for those who have experienced it. It is a joining of skin, two souls being one, a linking of magic. It is being melded with another person, body, soul, and mind. It is having them with you, always.”

Jane’s mouth opens a bit. “Er. Professor Potter?”

“Yes?” Harry asks pleasantly.

“Are you bonded to someone?” Jane asks, looking scared and excited all at once.

“To my husband, yes,” Harry says, and smiles at her.

Jane falls out of her chair.

It takes another four days after Jane faints in Harry’s office before she comes to confront him again.

“You’re completely oblivious to it,” Draco is saying to Harry. “He has an excellent aptitude for Potions. He’s very talented, really.”

They’re in greenhouse four, so Draco can collect clippings for a potion in his classes the next day. Harry hovers by Draco’s side, not doing anything particularly useful.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Please, you should see him in Defense. I might as well transfigure him into a hippo, and see if it changes the results.”

Draco touches a hand to his chest. “My, my, Harry. I think you’re spending too much time with me.”

Harry pushes at him. “I know I am. Thank Merlin for it.”

“Professor Potter?”

Harry trips and nearly stumbles over into a collection of finger eating bushes before Draco grabs his sleeve and hauls him up.

“Hello, Miss Wimblefon,” Draco says coolly. “May I ask you what you’re doing out of bed at this hour?”

Her eyes pass over Draco. “Professor Potter, I have more questions for you.”

Harry is still choking on his breath. “Er. Yes. Miss Wimblefon, can we resume this conversation at a later time?”

“No,” she says, and comes to stand next to him. “Carry on with your walk. I’ll simply join in.”

They have no choice but to walk.

“I didn’t know you were married,” Jane begins immediately as they’re leaving the greenhouse. “Especially not to a man.”

Draco throws an elbow in Harry’s direction and raises both his eyebrows in question. What is she talking about? he mouths. Harry shakes his head. He has no idea.

“So you’ve performed verus amor est alliges duplicia.”

Draco straightens up beside Harry. He chooses not to look over at him for fear of being burned to the ground with the look on Draco’s face.

“Quite,” Harry says.

“With whom?”

Harry stops. “What do you mean with whom?”

He looks over at Draco, who looks just as bewildered as Harry does, his irritation at Harry’s curriculum forgotten.

Jane stops too and looks back at them. “Who are you married to?”

Harry could fall over laughing.

Draco speaks before he can. “Miss Wimblefon. What is my name?”

Jane finally looks at him. “Professor Potter?”

“Yes.” Draco says very slowly. “My name is Draco Potter.”

Jane shakes her head, still looking confused. “So?”

Draco huffs and flicks his hair off his cheekbones. “So I share a last name with Harry Potter. Who do you think I am?”

“Potter is a common name, it’s not weird that you both have....” Her eyes go wide. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh,” Draco snaps. “Merlin and Arthur, these children get dimmer every year. Potter’s a common name. Honestly!”

Jane turns and takes off running up to the castle.

Harry lets out a breath and holds out his hand for Draco to take. “I think you’re right, love. They really are getting dimmer.”

Draco takes his hand, gentle. “Why did we choose this career path anyways?”

Harry shrugs and they begin the walk up to the castle together. “Good pay?”

Draco blows out a hard laugh. “Good pay, indeed.”

Jane Wimblefon tells the entire school that Professor Harry Potter and Professor Draco Potter are married at breakfast the next day.

Harry drops his head into his hands and Draco rolls his eyes. Headmistress McGonagall stands up briskly and walks right out of the Great Hall. Hagrid bursts out laughing before knocking over the entire front table, and Professor Flitwick along with it.

The students go into a frenzy, jumping up and running from table to table, expressions of shock painted over their faces.

“Forget dim,” Draco says, looking out over the chaos. “This generation is entirely brain dead.”

Harry laughs so hard he gets marmalade in his hair.

#ask box #prompt #drarry #fic #fanfic #essentially plotless #fluff #domestic #professor harry #professor draco #husbands #hogwarts #mine #my work #draco malfoy #harry potter

559 notes · View notes

dreamerstreamer · 4 years ago

Text

Telltale Talent

Pairing: Dream / Clay x gn!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] When Dream tries to teach you how to spar, he learns that you’re more than what meets the eye.

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: this was requested by an anon who wanted a fun sparring practice with a surprise! here’s to the first fic of 2021, and i hope you enjoy <3

Clay stared down at the map on his desk, his fingers curling tighter around the quill in his hands. A mess of scribbles and circles gazed back up at him as he made another mark. He bit back the sigh that threatened to escape his throat, his brow twitching.

You were doing it, again.

He could feel your eyes on him from the other side of the room, practically boring a hole through his skull. He clenched his jaw, chewing on his lip as he tried to focus his attention on the map lying before him. If you were going to do what he thought you were going t—

At that exact moment, you opened your mouth, but he spoke before you could.

“No.”

Almost immediately, a whine flew from your lips, and you thrashed your legs in annoyance. “What?! Why not?” You frowned, determination etched into your features. “It’ll be a good experience!”

This time, he actually did sigh, lifting his head to look at you dead on, balancing his quill between his fingers. “For one, it’s not like you’re not going to go into battle, anyway.”

Your frown deepened, a line forming between your brows as you shot him a longing look. “That doesn’t mean you still can’t teach me how to spar.”

He pursed his lips, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. “There’s no need to.”

For a few seconds, you simply stared at one another, your eyes swimming with resolve as he grimaced. Then your face lit up, and you shot your arm into the air, making him jump.

“Self-defence!” you shouted, your entire body practically glowing with hope. “If you teach me how to spar, then I could use it for self-defence purposes.” Before he could open his mouth to retort, you cut him off with a cold look. “Clay, you can’t tell me that there’s no chance that I won’t ever have to defend myself—you just can’t.”

Clay blinked at you, glowering. You weren’t wrong, per se. He didn’t want to acknowledge it, but there was still a very real possibility that at any point, you could be in danger, regardless of whether or not you were on the battlefield. It wasn’t that he didn’t think you were capable of keeping yourself safe, but teaching you how to fight would mean having to admit that there may come a time where he couldn’t be there for you.

The mere thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He stared at you for a long moment, taking in the sight of your pleading face and clenched hands, your eyes desperately searching his. Then, he sighed once more, setting his quill down in its holder. “Fine.”

You let out a delighted squeal, springing to your feet before bounding over to his desk. Bending over, you pressed a quick peck to his cheek. His heart skipped a loving beat in his chest, and his cheeks flushed pink.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, Clay!” you cried, flashing him a bright grin as you pulled back. Your eyes curved into crescent moons as you giggled with glee. “You won’t regret this, I promise!”

He rested his head on his hand as he watched you cheer to yourself, pumping your air in a successful dance. A small smile flitted across his face, his emerald eyes crinkling at the corners as his map lay forgotten on the desk.

Oh, who was he kidding? You were far too cute to say no to, even if he wanted to.

“So, what’s first?”

He hummed, tucking a hand under his chin. Above you, the midday sun beat down on you both, the clouds watching with eager eyes as Clay paced around the clearing.

He was lucky to have found a spot within the forest that was both open and had plenty of soft grass. This way, you’d have a proper spot to practice while also having some semblance of cushioning beneath you in case you fell. As much as he wanted to simulate a real fight scenario for you, he didn’t want you to actually get injured. He could hardly manage to keep his cool when you got a simple scrape on your finger—there was no way he’d remain calm if you got hurt in a fight, practice or not.

His steps suddenly came to a halt, and he turned on his heel to look at you with a thoughtful glance. “Before we even properly start practicing,” he began, raising two fingers, “there are two things you should know and remember.”

Your eyebrows knit together as you let out a small whine, your shoulders sinking at your side. “Aw, is this a lecture?” You frowned. “I just want to skip to the fun part, already.”

Clay rolled his eyes as shook his head, but you didn’t miss the tiny smile on his lips as he wagged his fingers at you. “Ah, ah, ah. I’m the teacher here, so you better pay attention.”

You shot him a sour look, then quietly grumbled, “Well, you’re not a very fun teacher.”

He scowled at that, placing a hand on his hip. “We’re getting there!” His gaze softened, and his tone grew gentle as he offered, “Let’s just do this first, okay? I promise I’ll keep it short, and you will get to try a real spar, today.”

Your frown was slowly replaced by a smile, and you sent him a keen look, shifting forward onto your toes. “Okay.”

He grinned, taking a few steps back from you until he was standing on the opposite side of the clearing. “Good. First,” he said, pointing his two fingers at his eyes then to yours, “never take your eyes off your enemy.” He cocked his head as he lowered his arm. “It may seem obvious to you, but you’d be surprised by how often people forget in the heat of the moment.”

Your gaze was serious when you nodded, and he was almost taken aback by how quickly your demeanour had changed. “I can do that.”

He blinked for a second, then sent you another encouraging smile. “Perfect. Second,” he carried on, pointing downward, “remember that your feet exist.”

“Okay—wait.” You froze, your eyebrows furrowing together as confusion flickered across your face. “What?”

He chuckled at your confused expression, dropping his arm. “I know it sounds dumb, but it’s true! You see,” he explained, tapping a finger against his temple, “the human brain is kind of dumb, and a lot of the time when it comes to fights, a person’s first instinct is to focus on their enemy’s hands and immobilize them.” He raised his hand toward you, curling it into a tight fist. “After all, they are pretty effective weapons. But your feet can be just as, if not more, powerful.” His gaze darted back to yours. “Do you follow?”

Slowly, you nodded, your eyes staring directly at his knuckles. “In the same way,” he continued, “it’s also good to remember that your elbows and knees are two of the strongest parts of your body.” He raised one hand, the other reaching over to tap his elbow. “Don’t be afraid to use them, because they can be especially useful.”

Your lips parted as you bobbed your head. He could practically see the gears churning in your head, and he almost wanted to coo at how focused you looked. “Feet, elbows, knees,” your murmured quietly to yourself, huffing. “Got it.”

He dropped his arm, his lips quirking. “Awesome.” He turned slightly to the side, shifting his weight onto his back foot. “Now that the so-called boring part is done, do you just want to give it a first go and try a practice fight? First person to knock the other person over wins.”

Your eyes lit up, and for a split second, Clay could have sworn he saw something dark flicker through your gaze. But it was gone as soon as it had appeared, and he was soon blinded by your dazzling grin. “Sure!”

His expression mirrored yours as he brought his arms up in front of him, his hands forming fists. In front of him, your eyes quickly scanned him up and down, and you slowly moved to copy his stance. He felt a tinge of satisfaction shoot through him. You were a fast learner.

“I’m ready when you are,” he called, cracking his neck with a grunt.

Your eyes narrowed, your tongue darting out to wet your lips, and for a moment, all was still.

Then, in a flash, you were charging toward him, stopping only just in front of him to throw your fist at his skull. He smiled at your earnest effort, quickly twisting to the side. You nearly toppled forward when your fist met empty air, and he reveled in your widening eyes. A split second later, you leapt back, swinging your left leg up and into his side. But just before your shin made impact with his hoodie, he lifted his arm, his hand quickly latching onto your ankle and holding it in place.

“Ooh, nice try, sweetheart,” he hummed, shooting you a crooked grin. He drank in the shocked look on your face as his expression grew a fraction darker and his grip on your ankle tightened.

“But not nice enough.”

He swiftly threw down your foot, watching as you stumbled back at the force. You didn’t get the chance to regain your balance before he was suddenly looming beside you, his fist flying toward your nose. With a yelp, you ducked, your arm shooting above your head to grab his arm in midair. He blinked as your fingers dug into his sweater, curling tightly into the fabric. Then, a devious grin crept onto his face.

As much as you may try, he had the upper hand when it came to brute strength.

But to his shock, he felt something sharp and hard slam into his gut, knocking the air straight out of his lungs. He quickly back-pedaled, but your hold on his sleeve didn’t let up. He only barely caught a glimpse of your kneecap before you stepped behind him, twisting his arm around and pinning it to his back. Just then, he felt something brush against his ankle.

No way.

In the blink of an eye, his legs were flying out beneath him, and he was flipping into the air. With a thud, he slammed into the ground, a dull ache shooting through his back as the grass cushioned his fall. Before he could even react, you quickly placed your foot on his chest, keeping him thoroughly pinned down.

His eyes were the size of saucers as he took in your half-shaking figure, your eyes trained on his fallen form. You panted above him, your fists slowly uncurling. “Was—was that good?”

Clay gaped at you, his head spinning with what you’d just done. You had just knocked him, a trained soldier and practiced assassin, flat on his back with practically no instructions whatsoever. He had only given you two—well, two and a half—simple tips before putting you on the spot, and you still managed to take him down.

There was no sugarcoating it—you were a prodigy.

If he wasn’t in love with you before, then he definitely was, now.

Pride swelled in his chest as he closed his mouth, swallowing. He stared at you for a moment longer before shaking his head free from his reverie. He couldn’t wait to teach you more.

“[Y/N],” he breathed, his lips stretching into an awed grin, “you’re amazing.”

You blinked, pointing to yourself in surprise. “I-I am?”

He nodded without even an ounce hesitation, his grin growing even wider. “Very.” With a small grunt, he pushed himself back onto his feet, dusting off his behind before turning back to you. “Now,” he said, “do it again.” His eyes glinted with something akin to mischief. “I won’t go easy on you this time.”

You tilted your head at him as a devilish smile of your own tugged at your lips. “In that case, neither will I.”

He raised a brow at you, but he couldn’t stop the affection bubbling up in between his lungs. He felt his heart beat faster as you settled into a fighting stance, your arms raised in front of you. “That’s the spirit.”

Your eyes locked onto each other, and for a moment, all was still.

Then, you came barreling towards him, your eyes glimmering in the sunlight. His lips curled into a smirk as he raised his foot.

Perhaps teaching you to fight wasn’t too bad of an idea, after all.

913 notes · View notes

makeste · 4 years ago

Text

BnHA Chapter 299: No Chains Left

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “and then AFO broke out all of the inmates from six other prisons and took a nap. well anyways, here’s the hospital angst.” Kacchan woke up two days later and was all, “WAIT BUT HOW ARE DEKU AND TODOROKI AND ALL OF THE OTHER CHARACTERS EXCEPT IIDA DOING” and then we cut to Shouto’s room where the other U.A. kids were sitting around being Mutually Traumatized and giving each other moral support and such. Everyone was alll, “...”, and then the rest of the Todofam showed up, INCLUDING POSSIBLY REI?! which, omg. The chapter ended with Kacchan STOMPING THROUGH THE HALLS all “WHADDYA MEAN DEKU HASN’T WOKEN UP YET”, dragging along Satou and Mineta behind him, fueled by the power of ALL OF THE FUCKS HE NOW GIVES. He gives so many fucks now you guys. This boy cares so much he can probably deduct it on his taxes.

Today on BnHA: SPEAKING OF PEOPLE WHO GIVE A LOT OF FUCKS, the story cuts abruptly to Hawks, freshly recovering from his near-death experience, and pondering the threads that have weaved the tapestry of his life and led him to this moment. Basically he grew up in poverty with his Jerk Dad and Jerk Mom until his dad got arrested one day and his mom sent him off to go Find Money Or Something, and so he rescued a busload of people and found himself a new career. Back in the present day, Hawks and Jeanist ride around town in Jeanist’s Jamborghini having awkward encounters with civilians in a country on the brink of social collapse, and visiting Hawks’s mother’s home. Hawks is all “I know from an outsider’s perspective it must look like my life currently sucks, but now that the HPSC is gone, my public image is shot, and my parents are finally out of my life, I’m actually feeling SURPRISINGLY GOOD.” Anyway so he’s gonna go meet up with Endeavor now, and p.s. this chapter was fucking fantastic though, damn.

oh my god?? is this Hawks narration?? something about him growing up watching the heroes on TV and thinking of them as fictional characters

okay I scrolled down a little bit more to see the rest of that “Keigo” panel, and wow

this is basically a shed. poor boy definitely grew up rough. let me tell you guys, I came in here ready for some BakuDeku shenanigans; I was not prepared for Hawks Flashback Angst. I AM HERE FOR IT, but also wow I gotta brace myself now lol

HELLO MISTER HAWKS’S JERK DAD, SIR

BnHA sure does have an array of Jerk Dads, doesn’t it. makes me appreciate characters like Masaru and JirouDad all the more for bucking the trend

anyway. so Horikoshi, you really thought that one itty bitty chapter of hospital catharsis would be enough to calm us all before you went right back to showing us child abuse huh. my god man can we rest

BABY HAWKS

swear to god this kid can’t be more than five or six, and yet he has this completely blank look on his face even with his dad looming over him being all threatening and shit. like he’s shut down his emotions to protect himself. imagine what has to happen to a child for him to have learned this at such a young age. fuck

AND MEANWHILE THIS GUY

don’t mingle with humans?? not “other” humans, just humans?? what is this implying here?? and also holy shit Hawks definitely didn’t inherit his looks from his dad orz

then again he doesn’t really bear much of a resemblance to his strung-out mom here either

omg omg omg. and this child is basically trapped here in this environment with these two people. this explains a SHITLOAD about Hawks’s personality though you guys. his ability to completely separate his real thoughts from the face he presents to the outside world. his pragmatic approach to analyzing and solving problems. his layers of emotional walls. turns out almost none of that came from the HPSC training -- that was all learned hands-on in his own personal do-or-die survival nightmare childhood!! oh, boy

and small wonder then that he latched on to Endeavor so strongly if he really is the one who brought down his dad and inadvertently saved him from this. also, just putting this out there, I know people are always talking about him and Dabi being foils, and I think it’s very interesting how Touya grew up in a household where he saw firsthand the dark side of hero society, and so ended up becoming a villain in order to bring it down. whereas young Keigo had almost the exact opposite experience, growing up experiencing the dark side of villain society and becoming a hero in order to bring about a world where no one else has to experience that. just. both of them are so determined not to become their fathers. some interesting parallels there

so Hawks was sort of an accident after his parents had “thanks for helping me not get caught after I killed that guy” sex, and now this little boy is growing up in squalor and being beaten by his father for things like Sitting In The Wrong Out-Of-The-Way Corner Trying Not To Be A Bother To Anybody. holy fuck. this is so rough to read through you guys

wait so does Jerk Dad have a an eyeball manipulation quirk?? because he doesn’t have the wings like his son, but wth are these things??

this presumably also means that Keigo has never been to school or anything either. he basically doesn’t exist. he thinks heroes are fictional characters, he doesn’t realize that they’re real people. these are people who could help him if he could escape and find them, but he doesn’t know, and they don’t know about him

OH MY GOD HE’S JUST SITTING IN HIS CORNER HUGGLING HIS ENDEAVOR PLUSH OH MY GOD

how could this child possibly have an anti-fandom when he’s done NOTHING WRONG HIS ENTIRE LIFE. huh. just explain that to me. lol I mean I’m not looking to pick a fight with anyone, but also, MAYBE I AM, idk?? this kid has gotten me all riled up lmao

anyways, Protect Keigo 2021, and thank you Horikoshi for these three very terrible pages. I am pleased to inform you that you’ve effectively gotten your point across and you may now commence saving this kid already

YAY

oh no, Keigo’s dumbass jerk dad tried to steal a car and the popo nabbed his ass and now his mom can’t just sit around neglecting her VERY YOUNG SON all day long, oh horrors. sorry lady my tiny violin is on backorder. just imagine that I’m playing a very sarcastic song on it for you

anyway so what are you gonna do now, abandon him? I can hardly imagine he’d be worse off, if anything it might be a near-instant improvement

LMAO HE’S ALL “WAIT WHAT ENDEAVOR’S A REAL FUCKING DUDE?!”

AND THEY SAY THAT A HERO CAN SAVE US~~~~ I’M NOT GONNA STAND HERE AND WAAAAAIT~~~~~ I’LL HOLD ONTO THE WINGS OF THE EAGLES, WATCH AS WE ALL FLY AWAAAAAAY~~~~

lol what a randomly pivotal moment in his young life. TIME TO GO MAKE THESE MEMES INTO DREAMS YOUNG ONE

anyway so his mom freaked out and grabbed him and they wound up at a train station with her TELLING HIM TO GO GET HER SOME MONEY, oh my god. SURE MOM LEMME JUST WALTZ RIGHT ON DOWN TO THE “JOBS FOR FIVE-YEAR-OLDS” STORE AND TELL THEM I NEED SOME CASH. ffff manifesting someone to come help him in 3... 2...

...

SIGH, JUST GO RESCUE THE PEOPLE FROM THE BUS, KEIGO. is this the outfit he was wearing when that happened?? it must be, right?? I can’t imagine them surviving more than a couple days out here unless this starts getting REALLY dark in a way I know that even Horikoshi won’t explore, so yeah. cut to the HPSC now please. never thought we’d be glad to see them. I mean sure, it may be an “out of the frying pan...” case, but good god

THANK YOU!!

and I guess it was his mom’s eyeball quirk then. anyway, whatever, see you again never, hopefully. lol oh man. thaaaat, was upsetting. need to center myself here for a sec. NAMASTE

OH YAY THE PRESENT

so we cut from Baby Hawks Angst straight to Present Day Hawks Angst, huh. not that this exhausted and traumatized lil lad isn’t still a baby to me too, I’ll have you know

BEST JEANIST, ALWAYS WITH THE JOKES

“WHEW, THOUGHT YOU DIED ON ME FOR A SEC THERE KID.” lmao. Caleb will no doubt ruin this by making his word choice all stiffly formal as usual, so I’m just going to treasure this “WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT, I’M FRESH OUT OF FUCKS” version of Jeanist while I can

look at him, driving his Jeanistmobile

again, is it any wonder Kacchan was bitching about Endeavor’s dinky little car when he was used to riding around town in style like this. anyone else staring at this panel trying to figure out how this car is somehow secretly made of jeans

NOOOOO

FUCK YOU DABI LMAO. PUTTING THESE VOICE ACTORS OUT OF A JOB ONE BY ONE

anyway so Jeanist is all “GOOD THING IT’S THE FUTURE AND WE’RE SO GOOD AT MEDICAL SCIENCE” to handwave how Hawks went from one step shy of being a very handsome corpse, to sitting around texting Jeanist in a car all of two days later

OH MY GOD, AND FINALLY AN EXPLANATION FOR THIS

wait a minute. I’m so confused lmfao. soooo, was Hawks all “anyway, here’s Jeanist’s dead body, you can examine it but please don’t look at him too closely and also I’m gonna need that back unharmed.” how tf did you pull that off lmao

(ETA: also isn’t this technically confirmation of the ol’ Noumu Jeanist theory lol. I’m gonna go ahead and say it is.)

NO BUT PLEASE, CONTINUE. I unironically love reading Horikoshi’s overly convoluted “SEE IT’S NOT A PLOT HOLE” explanations

lkldslfk so wait, you’re telling me Hawks convinced Dabi and the League to put Jeanist’s body in storage, and basically just hoped they wouldn’t use him for any experiments until he could put his plan into action and have the HPSC’s people break in and find and revive him?? WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG. A FOOLPROOF PLAN IF I’VE EVER HEARD ONE

fff this man really asked Jeanist to risk it all to prop up his little cover story, and Jeanist was all “sure why not” omfg. anyways, thanks for recapping all of this out loud for no particular reason in your car conversation you two

LMAO NOW WHAT

TROUBLE YOU SAY? GOOD THING THE NEW NUMBER ONE HERO IS ON THE JOB THEN

okay no it’s just some random thugs strolling around terrorizing the downtown. fuck ‘em. so Jeanist is making short work of them now

uh oh

won’t come? not can’t, but won’t?? what???

WOW

well I guess that makes the local heroes A BUNCH OF SHITHEADS now doesn’t it?? jesus

and okay, serious question, if the cops are spread too thin and the heroes have literally walked out on the job, what exactly is stopping everyone from deciding to use their quirks to defend themselves, legal or not? nothing, as far as I can tell. society just got a hell of a lot more chaotic

anyway so this is an interesting panel here

man, Dabi really did pull it off, didn’t he. well anyway so here’s that better world all of the villains were wanting, you guys! isn’t it so great?? everyone’s terrified and angry and losing hope and society is inches away from collapsing into total anarchy! but hey, at least we exposed the number one hero as a hypocrite

anyway so what are these guys up to

fucking hell, he’s visiting his mom. I really wasn’t prepared to commit this much emotional energy towards reading this chapter today. BUT VERY WELL, WE PRESS ON

?? wait she’s not there?

is this supposed to explain how Dabi knew who Hawks really was? except that there’s the little matter of how he even know where to find his mother in the first place. feels like we’re still missing something there, but oh well

OH MY GOD

RHA I TAKE BACK EVERY WORD I EVER SPOKE AGAINST YOU. YOU ARE A SCANLATION GROUP FILLED WITH ANGELS LMAO. I WILL TAKE THIS PANEL IN MY HANDS, AND TREASURE IT AND KEEP IT SAFE

ANYWAY, BECAUSE MY TIRED BIRD SON’S LIFE SUCKED SO MUCH ALREADY, IT TURNS OUT HE’S ACTUALLY PLEASED WITH THIS NEW TURN OF EVENTS LOL HOW ABOUT THAT

GOOD FOR YOU BBY. YOU GO OUT THERE AND BE YOUR OWN PERSON

and in all seriousness, I love that identity he chooses -- chooses, because it actually is him making a choice now, possibly for the very first time in his life -- is “guy who helps people”, though. it really is nothing short of miraculous that he held on to that kind of optimism and desire to do good even with everything he’s been through. there were so many times he could have chosen to turn his back on the world in retaliation for the way it treated him. but he didn’t!! and here he is now, finally free, and what he wants to do with the rest of his life now is simply to help others. anyway please excuse me for a moment, I need to go find some sort of basket or a big vase to put all of my fresh new Hawks Feels in, pardonne-moi

YEAH BOIIIIII

“FIRST ORDER OF BUSINESS, MISTER JEANIST, WHERE DID YOU FIND YOUSELF THAT SWEETASS CAR.” hey, all I’m saying is if this boy’s wings really aren’t growing back, he’s gonna need to find himself a new means of transportation y’know?

oh my god you guys it’s a flashback to his mom buying him the Endeavor plushie when he was like two because, and I quote, ALL MIGHT WAS TOO EXPENSIVE

oh my god oh my god. my boy out here with a new lease on life finding hope in the darkest of times

wasn’t your throat supposed to be all fucked up lmao. Horikoshi was suddenly all “oh shit the VAs are gonna be pissed at me if I keep this up huh”

“that’s why Bubaigawara was such a great guy” motherfucker IT IS A TERRIBLE DAY FOR RAIN. FORECAST SAID NOTHING ABOUT THIS

:’)

yes ma’am. yes indeed. confirmed, I really will straight up fight some motherfuckers for this child. well not really, but YOU KEEP YOUR DISCOURSE OFF MY LAWN AND OUT OF MY BLOG YOU HEAR. THIS IS A HAWKS-FRIENDLY SPACE. WE RESPECT TAKAMI KEIGO IN THESE STREETS

and he’s saying (or is he thinking?? what a weirdly shaped speech bubble this is) that even if what Dabi said about the Todoroki household is true, “I’m not sure it’s the same now.” which happens to be ABSOLUTELY CORRECT. man this whole chapter really is all about saying “fuck the past” and moving forward and I am living for it

SON!!!!

“the first step is at my beginning” fklkjlk. what an iconic fucking line??

AND HIS WINGS!!!! THEY ACTUALLY ARE GROWING BACK AHHHHHHH. “PUT A RAINCHECK ON THAT CAR, JEANIST-SAN.” THE HAWKSMOBILE CAN WAIT, RIGHT NOW HE HAS TO GO INSERT HIMSELF BACK INTO THE TODODRAMA WHETHER THEY LIKE IT OR NOT

you guys. I came here ready for some BAKUDEKU HOSPITAL ANGST, and I got DIDDLY SHIT of that, and none of my other kids were even in this chapter, but!!! ASK ME IF I CARE LMAO omg. because bird son is hanging with his new best friend, and he’s out here Finding Himself and picking up the pieces and putting them back together stronger than ever because RESILIENCE HAS A NAME, AND IT’S SPELLED H-A-W-K-S, and you guys. profound, my love for this child. holy shit. hey google, play Silence by Marshmello

#bnha 299 #takami keigo #hawks (bnha)#best jeanist #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #I found peace in your violence #can't tell me there's no point in trying #I'm at one #and I've been quiet for too long

564 notes · View notes