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asheurbanipal · 11 days

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Alone in the dark but now you've come along

Original Ao3

Summary:

Fuck. Hell. Shit. "If you're going to ask to move back in: the answer's yes. If you're going to ask me to bend over: the answer is fuck yes. But we should keep it down so we don't traumatize the youth." Logan slapped a hand across his mouth. "Yeah, just like that," Wade said, muffled. "Gotta let me turn around first." "I have a job for you, but you have to listen to me. Can you do that?" ### Things don't suddenly become easier when you save the universe. There's all this shit like...emotions...to get through. Which complicates things when Logan rejoins the X-Men if only for the amenities.

Deadpool/Wolverine

Explicit

Words: 5,716

One-shot (series incoming?)

Content: light angst, fluff, mild smut, hand and mouth stuff with male anatomy, anal sex, fighting as a metaphor for sex

No no it’s cool. It’s totally cool for you to fuck off to the X-manor. It’s your home, after all.

Wade slammed a tennis ball into the side of the building, but the thing that rolled back was an exploded piece of rubber. The last one had shattered a brick. The one a few back had gone through the plaster in the dining-living-kitchen, forcing Al to quite literally kick his ass all the way downstairs into one of the back alleys.

“Just take your sweaty, glistening tits and go be an X-Men again. It’s cool. Great. Awesome.” He went to grab another ball from the plastic bag to find it empty. “FUCK.” The profanity stopped a woman with her stupid little dog and mangy-ass baby as she passed by with a stroller, her face frozen in disgust.

“Can’t a man mangle his balls in peace?” he barked, and that prompted her to scurry off back down the sidewalk.

He leaned against the wall and dropped down until he was sat on the dirty pavement, legs splayed haphazardly. The tennis ball thing was supposed to be a healthier coping mechanism with stress that wasn't punching something in the face.

Go to therraaaapppy. You'll find some healthier outlets.

"Well, I did, Vanessa. And it's not helping. I saved the goddamn universe , and it didn't matter."

They had only been back a few days when he realized it. That whatever want he had for Vanessa was…well it's wasn't gone. It was just…just different. Now he just wanted her to be happy, and he was starting to realize that might not be with him. Not anymore. The whole disintegrating into atoms then recombobulating had put things into perspective.

But something else had changed. Maybe it was that first adamantium claw between the ribs. He touched his chest, trying to imagine it again. There was nothing quite like the first time someone was inside you, though. One of his tiny little knives flicked out from the knee pocket of his cargo khakis. He stabbed it into the top of his thigh, hissing with the sharp impact.

"Nope. Not quite." He yanked it free. He considered the tear in his pants, watching the hole in his skin close up nice and tight. Nope. It hadn't been the claws. It had been the penetration. That's where it had started. When they first dropped into the Void. When he had sunk his blade into Wolver-fucking-rine's calf, knowing full well he'd recover all fine and dandy. When Wade realized that he had met someone who could take it. He still didn't know what it was. Wade didn't have the capacity to label emotions beyond "mad" or "a little horny" or "excited" or "extremely horny."

It was the more wordless emotions that had offered Logan a couch to sleep on and a promise they'd work together to figure out what Logan's new life looked like. Then barely a month later, when things were just starting to get comfortable, when "happy" was starting to shift into "content" the bitch-ass mother fucker had to go and get offered a place back on the X-Men.

Wade stared at the tips of his sneakers, wishing he could go back to the time when there wasn't a Logan-shaped empty space in his life.

####

Logan stared up at the ceiling of his room replaying the conversation. On the phone Hank McCoy was explaining, in arduous detail, how there would always be a place for him on the X-Men if he wanted it. And that space on the team came with a room in the mansion. Despite the overflow of details, there was a hesitation.

"Hank," Logan had said, dropping onto the couch that had been doubling as his bed for a few weeks. "I'm not your Wolverine. You're not my Beast. We don't have to do this." There was a scuffle on the other side of the phone.

"Listen buttfuck." It had been that Negasonic kid. He liked her. Reminded him of Rogue and Kitty and Jubilee and fuck he never questioned the number of teen girls that seemed to hover in his shadow. How did no one ever point out how creepy that must have looked from the outside?

"Stop being a whiny little bitch-baby and rejoin the X-Men. The minute they heard you were alive in, like, a different dimension all of the old fucks have been talking about having you on the team again." A chorus of objections over "old fucks" had swelled up behind her. "So do fucking whatever, but they want you here."

He threw a tennis ball up at the ceiling, and caught it again. It didn't feel like they wanted him there. Hank told him to skip training. To take it easy after everything that happened in the Void. Hey, maybe stay behind for this one and watch the kids.

Three weeks. Three weeks in this room.

He slammed the ball toward the ceiling again in hopes of not remembering the next part.

"Hey, babygirl, who was on the phone?" Wade had emerged from the single shared bathroom, Hello Kitty towel swung low around his hips, freshly showered. His body had dropped close on the couch, hands resting brazenly on his knee.

The scent memory hit him hard. Clean and fresh with strawberries on top. He'd never met a grown man who used strawberry scented soap. It was such an impossible. Everything about Wade seemed impossible.

Mostly that any one person could talk so much while saying so little.

He threw the ball again, this time spearing it with one of his claws on the down swing.

There was so much blood on these hands. So many people dead because of these claws. But not Deadpool. Not Wade Wilson. Logan had sunk metal blades into the interstitial spaces of Wade's ribs, and he had thanked him for it. Not in words, no. His words were sharp and sardonic. It was the way his body had writhed and squirmed, how even the shape of his mask had magically gone wide-eyed in delight. Of the very real…physiological reactions…

Wade was a fucked up guy, but that sensation stuck around, clinging to the metal plating in his bones. That sense of something having changed in him.

Then he had to go and fuck it up.

Wade was too loud. Too close. Too prone to casual physical affection that Logan had no practice in, anymore. He just needed space. Space to figure out who he was, now, in this timeline. To figure out how to feel emotions again beyond "mad" and "angry" and "seething with rage" and "drunk."

"They invited me to rejoin the X-Men," he had told Wade, avoiding looking at him head on. Wade was an idiot, but he wasn't stupid. There wasn't a reason to drag this out. "And it comes with my own room in the house. And with an apartment this size, you don't need me taking up space."

Wade's hands had gone tight on his thigh, that Deadpool strength coming through.

"Peanut butter jelly time, if it's just about the sleeping arrangements, that's nothing a little trip to IKEA--"

"Look." Logan hadn't actually wanted to yell. To get sharp and cold. But he had seen what was coming, and he couldn't do it. Not again. Not after what they'd been through to get to this point.

"I like you, Wade." He let his fingers gently touch the back of Wade's neck. It was probably a bad idea. It would probably make all this worse. "I would like to keep liking you. And the Void was a pretty good indicator that when we're pent up together, we get a little rabid." The memory of the all-leather interior of a sensible family vehicle scraped at his palms.

Wade had drifted, mouthing something into space to an audience only he could see. Logan had touched his cheek, and he snapped back.

"Whatever you say, sugar tits!" But his fingernails had been digging deeper and deeper into Logan's knee. He released his hands and stood. "But I was going to convince Al to implement full-frontal Tuesdays." He started backing up, twitching his towel in the sway of a mock high kick. "You're going to be missing out on all this." Then he had skittered into the bedroom, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the walls and piss off the neighbors.

Logan was gone by the next morning.

Logan stared down at the tennis ball still stuck on his claw.

"Fuck. It's too quiet."

"Logan." Hank rapped on his bedroom door. He jumped from the bed as though that would hide he was sulking. What was left of the ball flopped to the floor as he returned his claws to his hands.

"Yeah, it's open. What do you need?" But he met Hank as the door was opening, his blue furry face set with grim determination.

"We've got something we need you for."

#####

Oh okay just walk in you like you own the place you sexy sonofa- "Hi, Yukio."

"Hi, Wade!"

They touched their fingertips together, then palms, then hips bumping, then a series of complex movements that Wade knew he would guard with his life .

"When did you even have time to come up with a secret handshake with my girlfriend?" Negasonic did that adorable little eyeroll that made him want to simultaneously punch her in the face and hug her until she died from asphyxiation. Either way....

"Shshsh. A magician never reveals his secrets." She punched him in the shoulder as she passed through into the apartment, beelining for the kitchen-dining-living room table to start picking over the monthly taco night spread. Behind them, though, was Logan, and Wade couldn't pull away. His eyes followed him as he sauntered in through the door, hips swaying, arms crossing over his wide chest.

Shit. Fuck. Cock. Profanities in a thousand different languages he didn't know.

"Hey, bub." Logan's voice was rumbly and low, sitting in his chest.

"You were supposed to come back and visit, Wolvie," Wade found himself whining. "But I guess you've been too busy. With your X-Men." He threw a few fake punches into Logan's abs. Logan caught his hands, holding them against his chest for a half a moment before dropping them. He closed the door behind him, then signaled to the dark of the hallway.

"Come over here a minute." He grabbed Wade around the wrist and hauled him around, shoving him into the slight curve leading into the bedroom and backing him up against the wall. His forearms made a V-shape in the span of the hallway, forcing their bodies together.

Fuck. Hell. Shit.

"If you're going to ask to move back in: the answer's yes. If you're going to ask me to bend over: the answer is fuck yes. But we should keep it down so we don't traumatize the youth."

Logan slapped a hand across his mouth.

"Yeah, just like that," Wade said, muffled. "Gotta let me turn around first, though."

"I have a job for you, but you have to listen to me. Can you do that?"

Wade nodded, but Logan didn't trust him enough to actually release his mouth. Good call, honestly.

"They've got scans of some weird subterranean base upstate."

"Underground?" Wade asked, trying to lick Logan's hand in the process. Dirt and metal. Logan didn't budge.

"Yes, underground. Shut up. They don't know who it is. Could be an old Hydra unit cropping up-"

"How very Phase one."

"-could be a new Brotherhood of Mutants-"

"Holy continuity, Batman."

"-point being they want to send someone in." Logan pressed a little harder on Wade's mouth before realizing it wasn't working and dropping it.

"So a stealth mission? Can't say I'm usually the choice for the strong and silent type."

"No," Logan sighed. But his heart wasn't in it. There was a little grin there, right on the edge of his mouth. "They have giant robots. They haven't figured out how to sneak past them, so they want to distract them. But that means taking some hits. A lot of hits. The kind of hits only a guy like me can take and survive. Or a guy like you."

Oh? Oh. Oohohohohohhooho.

Wade felt his body heat rising in excitement.

"I could really use a second set of hands," Logan continued. "Are you interested?"

Yes. Fuck. Yes yes yes yes.

"So you're saying we go in and just…fight giant robots with the expectation we will be getting our asses handed to us."

"Yeah, basically."

"Hm. Okay let me think about-yes. Yes, absolutely one hundred percent."

"Okay. Good." Logan nodded. For the tiniest fraction of a second, it looked like he was going to say something else. Instead, he lingered his gaze in Wade's for a moment, tapped the walls, then moved out of the hallway. "Oh. Hello, Vanessa."

As he moved, the rest of the room reappeared, and in the middle of it was Vanessa.

"Hi," Wade squeaked out. She moved closer, also standing in the frame of the hallway but so so tiny in comparison.

"I let myself in," she said quietly, glancing over her shoulder as Logan retreated across the room. She turned back.

"Good," she said. "Good for you. I think…yeah…I think he's good for you."

And for the first time in his whole goddamn life he had no idea what to fucking say to that.

#####

Next to him on the mini-jet, Wade was literally vibrating, knees bouncing up to his chest. Logan dropped a hand to his knee, forcing it to stop. He squeezed, pulling out a tiny squeak from Wade's throat.

"Do I need to run the details with you again?" he asked. Wade hadn't stopped talking, chattering about just…anything and everything. Any little thought that slid through his head. And it felt…good. It felt good to not have to think about the fight coming up in front of them. He could just listen to the sound of Wade's voice and think about literally anything else. But now he needed to focus. Made sure they were both focused.

"Nope!" Wade gave him thumbs up, mask eyes squinting into a smile.

"Are you sure? Because I would be real fucking pissed if you somehow managed to get yourself killed, bub."

"Girlypop." He dropped his hand on Logan's shoulder. "My little meow meow. We're good. I've got this. I trust you to keep this beautiful ass intact. And I'm certainly not letting anything happen to these sweet things." He groped Logan's chest, squeezing his pecs. He mumbled something else, dipping his head to an invisible conversation partner over his shoulder, but Logan didn't catch it. He never did.

Logan flexed his hands a few times, forming a fist out of the one on Wade's knee.

"I'm serious, Wade. I watched you almost die once, and it…" Logan paused and Wade, thank God, actually let him think through his words without filling the silence. "It really fucking sucked."

"Ooooh, what a way with words. A real Chris Claremont." Wade's taunting never came to its full potential power, though. He rolled his hands up to Logan's shoulders again. "It was an honor to die with you once. If it looks like I'm about to check out for real, I'll mercy kill you so you don't have to live in a world without me. One right between the eyes. You won't even see it coming."

"You're such a fucking idiot," Logan laughed darkly.

"Oh, you love me," Wade clucked through the mask.

"Maybe I do," Logan said, and he felt his body pause, choking on the thought.

"Wait, wha-" but Wade never got through the thought either before something huge and fiery had hit the plane. Logan's hand tightened on Wade's thigh. They were going down, the mission starting before they expected.

"It's time," Wolverine muttered, letting his claws free.

"Let's. Fucking. Go." Deadpool replied next to him.

Watching Deadpool fight, when he could, out of the corner of his eye, was like ballet. Bloody, but beautiful. His body was huge, but it moved through the air, bounced off hard bodies, at soft angles, flipping and slipping like it didn't obey gravity. He felt so clunky, in comparison. No grace. No fluidity.

But of course the chatter. God the chatter. At some point it turned to music, a soundtrack to slash and break to.

And when they paused for half a moment, Deadpool's back to him, the heat blushed over their bodies in tandem, sweat and panting breath caught in the same flow of energy. Deadpool turned his head to drop his chin on Wolverine's shoulder.

"How much longer until extraction?" he gasped. These assholes didn't go down easily, self-repairing the instant they cut their main servos. This was only a breather, one of the sentinels already picking itself up to charge back across the grass.

"You running out of stamina?" Wolverine panted back.

"Not a chance, old man." Deadpool rolled his head back against his. "Forgot to set the DVR for Golden Girls is all."

"Need to get you a smart TV with streaming," Wolverine said, running up to meet the now approaching robot.

#####

"Was that a quip!? " Deadpool shouted to his retreating back. But oh…there he went. The way those claws just SNIKT then KRRRPTACK right through the metal chassis of the nearest bot.

It was so SEXY.

Another bot had put itself together enough to crawl across the grass at him. A single POW , and it went down without a fight. In the meantime, Wolverine had squared up with the next machine, muscles rippling and shaking and bulging with effort.

Not NOW, boner.

The X-Men's stupid fucking jet came in low just in time, actually starting to reach the end of his rope. He had somehow managed to get away without losing any limbs, but it was getting close. They both leaped heroically through the open gangplank door, landing flat on their faces as the ramps lifted up underneath them. A few other members of the X-Men were somewhere forward in the jet, but the only thing Wade could focus on was Logan's sweating, heaving body next to him. He rolled a little closer.

"Great job, cum shot." Then he slapped Logan's ass. Loud. It echoed. Logan lifted onto his elbows.

"Bub, don't slap my ass without consent when I'm in fight-mode. I might stab you on reflex."

"You promise?"

Logan chuckled. Then it was a laugh, rippling and echoing and dark and real .

"One minute of silence, then you get to talk again, okay?" He threw his arm over Wade's shoulders. He was fucking heavy . All that fucking metal on his bones. Wade made a zipping motion over his lips as best he could laying down. He would grant him that.

#####

"Wade…did you undress me?" Logan asked sleepily, the sunlight pouring in through the window.

"Thank you, Wade, for not letting me sleep in my grody-ass suit. You're so thoughtful." Wade was sitting in one of Logan's robes next to him on the bed, ankles crossed as he read a magazine.

It hadn't really been a question, when they dropped the jet through the basketball court, that Wade would just sleep over that night at the manor. While there were most certainly spare rooms in the adult wings, their bodies, hanging off each other in a post-adrenaline haze, had worked on instinct. And instinct said to pull their bodies close together and fall into bed.

Wade must not have fallen asleep as quickly as Logan had. He hadn't even dreamed.

At least he was still in his briefs. He wouldn't have put it past Wade to strip him totally naked.

"Oh, I considered taking off the underoos, too, but I thought I'd leave you a little dignity," Wade said with a quick clip. "Though I won't deny I might have considered taking a quick peek down under. But, you know…consent."

"'Preciate it," Logan murmured. He shuffled across the bed, his body feeling the after-effects of such an extended fight. The healing factor couldn't fix everything immediately, and the stiffness was one of them. He dropped an arm across Wade's lap and pulled his face up close to his body. "Did you shower?"

"Yeah. And that is…holy shit. I don't blame you for moving out if that's the bathroom situation."

"It's not the same."

"What was that?"

Logan growled.

"It's not the same. You don't smell the same as when you shower at home."

"Well, unless you've got some Korean skin care sitting around, there's not much I can do about that." Wade dropped his hand to move it through Logan's hair, forming it into twisting and curling shapes. He could have laid there forever, but the sticky post-evaporated sweat was creeping over him. He needed to shower. He needed to shower then have a semi-serious conversation with Wade.

"You said you loved me on the jet," Wade said quietly.

Or they were doing this out of order.

"I need to shower," Logan replied, moving onto his elbows then knees to roll out of bed.

"That's not a very romantic response," Wade pouted.

"No, I know. But I can't have this conversation, yet. So you don't leave. In fact." And he had no idea what he was thinking but he picked up a nightstand and moved it in front of the door.

"I can just…I can move that, too."

"It's fucking symbolic," he growled as he disappeared into the bathroom.

#####

He's lost his goddamn mind.

Good?

Wade shuffled to the edge of the bed, sitting on the corner. He had only barely slept, waking up in the middle of the night with the stark awareness of Logan's body wrapped around his. He had laid there like that for a very very very very long time, listening to Logan's breathing. It had shuddered a few times in the night. At one point he had started rabbit kicking, deep in a dream. At the end, he had pulled Wade in tighter.

It was only when Logan let him go ever so slightly at dawn that Wade had wriggled out, undressed him, showered, then found a robe to dress himself in. The instant he crawled back into bed, Logan had wrapped his big beefy arms around him again.

He had only rolled over for maybe ten minutes when woke up.

I'll be saving that information for when I need to blackmail him.

He dropped his fingers to the tie of the robe and let it fall open, exposing his naked body underneath. When Logan came out of that shower, he was going to either be repulsed or overcome with lust. Either way, Wade needed to punish him for moving out without permission.

#####

Logan rested his head against the closed bathroom door, showered, towel around his waist.

"I think I'm falling in love with you," he whispered to himself a few times. "And I don't actually want to be apart from you. But I'm also worried about us living on top of each other. No…no he's going to turn that into a sex joke. Fuck this beautiful man and his mouth. Shit I want to fuck his mouth. Fuck." He pounded on the door. "Calm down."

"Sugar bear?" Wade was still there, at least, and on the bed. That gave him about six feet of breathing space.

"Wade," he said, opening the door. Then he drew up short. Wade was naked, sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back, legs casually hanging off.

"That's not fair," Logan said quietly.

"Oh what you can't have a serious conversation when I'm in--" he crossed one leg over the other "--the buff."

"Yes," Logan replied.

"Why? Are you overcome with luuuuust?"

"Yes."

"Well, then…wait, really?"

But Logan was at the edge of the bed, pushing Wade down at the shoulders, his own towel dropping to reveal he was hard as a rock. It wasn't just his dick, though, it was everything. Every part of his body was full of tension. He slammed a hand over Wade's mouth preemptively.

"I'm gonna fuck you. And you can be as loud and chatty as you want the whole time. But then you're going to let me talk to you about something. Okay, bub?" Wade nodded under his hand, and he let him free.

"I'm gonna suck your cock first, then we'll negotiate." Then Logan was reminded just how strong Wade actually was as he pushed him over on his back, aiming them right on a pile of pillows. He slid down, and with a hiss and a slither, his mouth went quick over Logan's dick, taking him all the way down to the hilt.

#####

Wolverine's cock is in my mouth. Shit fuck shit fuck shit fuck fuck.

I'm in love with Wolverine, and his cock is in my mouth.

I'm in love with Logan. And I'm sucking his cock. And he's getting harder and harder and harder fuuuuck.

Logan's hands slid around the side of his head, thumbs brushing his ears, fingers caressing the nape of his neck, purposefully touching on each of the bumps and scars, tracing them. Memorizing? What a freak.

He slipped his fingers down until they were cupping the underside of Logan's balls, and he rolled them back and forth as he worked the shaft. He licked a stripe up the underside, then folded back down again, sucking and nipping at the head of Logan's cock. It had been awhile since he'd been up close and personal with this specific style of anatomy, but it was like fucking a bicycle.

Logan let out a groan, signaling Wade was right on track. His hands went tighter around the back of Wade's head and pushed him down, fucking up into his mouth with hard thrusts.

"Wade," Logan growled.

"Yes, daddy?" Wade replied through a full mouth. But he just repeated Wade's name over and over again softly, like a prayer. He hadn't even touched himself, and he was ready to come just with that. Wade scraped his teeth over Logan's cock, and hollowed out his cheeks to increase the pressure.

"Wade," he hissed again, pumping up harder and harder into Wade's throat. He came like an explosion, filling up Wade's mouth all the way to the back of his teeth.

But he kept going. He couldn't stop. He needed Logan to get hard again as fast as possible. And if their healing factors were anything alike, this would do it.

I need him inside me.

#####

"Wade." Logan pried Wade's head from his crotch and hauled him up by the shoulders. His fingers pressed around Wade's jaw and aligned their faces. "Slow down. We have time."

Wade panted, resting his forehead against Logan's, sticky semen glazing his lips. He leaned forward and pecked the corner of Wade's lips. He breathed it low to himself slow down we have time. He gently captured Wade's mouth, tasting himself along the sides of his tongue and the tops of his teeth. Wade responded in kind but with a more frantic pace, pushing into Logan's mouth, trying to eat him from the inside out, it felt like.

His hands dug into Logan's hair, curving through the curls, gripping tight, trying to pull their bodies even closer as he climbed into Logan's lap. Logan drifted his hand down around Wade's dick, and he responded with a whimper into Logan's mouth. Logan stroked Wade, thumb circling the tip in gentle whirls, languidly pumping through the entirety of his length.

Wade was the one who started growling now, his teeth gnashing like an animal. His hands drifted down Logan's neck, over his spine, finally digging into Logan's back. Logan arched against the feeling, pressing their chests together.

"You said you were gonna fuck me," Wade complained into his neck. Logan squeezed his ass in response.

"Working on it." His dick was certainly almost ready again, erections starting to bob against each other. "Bottom drawer, on the right side, ornate black box, lube and condoms."

"You just keep that around? You dirty dog." Wade went diving for it, though, hanging upside off the bed to find it.

"Easier to stock all the adult rooms with…accouterments…"

"How progressive and sex positive." Wade pulled himself back up. He fumbled with the bottle, worried nerves affecting the grip in his hands.

"Give it." He pulled it softly from Wade's hands. A dollop dropped into his palm, and he warmed it with his other hand over the top. He nuzzled Wade's neck, raking his teeth over Wade's skin as he reached around for his entrance. He slipped down, circled, then curled one finger inside. Wade keened, high-pitched and whimpering, biting his bottom lip as he pressed his face into Logan's shoulder.

"Does it hurt? Do you want me to slow down?" Logan murmured into Wade's ear.

"If you don't keep going, right now, I will baby knife you in the kidney." Wade sunk his teeth into Logan's shoulder to punctuate his point.

Logan responded by rolling Wade onto his back, half slamming him into the mattress. A second finger, then a third, he could feel Wade opening for him like a warm welcome. He pressed Wade's knees to his chest, then positioned the tip of his cock at Wade's entrance. Wade arched his back as Logan sunk into him.

#####

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckf cufkc ufkc fuck fuck fcufk cuf fuck fukc ufkfkuflkc fuck fuck.

Logan's hand was stroking his cock lightly. Just the tiniest touch. While he moved in and out in an even rhythm. Long, slow, maddening strokes.

"Put a baby in me," Wade gasped. Logan dropped lower, almost flat against Wade's body. Wade kicked his ankles up and locked them around the small of Logan's back. "Right in the cervix I don't have." He murmured.

"I'm regretting giving you permission to say whatever you want."

"You love it."

"I do." Logan smiled against Wade's mouth, turning it into a deep kiss.

There that was again.

#####

Logan pounded into Wade, picking up speed as he hinged on his knees. He had all these words locked inside, praises and poems, things he wanted to lavish over Wade's body.

"This feels so good," was all he could find, growling deep next to Wade's ear. Wade responded with a choked noise and a weird laugh.

"I don't…" Wade started. "Fuck-knuckles I have nothing, babe. I'm tapped out of witty banter."

Logan pushed into him harder.

"If I'd know this is what it took, I'd have fucked you in that minivan." Logan nibbled along Wade's jaw.

"Oh a pity fuck wouldn't have worked. I need deep sensuous, love-making for this kind of mind wipe." He rolled his hips up to take Logan in even deeper.

"I can do deep," Logan said, and proved it with another thrust.

#####

Fuck shit fuck. Cock. So close. He needs to touch…fuck….

#####

The orgasm came dry and quick this time, but it shuddered out of his body with shaking muscles and tense ligaments. He leaned back, still inside, and watched as Wade squirmed below him, still reaching for the top. He took Wade's dick in his hand and began to stroke.

#####

Fuck.

Fire. Burning my brain.

Lights popping behind my eyes.

Spinning, turning, careening, every part of my body is on fire.

Logan.

…Logan…

Logan Logan Logan Logan

Wade's whole body squeezed in climax as Logan stroked him to completion, pulling every dark thing out of his body through his cock. He collapsed back on the bed.

#####

Logan pulled out slowly, grabbed Wade around the waist, and dragged his limp body to lay on top of him. Wade nuzzled into his neck.

"I need to tell you something, darling," Logan murmured. His fingers ran up and down Wade's back, tracing the ridge of his spine.

"I love you," Wade said. "Maybe." He clarified.

"Okay maybe we don't, actually…"

"No, you get about twenty minutes of post-nut clarity out of me," Wade objected, lifting onto his elbows. "And I'm maybe falling in love with you. That's what you keep wanting to say to me, but you're too chicken shit to do it. So I'm saying it first." He dropped back down in a huff. "And I'm only saying 'maybe'--" He lifted his head again "--because I'm not sure if I can say definitely, yet. The last 'definitely' didn't work out in the end, so I'm working on it." He dropped down.

"That's all the emotional intelligence you get from me for the rest of the year," Wade mumbled into Logan's shoulder.

Logan kept to his ministration of Wade's spine, soft touches with no pressure behind them.

"Yeah. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. That maybe I'm falling in love with you, too." He fell silent, wondering what Wade would do in the gap. Nothing. He was waiting for more. "That's why I left. I didn't know the guy who was falling for you. I thought if I was in the X-Men again, I'd figure out who that person was. Then everything would just be…cleaner.

"But it didn't work. I'm not their Logan. I'm your Logan." He sighed. "So now I'm not sure what to do."

"Well, I'm not anybody's specific dedicated Wade, so you can have that one." Wade sat up, propping up on his wrist to look around the room. "And you need to keep these digs. Because if you're gonna keep blowing my back out, this is way nicer."

"They don't usually…encourage…overnight guests to an excessive degree."

"Then I'll become an X-Men. Duh. Easy…wait…am I a mutant in this version? I keep forgetting. But I mean…close enough right? Or we just get married. They can't kick me out if I'm your wife."

"We should probably get past the 'maybe' part of I love you, first, darling."

"Ugh fine, whatever." Wade flopped back down. "Wake me when it's breakfast time, honey badger." Then he didn't fall asleep, but he fell quiet, the gears turning silently. And Logan laid there with him, in the silence, trying to figure out what kind of man to be for him.

#####

My Logan My Logan My Logan My Logan…

#deadpool x wolverine #poolverine #deadclaws #fanfiction #smut #deadpool #wolverine

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hailsatanacab · 2 years

Note

DPxTheOffice

"He's gonna sell it all 'cause he's Danny Phantom"

that's so fucking funny, i hate how much i love this!! i have made it way too long, rip to my five sentence rule - there's such a goldmine of content here lmao

👻

"I'd say it's been going on for... about a month now?"

"Two months," Sam interrupts. "It started just after your parents came in, remember?"

"Oh, Ancients, yeah, them. I can't believe I forgot that."

"Yeah, dude, it's thanks to them that this all started!" Tucker's practically vibrating in his chair, far too cheerful about the whole thing.

"Yeah," Danny sighs, looking directly into the camera. "Thank you, Mom and Dad. Thank you very much."

"Danny's parents are ghost hunters, which, as you can imagine, got Michael very excited. And very into ghosts. He accused Meredith of haunting him the other day, now he keeps spraying her with holy water and yelling 'Begone, foul spectre!' He's really taken a liking to Danny's parents."

"Can't imagine why."

"Yeah, and then—then—" Tucker dissolves into laughter, wheezing as he tries to catch his breath. "Then he brings in that personal trainer! In her yoga pants and crop top, with a pilates ball and everything! Sends her over to—to see Meredith, and then—oh Ancients—then when the woman leaves and Meredith is still there, he locks himself in his office and blasts the Lord's Prayer!"

"We think he mispelt exorcist. Hired someone in exercise instead."

"Exorcists are all phoney, anyway! And PTs are only slightly less phoney, so make sure you do your research and get someone that actually knows what they're doing before you commit, kids." Danny says, pointing down the camera. "That's how I got so jacked."

Both Sam and Tucker share a look before bursting into even more laughter. With a soft smack on his arm, Sam can't help but tease, "Please, you're 5'4" and look like you'd break your arm if you ever picked up a ream of paper. No wonder your sales are so low."

"Wow, that's so rude. I can't believe you'd do me like that. I'm 5'4 and a half, thank you."

"That's right, babe, and we love you for it."

Their laughter peters out and the trio slowly pull themselves upright in their chairs, remembering the cameras and the story they're meant to be telling.

"Honestly, thanks to these guys, the past few weeks have been a nightmare."

"Now who's being rude? At least this is one of those fun nightmares that you can laugh about later."

"Nope, this is a normal nightmare that everytime you think you've woken up from, you get back to work and see your boss dressed up in a hazmat suit that your parents sent him and realise that actually, maybe the real nightmare was the work colleagues you made along the way."

"Oh. Yeah, that sounds about right, sorry, Danny."

Tucker puts him on the shoulder and stays silent for a grand total of five seconds before turning back to the camera with an ecstatic grin on his face and a deep breath.

"Anyway, everytime one of us goes into Michael's office, we sneak something off his desk and blame ghosts. Sam's hidden some speakers in the ceiling that play recordings of her crying on a timer."

"I should have been an actor. I also got some of the warehouse guys in on it, so everytime Michael goes down there they'll throw a box or two around and make some ghostly moans. Didn't even ask why, they just agreed."

Sam's back to looking very proud of herself. Danny's back to cradling his head in his hands.

"Is that why Boxy's been about lately? Guys, seriously? I need to sleep!"

The only answer he gets is a shrug as Tucker turns back to the camera.

"Oh, and I've also installed a script on his computer so that whenever he types the word 'ghosts'—or 'goats', again, he's not really great at typing—his screen starts getting all staticky and closes down. He shrieks everytime, it's so funny!"

"I wonder if he'll go with a different PT to exercise his office next?"

"We should suggest P90X—your office ghost free in three months or your money back!"

Sam and Tucker are both burst into laughter, sinking deeper into their chairs as Danny just shakes his head. It takes a solid minute for the two to calm down, and more than one pointed question from the producer to get them back on track.

"Where's it going? Does it really have to go anywhere? Can't the joy of the bit be destination enough?"

"I wish it would go away," Danny groans, still not lifting his head. "I get enough of ghost hunting in my free time, I don't need it here, too."

"I've changed Danny's employee file to list him as deceased just to see how long it takes Michael to notice."

"Seriously? Tucker, really? That's—"

"Genius, Tuck. And then we can be all: 'Michael, what are you on about? Danny's been dead for three years!' I can't wait to see his face!"

"You guys know that Dwight's going to actually try to end me if he finds out, right? Pretty sure Dad slipped him a Fenton blaster before he left."

"You know what they say," Tucker says, grinning directly down the camera, "'Gaslight, Ghost them, Get pranked, boss!'"

#danny phantom #danny phantom crossover #dpxthe office #fuck you andy #this was so funny #was going to go with the classic stapler in the jello prank #and just keep it small #but what can i say the spirit of pranking just overtook me and i became a vessel in this dumb little ficlet #thank you for the suggestion!! it was very fun ^^#i knew i wouldn't be sticking to five sentences but like damn. i didn't even try #didn't even get close with this one smh #this is mainly just dialogue and i don't apologise for that. love dialogue

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dreamwritesimagines · 10 days

Note

bucky opened up 🥹 he actually said itttttt, I thought the "I'll make sure you get that crown" was the closest we'd get to a confession at least for now but he actually said it 😭😭 now they both know omgggg I wonder what they're gonna do with this information and if they're gonna fuck it up somehow :)))

also Rhett may be a problem but damn someone really needed to put Ian in his place like that AGES ago, it's one thing knowing your cousin and all "her friends" don't respect you, but for someone from the outside so to speak to come over, take a look at you, deem you laughable, and say it to your face so bluntly, that must have stung in a different way omggg 💀 also in this context why would you say to someone "you need to respect me" literally that sounds so pathetic and childish Ian has absolutely no idea what he's doing! in this context respect is EARNED! you can't just tell someone to respect you that just makes you look so stupid omg he's so annoying

also my love what do you mean Logan called Sunshine princess 😭😭 and I love her so much, she goes "isn't this fun? we're explorers!" while stressed out of her mind and having a terrible morning, ugh she's so cute and she's the best mom ever I literally got a little bit emotional over it bc that's just how many young mothers are really 🥹 always trying to keep things positive for their kids, I think you're capturing that perfectly!

she's so cute she shows gratitude by hugging 😭😭 idk how Logan is gonna keep it together honestly she's so cute and funny, but also poor woman she's horny af I bet she loves sabrina carpenter 💀 and I'm 100% with her ok I deserve jail time for the thoughts that came to my mind when he said "are you always this polite princess" ???????? like sir imma need you to tone it down or you'll get me arrested ugh he's so flirtyyyyy he called her pretty and why do I feel like maybe his love language is acts of service???? like every grumpy man in the world?????

anyways love THANK YOU for the improvement on my weekend and my Monday, you're really giving us the best content anyone could ask for!!!! 🩷🩷🩷

OMG OMG LOVEEEE, YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY AMAZING! ❤️

Bucky totally said it! ❤️ And he was so so sure that Charm would turn him down, or reject him like he rejected her 😏

Oh Rhett was sooo so right to say it to Ian's face! 😂 Like, Charm and Bucky and all others, they were being kinda soft on him without even realizing purely because of Charm's father, and Rhett did not hold back😈 Chicago rules are different and he does not care whether the person's feelings are hurt at all😏

Respect is definitely earned in that business! ❤️ Like, Rhett earned it, Bucky earned it, Charm is definitely earning it, and Ian just expects people to respect him because of his uncle 😂 And Rhett was like "Nope" 😏

Aaaaaa it's so wonderful to hear that honey! Yesss I think Theo's health, both mentally and physically is the priority for Sunshine, and she is being very careful to make sure he grows up in a very loving and peaceful environment even if her own environment isn't exactly peaceful ❤️ So even if she's stressed out, she will make it look like a game to Theo and keep things totally positive ❤️

Lolll oh Logan is trying to keep it together but between her hugging him, and him sniffing her hair, and her being all cute and rambling with him, he is finding it very hard 😂

Sunshine sooo listens to Sabrina Carpenter ASDFGHJKL I LOVE IT😂

He called her princess! 🥰 He will do that a looooot😏

I totally agree with you on acts of service! ❤️ And Sunshine will be so clueless about it, while Logan is like, fixing everything around her and making sure she's safe and it will be so cuuuute! ❤️

Aaaaaaaa I'm so giggly honeyyyy, thank you so so much! 🥰 You are so sweeeeet! ❤️

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whatsjenniupto · 1 year

Text

Fourth Time's the Charm

March 2020: "Have you booked your flights for this summer yet?" No, I'm still deciding how much of Portugal I can justifiably see this summer. Two days later. You know.

Summer 2021: The Czech border wasn't open until after we canceled the summer program in Plzen. No Europe trip for me.

May 2022: I'm doing it! I'm going to Portugal. Two days later, can you teach high school for a year? Portugal.

Summer 2023: I'm going to Portugal. I need to recover from teaching high school. No one talk to me about anything else. I'm not listening. I'm going to Portugal.

First up, Lisbon. Which was lovely. Beautiful architecture. Beautiful azulejos.

Great public transportation -- even if I had to keep paying 50 cents for new navegante cards when I didn't feel I should have to based on my research, but whatever.

But...that's all I got. No epic stories. No huge memorable moments. It was...fine. The closest tale I have is when I decided to go from the Cemitério de Prazeres to the Aqueduto das Águas Livres. Let's sum this up with the fact that GoogleMaps should really come with a sketch factor for their walking trips.

After wandering around the Cemitério de Prazeres, I loaded my directions to the aqueduct. I knew that there was some sort of switchback hill involved, but this is Portugal. Everything has some sort of switchback hill involved. I looped around the outside wall of the cemetery, crossed the street, and started down the hill -- immediately thinking if someone jumps out of one of these trash covered bush piles, I am -- nope, don't go there. It's fine. This is fine. We're fine. Totally fine.

I looped back and forth down the hill, each turn a little more covered in trash than the last, cut between two tennis courts breathing a sigh of relief that there seemed to be a group planting a garden to my left, cut through a row of apartments, and located the bus stop. There was a woman standing there and I let out a sigh of relief. Ok, not as sketchy as I thought. Just covered in trash. Alright, 10min until the bus. We're good.

Toothless woman comes up asking for a cigarette. Three people walk by in dirty pajamas. A vast number play chicken across the six lane road to avoid using the flyover. ...Or maybe this place is about as sketchy as I thought. But the bus came, I made it to the aqueduct without issue, and the following day, I would be right back at this same bus stop transferring to a different bus on my way down to Belem. Not a location on most tourist's itinerary, but apparently a very convenient one for me.

Two highlights from Lisbon:

Americanos from Copenhagen Coffee Lab: it was beautifully cool in the mornings, so a hot americano was perfect to start the day.

Torre da Igreja do Castelo de São Jorge: I decided to climb a church tower that was not a part of the main tourist drag and discovered it came with a free glass of wine. Lemme get this straight, I don't have to stand in line and you're going to give me wine as a reward for climbing stairs?

And a lowlight:

Carmo Convent: Negative 1 - I had to stand in line under the hot Lisbon sun and burn my shoulders. Negative 2 - half of it is under construction currently making taking any cool pictures a gigantic skills test. Negative 3 - I had to pay five euros to be epically disappointed. Positive: This was the one and only line I stood in during my two week trip. Primarily because I tried to avoid anything that came with an entrance fee after this or booked a ticket online in advance.

Originally, I had planned on seeing more in Lisbon on my way from Sintra to Óbidos...but I didn't. I opted to stay in my guesthouse in Sintra, lounging in yoga pants and catching up on Masterchef Australia instead.

Do I feel my time in Lisbon was bad? No, not at all.

Did I eat amazing pasteis de nata? Of course. I even found a gluten free version. It was delicious.

Did I ride the iconic trams? Of course. Guess what -- they're a tram. Do they look cool in photos? Of course. Did I pester my waitress for an hour about when the tram was coming up the line I was eating next to so I could get the perfect shot of my partner and do test shots of her on four different chairs before settling on the best angle? NO. (Seriously, like the waitress has any control of a tram coming by. And FYI, I would prefer not to photobomb your lunacy. Please keep me out of your shot. I'm eating here.)

Lisbon was fine. Just fine.

#europe #portugal #lisbon

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dorefasolsido · 9 months

Text

37. This past year...

who were your favorite singers, musicians, or bands?

BTS, counting all of their solo releases and projects.

what were some of your favorite foods?

Sushi, always. I also tried Korean for the first time and loved it!

what was your favorite dessert?

Chocolate souffle from my favorite sushi restaurant.

what was the best thing that happened to you?

I got a better job, got two little nieces from my cousins, got into book translating which was always my dream.

what was the worst thing that happened to you?

I mean, nothing particular comes to mind, I think I was just generally having a hard time because existential crisis and anxiety about the future and possibly a sprinkle of depression.

how have you grown as a person?

I don't feel like I've grown that much, but I feel like I managed to care a little less about what other people think.

what have you learned?

That I can get a job even with an interview. I've always despised interviews and avoided jobs that required them (lots of freelance work doesn't), but this year I kind of had to do it, and even though it was awkward as hell, it worked out somehow.

how old did you turn?

28. Ew.

what did you do for your birthday?

I was feeling especially horrible for my birthday, so I didn't really do anything. My friend was moving to Germany around that time, so she had a farewell party on my birthday and I went to that instead of celebrating.

what did you accomplish?

New job, translated a book.

where did you live?

Same place I've lived for the past 9 years.

who was your best friend?

Sam, as always.

This past year, have you….

made a new friend?

Nope. I met a few people though.

lost a friend?

Not quite, but sometimes it feels like that might inevitably come.

made a new best friend?

Nope.

lost someone close to you?

Nope.

attended a funeral?

Nope.

attended a wedding?

Nope.

gave birth to a child? 🤰

Nope.

“came out of the closet”?

Well, to myself, you could say.

traveled?

Yes, Germany, Belgium, Rome and Transylvania.

felt depressed? 😔

Yes.

felt happy? 😃

Yes.

felt at peace? 😊

I think I did a few times, though most of the year was riddled with anxiety.

felt overjoyed? 💃

Yes, and I remember the specific moment. A rare moment this year when I thought to myself that life is totally worth it.

felt blessed? 😇

Probably, here and there.

felt amazed? 🤩

For sure, when I was travelling.

fallen in love? 😍

Nope.

had your heart broken? 💔

Nope.

got a new car? 🚗

Yes! Well, not new, but my parents finally gave me and my sister their old car and got a different one.

graduated? 👩‍🎓

Nope.

experienced something miraculous? ✨

I doubt it.

had a better year than last year?

No, 2022 was definitely better.

had a worse year than last year?

Yup.

been to see the doctor? 👨‍⚕️

Actually no.

been to the hospital? 🏥

Nope.

had a severe allergic reaction? 🤧

Nope.

had COVID? 🦠

Nope, as far as I'm aware at least.

found out someone you knew had COVID? 🦠

Yeah, my dad did for a week in September. And probably a few other people too, but honestly, it's not that big of a deal anymore.

used an epi pen? 💉

Nope.

had a fever? 🥵

Nope.

had a migraine? 🧠

Nope.

gone on a date? 🌹

Nope.

written in a journal or diary? 📔

Well, I'm working on this survey blog a bit more seriously now.

given someone a hug? 🤗

Yup.

cut your hair? 💇‍♀️

Yess, I cut off most of it, now it's shortish. So much easier to deal with.

danced around your living room? 💃

Yes, ahhh I love dancing.

prayed? 🙏

Nope.

worshiped Jesus?

Nope.

read the Bible? 📖

Nope.

discovered a new favorite book? 📕

Tbh, I don't know if I read Convenience Store Woman at the beginning of this year or the end of last. So I'll say maybe.

gone to church? ⛪️

Nope.

went for a walk in the fall? 🍁

Yup.

set up and decorated a Christmas tree? 🎄

I haven't, but my mum has.

threw up? 🤮

Thank God no. Last year was traumatic enough. And by that I mean I threw up once and almost had a panic attack.

almost threw up? 🤢

No no, let's move on from this now.

discovered a new music artist you really liked? 🎤

Dreamcatcher is pretty cool.

discovered a new song you really liked? 🎶

Of course, plenty. I'll go with Like Crazy by Jimin though. Or Amygdala by Agust D.

seen snow? ⛄️

I have indeed.

seen beautiful fall foliage? 🍁

Yesss.

gone to the beach? 🏝

Yes, we went to the beach near Rome. Didn't swim though.

rode a bike? 🚴

I think I did. I wanted to do it more.

rode a horse? 🐎

Nope.

swam? 👙

Yup.

worn makeup? 💄

A tiny bit.

done a craft project?

Nope.

made a scrapbook page?

I think I did at the beginning of the year. I have to get back to that.

written an essay? 📝

Yes.

painted something? 🎨

Nope.

drawn something? ✍️

I doodled here and there. I'm terrible at it, but I love it.

sketched in a sketchbook?

Same answer.

written someone a letter? 📝

Not this year.

been to a concert? 👩‍🎤

Yup, but sadly nothing too spectacular.

driven a car? 🚘

Of course.

kayaked? 🛶

Nope.

gone on a cruise? 🚢

Nope.

made a big purchase?

Well, plane tickets and apartment booking for Rome.

moved to a new home? 🏡

Nope.

got a new pet?

Hmm, well not technically, but we kind of have another cat. She comes to our backyard every day and we feed her, so she mostly just chills there. She doesn't like being touched, though, but she's still always around. We got her neutered this year too.

lost a pet?

Nope.

gotten a tattoo?

Nope, but I'm very much thinking about it.

gotten a new piercing?

Yup, got one and changed the other one.

started a new hobby?

Kind of, I'm finally going to the gym and taking different classes there. My company is paying membership, so I had to take advantage of it.

worn a mask? 😷

Nope.

felt afraid to leave your house?

Nope.

celebrated your birthday alone?

I didn't celebrate it, alone or otherwise.

celebrated Christmas alone?

Nope, family lunch as always.

went for a long walk through the neighborhood?

Oh yeah.

Favorites of this Year (Pick one for each.)

Song:

Gah, fine, Like Crazy by Jimin.

Book:

Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata.

TV show:

The Fall of the House of Usher this year for sure.

Youtube channel:

This year I've been back into gaming and discovered the MoreAnt channel, so I've been binging his horror games and other stuff.

Food:

Sushi.

Dessert:

Chocolate souffle.

Drink:

There's this wonderfully delicious strawberries and cream soda in our new K-food supermarket. I'm absolutely obsessed with it. Fruit soju too, but I can't always drink soju.

Friend:

Sam.

Thing you did:

Went on a first proper trip with my friend group.

Place you went:

Transylvania!

Person you spend time with:

My sister, most of the time.

Thing you did for your birthday:

Went to a goodbye party to see off a friend who moved to Germany. It was a fun little picnic.

Celebrity:

BTS.

Website:

Youtube.

Emojis:

I like the teary eyed one, I'm on my laptop so can't be bothered to do it, but yes. Also the deep in thought one.

Colors:

Blue, black, purple.

Restaurant:

Moon Sushi.

Tea flavor ☕️:

Idk, been drinking a lot of mint.

Final Questions!

Would you say this past year has been a good year overall?

Well, not really. I mean, I had plenty of good moments, looking back, it's just that mentally I wasn't doing so well most of the time.

What are your goals for the new year?

Travel somewhere new, maybe try solo travelling. Read more. Write more (not just for work). Keep up with the gym stuff. Try to say yes to more opportunities. GO BACK TO LEARNING JAPANESE.

How old will you turn next year?

Why do these questions like to torture me... 29.

Did you make any big mistakes this past year?

Nothing much comes to mind.

Do you have any big changes coming?

Well, just adjusting to driving the car around a big city and paying all related expenses.

How will you be celebrating New Year’s Eve this year?

I'll be at my favorite cover band's New Year gig with my friends.

What was the best day of this year for you, and why?

I think probably 15th or 16th July. It's kinda silly, but basically, I went to a gig with my friends and we had a ridiculously good time. My friends' brother and I were making up these weird choreographies for songs, everyone seemed to have really enjoyed themselves, the energy was just awesome. Then I was walking home early in the morning as the sun was coming out and just thinking to myself how these moments are what life is all about.

What did you spend the most time doing this year?

Working, probably.

Happy New Year everyone!

#personal #surveys

0 notes

marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

Taking Chances Ch. 2 Finding Out (Family/Friends)

AO3

@maribat-bdbwm

“Mari!” Adrien yells, running past Batman to sweep her up in a hug. Marinette’s face instantly heats up, but she buries herself into the hug. After all, it’s not every day she faces a supervillain determined to kill her with a dangerous weapon...without her suit, anyway.

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” Marinette reassures him, relishing in the comfort. A cleared throat makes her jump back and look at Batman who, despite clearing his throat and cutting off the most amazing hug ever, has no emotions on his face. Whatsoever. Cause that’s not intimidating or anything.

“The police will need your statement, Miss Dupain Cheng.” Batman says. Marinette nods, squeaking when Adrien reaches down and entwines his fingers with hers. Following Batman’s directions to the awaiting police, Marinette feels nerves flood her systerm as she sees the sheer number of officers on the other side of the door. Sucking in a deep breath, she feels Adrien squeeze her hand. Shooting him a thankful smile, Marinette uses her unattached hand to open the door and step out into the mess of personnel. A man with a mustache and square glasses steps forward immediately, his hand extended.

“Hello Miss Dupain Cheng. I’m Commissioner Jim Gordon. We were in communication with Batman while he was inside so we heard some of what happened. Would you be comfortable telling us what happened? We can get you checked over by paramedics first, if you want.” Commissioner Gordon says.

“Oh, no, no. I’m fine. I don’t-” She starts to say, but a gruff voice cuts her off.

“She should be examined immediately, Gordon. She may have inhaled smoke from the smoke bombs due to proximity. She also could have burns to her face or ears from Joker’s gun. He shot it and then proceeded to prod her with it.” Batman says, the last part of his ‘report’ slightly more gruff than the first. Was he…..worried about her? Marinette shakes that thought off almost immediately. Why would Batman be worried about her? Wait, was he really going to make her see the paramedics when all she wanted to do was talk to the officers so she could get back to the trip?

“I assure you, Monsieur Batman, Monsieur Gordon, I don’t need to see the paramedics. I’m a little shaky, but that’s all. I mean, I was held at gunpoint. I think shaky is appropriate, non?” Marinette asks, flashing the two a bright smile. Gordon raises an eyebrow and glances at Batman who shakes his head stiffly.

“She gets examined.” He says, leaving no room for questions as he pulls his grappling hook (?!?!) out and retreats to the rooftop.

“You heard the man. We can talk as you’re examined, if you’d prefer. I’m sure you just want to put this whole business behind you.” Commissioner Gordon says kindly. Marinette sighs in relief and nods, smiling again at the man. Hopefully this would be taken care of quickly. --- Bruce Wayne was slightly panicking, though he would never admit it. When reports of the Joker being spotted at the Gotham City Museum of Modern Art first rolled in, he assumed his biggest challenge would be keeping Jason from murdering the clown. He did not expect to see a small girl being held at gunpoint. A girl who looked like a strange mix between his mother, and someone else. But he couldn’t place his- of course. Memories flood his mind as he thinks back to the woman who was so clearly related to the small girl. Bridgette Le. A woman that he, at one time, thought he would be able to spend the rest of his life with. Until she left Gotham and cut off all contact between the two. Oh god. She wouldn’t….would she? --- “I don’t understand why that older paramedic looked like she’d seen a ghost.” Marinette says with a pout as she continues working on the embroidery for a jacket for Jagged. Design never sleeps.

“What d’ya mean?” Adrien asks from his nest of blankets on her bed. Marinette tries to focus on keeping her blush down. Apparently, the attack at the museum had scared Adrien more than her, though she imagined he was scared on her behalf. But she couldn’t quite understand why...nevertheless, he had become attached at her hip and hadn’t left her side since they got back to the hotel. Even though all she really wanted was a little alone time to talk to Tikki. Especially about the chance of the Miraculous Cure working here. Maybe if she was in the battle…

“Didn’t you notice? He was fine til he looked into my eyes and then he got super pale. He looked like he was going to say something, but Monsieur Gordon stopped him before he could.” Marinette recounts, remembering the way the paramedic had to switch out since his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

“I didn’t notice that. That’s weird. Anything else happen like that today?” Adrien asks, finally sitting up and giving her his full attention. Marinette pauses her stitching and purses her lips as she runs the days events back through her head. The paramedic. Batman. Joker. Arriving late to the museum. The cab ride. Being left at the hotel. Coffee-

“Well,” Marinette starts, furrowing her eyebrows as she tries to rationalize the man’s actions in addition to the actions of the paramedic. But something wasn’t adding up. “There was my cab ride to the museum.”

“What happened? Was someone creepy? I can fight them for you!” Adrien offers, a little too cheery. Marinette freezes as she studies his face, searching for something. Adrien had been off all day. More protective than he’d been in awhile. And the few times Lila had spoken, he had scowled at her instead of ignored her. Was he finally coming around to the idea that the high road would not work with Lila? Pushing those thoughts off for another time, Marinette shakes her head.

“No, no. Nothing like that. But as I was leaving, he called me Miss Wayne.” Marinette admits, not expecting Adrien’s uncontrollable laughter.

“He, you, oh my god!” He laughs, clutching his sides. Marinette’s eyebrows furrow in confusion as she sets the jacket down on the desk.

“What?” She asks, completely and totally frustrated with the situation. Adrien laughs for another minute before calming down, wiping tears from his eyes and shooting her a blinding smile. Not his model smile. An actual smile that warms her heart and her cheeks.

“I’m so sorry Mari. It’s just, I think he was referring to the fact that you look like the typical kid Bruce Wayne adopts.” Adrien says and Marinette’s blood freezes.

“Did you say Bruce Wayne?” Marinette asks and Adrien nods, his previous mirth wiped from his face.

“Yeah, Mari, are you okay?” He asks. Marinette nods, then shakes her head, then groans and throws up her arms in frustration.

“I don’t know! I just- you remember how I told you I’m adopted?” She asks. Adrien nods, then stops. A look of mixed terror and awe flooding his face.

“Oh god, Mari. You never told me the name. Your birth father-”

“His name is Bruce Wayne. But there’s gotta be hundreds if not thousands of Bruce Waynes in the US right?” Marinette asks, even as her hope in that idea dwindles.

“The US? He’s confirmed from the US?” Adrien asks, already pulling out his phone.

“Yes. Adrien, what are you doing?” She asks, suddenly worried as she jumps onto the bed next to him, desperately trying to see his phone.

“I’m googling Bruce Wayne and Bridgette Le as a combined search. Wayne is one of the most prominent figures in Gotham, all of his previous relationships have photographic evidence. Except for whoever the mother of his youngest is. But that’s probably because he wasn’t in the country at that time.” Adrien says, typing away furiously on his phone. Marinette’s eyebrow quirks up in amusement.

“Since when were you a master researcher?” She asks with a grin.

“Since one of my best friends found out she’s adopted and it could be the man who hosts the only palatable high society parties. Seriously. And they’d be much better if you were there and-holy shit. Your bio mom looks just like you!” Adrien exclaims, turning the phone to her. Marinette inhales deeply and thanks whatever power there is that she’s not in Paris right now. The emotions running over her at an indescribable speed...not all of them are positive. And they’re all overwhelming as she looks at a picture that very clearly shows her bio mom with Bruce Wayne. As in the Gotham Bruce Wayne. Not a different unknown Bruce Wayne across the country somewhere. Nope. A man who is apparently prominent enough that Monsieur Agreste makes his son go to the man’s parties.

“I don’t suppose she just had a type for men named Bruce Wayne?” Marinette says weakly. This was not what she expected. --- This was exactly what he expected. Looking at the birth records for one Marinette Le, where he’s noted as the father. Though why he wasn’t notified before the girl’s custody was signed over to Sabine Cheng, he’ll never understand. His jaw clenches as he continues reading, eyes scanning over Bridgette’s death certificate before glancing back at Marinette’s birth certificate. A daughter. He had a daughter. Another child that he would never be able to hold when they were small. Another child that grew up without him. Another child that he didn’t meet until they were already a person. Someone with their own experiences individual from his own, someone that may not even know he had found them. And that he wanted nothing more than to get to know someone who was brave enough to stand between the Joker and her friends. Someone who was determined not to let what should have been the most traumatic experience in her life be a set back. He had a daughter. And he wanted to meet her.

***

Note, my headcannon is that the paramedic that panicked did so because he was one of the first responders the night that the Waynes were murdered. And while she looks a lot like her birth mom, Marinette also definitely has Martha Wayne’s eyes and the paramedic could NOT deal. Also, let me know if you want tagged!

Tag List: @jjmjjktth

#maribat bruce wayne #maribat #maribat bio dad bruce #maribat bio dad! bruce wayne month 2021 #mbdbwm2021 #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #day two family/friends

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

Text

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 3)

i did not expect this to turn into more than just a oneshot, but here i am, posting a part 3?? and there’s more to come??? lmao, im a mess, having a million wips at a time, whatever. enjoy this DIRTY piece in the world of Harry and Actress!Y/N hehe!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 3k

warning: NSFW content (we are taking a dirty turn in this part babes)

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

“But are you really sure you’re fine?” Florence asks for the millionth time over the phone. “You know, I could come over anytime, have a few drinks and forget about the idiots who decided you don’t deserve that Emmy.”

“I’m very sure,” you chuckle, sinking further down on your couch, kicking your heels off your feet. “It’s not a big deal.” “Oh it is, but you are trying to act all tough, though I know it bothers you.”

“I didn’t say it doesn’t bother me, but there’s nothing I can do about it,” you tell her truthfully.

“You know, sometimes I forget that you are this wise ass bitch, not some petty loser that I usually am.”

You snort at her words laughing loudly. Florence is by far one of the funniest people you know, she never fails to make you laugh, no matter what’s the situation.

“It’s sad that I didn’t win, but I’m fine. Really. Maybe next time it will be me,” you say, genuinely hoping this wasn’t your first nomination.

“Okay, I’ll stop bugging you, but call me if you change your mind and want company.”

“Thank you, Flo. Talk to you later.”

Once you end the call you let a long, heavy breath out that feels like you’ve been keeping in all night. Walking into your closet you stop in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, taking a look at yourself, still wearing the burgundy pant suit you wore for the award show. You were the only woman in pants all evening and you felt more powerful than ever. You’ve always loved to make a statement with your fashion choices and tonight you feel like you definitely succeeded in getting the message through: you are a bad bitch.

Stripping out of the outfit you hang it carefully before putting on some sweats and an oversized vintage t-shirt, feeling so much more comfortable already. Your hair is still in loose waves and you kind of like the texture, so you just leave it like that, moving into your bedroom to check up on some emails.

Cozied up under your duvet, laptop resting on your thighs, you start replying to some emails, updating your schedule for the next week. You almost don’t notice the text you get, barely catching the lit up screen from the corner of your eyes. Grabbing the device from the night stand you smile down at the series of messages from Harry.

“Bunch of idiots,” the first one reads.

“I’m suing them. All of them.”

“You looked fucking unreal by the way. Couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

Biting down on your bottom lip you read the last one over and over again. It’s been weeks since your number landed in Harry’s phone and you’ve been texting nonstop since then. Whenever you pulled your phone out to check if someone had tried to reach you, there was always a text rom him waiting for you, making you smile most of the time.

“Thanks Xx,” you reply shortly, not sure how to react to his heated words of calling the whole Television Academy a bunch of idiots, though it surely warmed your heart.

“Enjoying the after party?” his next text comes fast.

“Nope, I’m home already. Didn’t feel like partying.”

“What?! You not winning is not an excuse to skip celebrating. You still got nominated!”

“Already celebrated that, so I’m out of occasions.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do that. Text me your address, I’m going over with wine and takeout.”

His bluntness in flirting and shooting his shot has been amusing to you since the moment he sat next to you on The Ellen Show. Harry Styles doesn’t shy away to try and show his attraction, or at least not towards you.

You hesitate a little, not sure if you want him here, but something deep down in your guts is telling you that you definitely want him to come over, some dirty thoughts already popping into your mind, but you are quick to get rid of them.

You send him your address and he tells you he’ll be over in twenty. You use that time to clean up a little around your apartment. You left in kind of a rush earlier, being a little late with your glam team, so you didn’t bother to leave the place in a decent state. It doesn’t take long though to clean up the mess and checking the time you see that you still have a little time until Harry arrives. As you walk past one of the mirrors in your hallway, you take a look at yourself, debating whether you should change or stay in your comfy homey outfit. At last you drop the idea to put on a different outfit, not wanting to look desperate when Harry arrives.

Not long later you get a notification from downstairs that a so called Mr. Styles has entered the building and is heading up to your floor. Running a hand through your hair you walk over to the front door and opening it you stand there, waiting for the elevator to arrive. When the familiar ding hits your ear you notice how your heart skips a beat upon seeing him walk out.

“Hi,” you smile at him holding the door open for him. He looks amazing, as always, wearing a pair of brown high-waisted pants with a loose white shirt tugged into it, a teal denim jacket topping the outfit. He looks comfortable, but still well put together, something you have always admired in his style.

“Hello, Love,” he smiles back at you and pulls you in for a short, one armed hug before walking fully inside. “Didn’t know what stuff you fancy, so I got a bunch,” he admits with a chuckle, holding up two plastic bags completely stuffed.

“You really shouldn’t have,” you shake your head at him smiling as you lock the front door and lead him into your open concept kitchen.

“But I should have,” he argues, setting the bags down to the counter, packing out everything he brought.

Three bottles of wine, all of them different kinds, snacks, both sweet and salty, topped with an insane amount of Chinese takeout that could feed a whole family, not just two people. You put the wines into the fridge though you know they won’t get chilly enough by the time you open it. Turning to Harry you smile at him shyly, only just now realizing that he is in your home for the first time.

“Want a tour?” you ask, pulling your shoulders up to your ears.

“Would love that,” he smirks and lets you lead the way.

The modern apartment in Manhattan has been your home for a little over a year now. One of the first things you invested into once you started earning like an A-list celebrity. It’s spacious, you did the interior over once you bought it, formed it a little more to your taste. You walk Harry through the living room, the three bedrooms from which one is yours, the others function as a guest room whenever a family member of one of your friends needs a place to stay. There are three bathrooms in total, a study room that’s always a mess, your desk filled with scripts and books most of the time, but Harry tells you it suits your vibe.

“And this here is my wardrobe,” you end the tour, flicking the lights on in the walk in closet, probably your favorite part of the place. It’s bigger than your bedroom, but it’s exactly what you and your passion for fashion needs.

Harry curiously walks inside, his eyes immediately stopping on the burgundy pant suit you wore earlier that night.

“This, Darling, was an excellent choice,” he smirks over at you, his fingers dancing over the soft fabric of the pants.

“Felt amazing in it,” you nod smiling.

“I bet you did,” he chuckles softly.

The two of you head back to the kitchen and sit at the kitchen island, roaming through all the food Harry has brought. A short silence comes over the room that’s broken by Harry first.

“So how are you really feeling about tonight?”

“I’m fine,” you shrug, but then feel his hand on your knee that’s closer to him and your eyes flicker over to him, his gaze burning down on you intently.

“No, I’m asking fo’ real. You don’t have to mask your disappointment.”

Licking your lips you look back at your plate filled with dumplings and you start to just poke them around with the chopsticks in your hand.

“Of course I’m disappointed. Who wouldn’t want to win? But there’s not much I can do about it, right?”

“Still, you shouldn’t push it all down.”

“I’m not the type to rage very publicly, if you haven’t realized that,” you chuckle, diverting your eyes back at him, catching a soft smile on his lips.

“That I know of. Miss No Beef,” he teases you, even though you could pretty much say the same thing about him. “I was properly screaming at the screen when they said someone else’s name over yours.”

“Yeah?” you chuckle.

“Mhm. I was rooting for you big time.”

“Well,” you sigh turning back to your plate. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Nah-ah, none of that crap, Y/N,” he protests right away, dropping his chopsticks to his plate as he slides off his stool, stepping closer to you, one hand lying flat on the counter, while the other one finds the underside of your stool and he easily turns you so you are facing him, your knees involuntarily parting so he could stand between them. “I’m not letting you think of any less of yourself because of some stupid award.”

“The Emmys are not stupid,” you correct him, but it seems like he doesn’t even hear you, staring down at you with a smug grin, his hand moving from the stool to your waist.

“Mhm, they are. They made the most talented and beautiful woman think she is not the best of all.”

You can’t push down the smile that tugs on your lips as you watch him slowly lean closer. Heart beating faster, you let him do whatever he has on his mind, not finding the will to push him away. Not that you want to do that, you’d be stupid to say no to this man.

“Who’s this woman we are talking about?” you breathe out with a teasing smile. Harry smirks back at you, his hand squeezing your waist gently as his other hand moves up to the base of your neck, his thumb running along your jawline.

“The woman I’ve been fantasizing about lately.”

A desperate whimper tries to escape your lips, but you bite it back in time, feeling so lost how much effect he has on you with just a simple sentence.

“What are these fantasies about?” you find yourself asking as he leans closer, his nose brushing against yours.

You’re aching for his lips, to feel him touch you everywhere. You want to come undone under his hands and the breaking point where you won’t be able to mask up your desperate feelings is threateningly close.

“I’ve been thinking about making her feel real good. Watch her fall apart under my touch,” he murmurs lowly and this time, you can’t hold that moan back. Your lips brush against his, but he pulls back smirking, not kissing you.

“Fuck,” you breathe out when you feel his hand move from your waist to your stomach, cheekily teasing you as he is drawing circles around your belly button over the soft fabric of your shirt.

“Can I touch you, Y/N? I really want to make you feel appreciated and good. Will you let me do that?”

Not able to find your voice you whimper out something that’s close to being a yes, but it’s not enough for him and while you are losing touch with what’s really going on, Harry is very much enjoying seeing you like this, all for himself.

“Use your words, Love. I wanna hear you say it.”

“Yes!” you choke out and luckily, he doesn’t waste any more time.

You feel his lips connect with your neck as both his hands work on the waistband of your sweats, pushing them further down a little before his right hand taps on the top of your lacy underwear, the one you wore under your suit tonight, the one Harry definitely thought about when he first saw you through his screen.

You gasp when his hand slides into your underwear, fingers finding your sensitive bud of nerves, pressing down on them softly. You desperately turn your face, eager to meet his lips, but he pulls back for your dismay.

“Not now, Love,” he tells you and though the words sting a little, you don’t have much time to dwell on them when you feel his fingers slide back and forth between your soaking wet folds. “So wet for me, aren’t you?” he smirks while you’re trying to breath evenly, though it’s quite the challenge.

His lips return to your neck and your hands fly up to grab onto the back of his neck and shoulders, his fingers teasing you around your hole, not entering just yet. You start buckling your hips, desperate to get him take the next step and he is surely enjoying the show you are putting on for him.

“Ready to feel good?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, hands grabbing onto his hair roughly and a loud moan escapes your lips when he pushes two of his fingers inside you.

“Fuck, this feels so nice,” he groans, lips nipping on the soft skin under your ear. He is quick to take up on a pace, moving his digits in and out, his thumb circling on your clit, adding that extra magic most men always forget about. But not Harry, he is eager to please you the best he can and if you weren’t sitting, you’d be on your knees for him by now.

“Yeah, tug on my hair, Darling,” he growls, his voice sending chills down your spine as you tighten your grip in his hair just as he asked, while you feel your climax building up.

He picks up his pace, curling his fingers inside you every time he thrusts them in, making you almost see stars. Your legs fly around his waist, ankles crossing above his bum as you bring him closer, and a whimpered groan bursts out of him, probably because his erection just got squeezed against his hand by your action, his nonstop moving hand now stuck between your heated core and his throbbing member. When his head pulls back you quickly look at him, about to ask if he is alright, but he just presses a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth as his unsaid answer that he is perfectly fine.

His forehead comes to rest against yours as he adds a third finger, making you moan his name in ecstasy. Your mind is starting to completely shut down, the sensation of utter pleasure taking over your whole body as you can feel your orgasm just a few thrusts away.

“C’mon, Love. Let it go for me,” he mumbles, his free hand sliding to your back so he keeps you flushed against him, your heaving chest touching his upper body with each drawn breath.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you pant, eyes screwed shut, tipping over the edge of your climax. “Please don’t stop!” you beg whining.

“Never, Darling.”

And he keeps his words. He keeps going and going until your walls close up around his slick fingers and your thighs tremble around his waist. You tug on his hair once again, pulling his head back just enough so your eyes meet right when you come undone. His fingers keep moving a little longer, bringing you down from your high before the last wave of your orgasm dies down and you are brought back to reality.

When his fingers slide out of you, the feeling of emptiness makes you breathe out in dismay and it brings a smile to his lips as he licks his fingers clean and you swear that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, watch him taste your pleasure on his own fingers.

Glancing down you see the very visible bulge in his pants and you reach down to return the favor you just had the pleasure to get, but his hands wrap around your wrists stopping you, your eyes snapping up to meet his.

“Not now, Love. This was all about you. I’ll be fine.”

“But—“ “No,” he cuts you off shaking his head gently. “Seeing you like this was more than enough for me.”

Biting down on your bottom lip you feel yourself blushing at his words, the whole situation that just went down dawning on you just now. Harry really did just finger you on one of your kitchen stools and it was one hell of an experience for sure.

When your gaze wanders over to his lips you remember how he refused to kiss you and now you actually have the chance to pay more attention to this tiny detail.

“Why didn’t you kiss me?” you ask him, legs falling from his waist as he goes to sit back on his stool. He glances at you, a soft smile on the lips that never touched yours.

“I wasn’t planning to do this, but I just couldn’t stop myself. However, I’m still trying to be a gentleman, so I won’t kiss you until I’ve taken you out on a proper date.”

“I can’t believe you,” you chuckle shaking your head at the absurdity of what he just said. “So you are fine fingering me shamelessly, but you won’t kiss me without a date?” you ask, rephrasing his words.

“That’s right,” he nods, his smile growing into a smirk now. Shaking your head you turn back to your probably cold plate of food, chuckling to yourself.

“Harry Styles, you are… something else.”

PREVIOUS PART

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#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles never have i ever #harry styles series #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x actress!reader

1K notes · View notes

shotorozu · 4 years

Note

Hello! May I request for Todoroki, Shinsou, and Tamaki who stalk their female crush, in which she likes them back? How would they stalk her and would their crush figure it out eventually or would it be a forever mystery/ secret she wouldn’t have known? And how would she or the stalkers ask each other out? Thank you!

stalk

character(s) : todoroki shouto, shinsou hitoshi, amajiki tamaki (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] female! reader at the request of anon, quirk’s not specific

headcanon type : fluff, if you squint— crack

note(s) : this isn’t really a yandere type of ‘stalker’ but rather accidental stalking i guess? so yeah— it depends if you find it ‘creepy’ but it’s rather unintentional

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

todoroki shouto

man, i think he already has a habit of accidentally following/eavesdropping on people 💀

but i’d supposed it’s because he’s unaware of how much he does it— and how blantly obvious it is. so, it’s not really a shocker that he starts following around his crush.

he doesn’t really have a specific routine, because again— he’s not really aware that he’s actually stalking someone

you guys started off as good friends (like any other pre-existing relationship) and you’ve hung out with him plenty of times

so it would be normal for him to want to be around you more, right?

he’ll start off by coincidentally being at the same places you’re at, he’ll pretend he’s doing his own thing— and oh! he’ll just bump into you

shouto doesn’t realize how WEIRD it is to follow around people— let alone a woman, just for the sake of it. he’ll say it’s because he wants to ensure your safety but really? it’s more than that.

he’ll eventually get caught, but it’s not in the most embarrassing way. so, you’re talking to him like normal (ignoring the raging butterflies in your stomach)

“you’re always at the same places at the same time as me, i might just believe that you’re following me!”

because every single time you felt like someone was following you, it would always be shouto— the person that made you feel safe at all times.

and surprisingly, he’ll be quick to admit. “i.. maybe.” and you’re appalled because wow my crush has been following me

it would’ve been weird for sure, if it weren’t for the fact that shouto said it with the purest of intentions, a faint blush dusting against his cheeks

“it’s because,, i’d like to be with you more.” and from that point, the rest is history!

he’ll mention this experience to midoriya at some point, and midoriya will just 👁👄👁 ➖👄➖ “todoroki, do you know what stalking is?”

shinsou hitoshi

i think he also has a weird habit of eavesdropping, or following people. but it’s a lot less than shouto—

because people were already quite wary of him (even since his middle school days) so, he’s learned how to tone it down

but wow, does he love being around you more. sure, he has his fair share of aqquaintances and friendly individuals, but the vibe is totally different around you

in a different, and positive way.

a part of me thinks he’d take a part of cyber stalking. like,, hitoshi will take a look at your social medias for a certain amount of time

hitoshi will look at every single recent picture, he’ll observe the background, the place, and he’ll probably think of the context

he’ll also take the chance to look at old pictures, birthday photos, etc. but lowkey, i feel like everyone has done this once

oh, but he’ll never do that thing where he accidentally likes a post from 3 years back— nope. he’s careful and cautious.

and speaking of careful and cautious, you’ll never catch him actually ‘stalking’ you. like,, he’ll actually call out to you first in person, if he thinks he’s close enough

but everytime you turn around, you wouldn’t be able to find anyone you know— and even in a crowded area (which is,, hm.)

so that’s when shinsou finally decides to confess— instead of beating around the bush and stalking you like a weirdo, and when you accept, he’s over the moon

because it would’ve been hella awkward if he was stalking you online, and you just.. rejected him. which is fine, he could take the hint

people will have their suspicions though, even when you guys are together already. the fact that your account is always in his search history, and also the fact that he remembers oddly specific places (that he hasn’t been to in a while.)

you won’t talk about it though, but there are things you do say— that makes him think that you knew of his weird habits.

amajiki tamaki

poor, poor tamaki.

he probably has an idea that what he’s doing is creepy in itself. he’ll scold himself— what are you doing?! you’re apart of the big three, and you’re doing this to your crush!

but he’s not doing anything creepy, like stealing your clothes and valuable items. no— he wouldn’t actually go there, he’d never live, knowing he did something like that!

tamaki’s case is quite similar to todoroki’s case. he’ll follow you in an attempt to try to talk to you, and so he knows that you’re safe and in the best condition

but, it never really works out?? he’ll be a few feet away, sending glances towards your way, just to see if you’ll move closer (or farther, really.)

but ugh‼️ he hates that he’s like this, and he’d probably be teased to death if mirio or nejire found out.

it first starts out as subtle following, he’ll keep himself at as safe distance, knowing you won’t find him from that distance.

then, he’ll subconsciously get closer and closer— and he’s rather silent during the entire thing, admiring you from such distance

he’ll feel horrible every single time. he’d cry if he could, but he knows that he shouldn’t pity himself like that :,)

somehow— mirio and nejire catch on, and they tease him here and there, saying how cute he is. “tamaki, i don’t know why you’re worrying so much! she like you as much as you like her! so, just go for it!”

luckily, that’s the final push for tamaki, and he goes out to confess everything. first, the fact that he’s been following you, and then his feelings

tamaki’s apologizing profusely, and he’s sure that you don’t want to be around him, because of his odd habit— but you immediately offer him reassurance, wrapping your arms around him.

“it’s okay, tamaki! you don’t need to be sorry. you didn’t mean any harm, and besides! it’s kind of cute.” in reality, you found out because he wasn’t being all slick about it—

is this the afterlife? you don’t,, actually hate him? thank goodness

he’ll hug you, muttering a small apology once more— as he relishes in the feeling of you being his, finally.

don’t tease him about this, please. he’ll whine in embarrassment, hiding his red cheeks away from your eyes— begging for you to switch the conversation

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works in audio readings without my permission :))

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bi-bard · 2 years

Text

Familiar Faces - Jack Kline Imagine (Supernatural/DC's Legends of Tomorrow Crossover)

Title: Familiar Faces

Pairing: Jack Kline X Platonic!Reader, Nora Darhk X Platonic!Reader

Requested: nope

Word Count: 1,255 words

Warning(s): bit of cussing, mentions of kidnapping (Arrow spoiler), threats of violence

Summary: (Season 13 in Supernatural, Season 5 (I think) of Legends) In the hopes of saving Jack and Mary, (Y/n) joins Dean and Ketch in the apocalypse world. However, after the mission takes a bit of a left turn, they try to get home, only for (Y/n) get thrown somewhere completely different.

Author's Note: I wrote a post about this on my fan account as a joke, but it felt like a good break from the serious imagines that I just uploaded.

---------------------------------

I don't think anything was as messy as the time that Team Free Will spent hopping around alternate dimensions.

It seemed like a simple enough task, considering everything. Get the portal open, get into the apocalypse world, get Jack and Mary, and then, get the hell out of there and slam the door shut.

Of course... nothing could ever be that simple.

As Dean, Ketch, and I ran back to the portal, I had a bit of difficulty keeping up. We had been running and fighting constantly and it was finally catching up with me. My clothes and skin had dirt all over and I was far too sweaty.

"(Y/n), let's go," Dean glanced back at me.

"Focus on not running into a tree," I shouted back at him.

We made it back to the portal with barely enough time.

The two of them ran in without any problems. However, when I went to run through, I was sent flying backward. I felt my back hit the ground hard and roll backward for a moment. I stopped myself with my hands.

I hadn't landed on the forest floor like I was expecting, I had landed on this metal material. I looked up to see a group of people staring at me from around a table. I quickly stood up, staring back at them. Then, I caught sight of someone very familiar.

"Kelly," I asked.

She furrowed her eyebrows, "Who?"

"You're not Kelly?"

"Who the hell is Kelly?"

"More importantly, who are you," a blonde woman on the opposite side of the table asked.

"And why are you so dirty," a tall man with brown hair asked.

I looked down at my clothes.

"I'd answer the questions before we throw you in one of the cells on board," another blonde woman added.

"I will," I promised. "However, your story is probably far less complicated. Maybe a few names.... and the name of where I am?"

"I'm Sara," the first woman replied before pointing at each person around the table. "That's Ava, Ray, Nate, Zari, Charlie, Mick, John, and Nora. You are on a ship called the Waverider."

"A ship? Doesn't quite feel like we're on water?"

"Time ship," Ray corrected. He had said maybe a total of eight words, and I could already tell he was the human equivalent of a puppy.

"Oh," I nodded. I took a few steps toward the table. I was standing in between Ray and Nora. "Well, my name is (Y/n)."

"Hello, (Y/n)," Mick said, reminiscent of an A.A meeting.

"Alright," I muttered. "I am from a different universe."

"God, not again," Nate groaned.

"Tell me about it," I replied. "I'd give anything to be done with this portal nonsense. Anyway! I am a monster hunter. I have been for most of my life. I work with two men named Sam and Dean, and an angel named Castiel. We had... a complicated situation take place."

"All ears," Nora pushed.

"Well, that's kind of where you come in," I explained. "There's a woman on my earth who looks just like you. Except, her name is Kelly Kline. Kelly was manipulated by Lucifer... and it was our fault he was free in the place. He manipulated her and she ended up pregnant. She died in childbirth. I was there when it happened. I promised to watch her kid."

The table was silent.

"Their name's Jack," I grinned a little. "They're a Nephilim. Half archangel, half human. They're incredibly powerful. Their birth ripped a hole in space and opened a portal to an apocalyptic world when Lucifer and Michael fought and when Michael when, he started wiping out the humans. Sam and Dean's mom got dragged over. Jack thought that in order to make things right, they should find her."

"The... baby," Ray asked. I froze.

"That's another complicated part," I replied. "I'll explain that in a minute. Anyway, Jack ended up stuck. Dean and I managed to open a portal and tried to find them. Ended up trying to save someone else. When we went to make it back to our world, the portal... glitched? And then, I was thrown in your ship."

"The other me gave birth to the antichrist," Nora asked.

"Jack's a complete puppy dog," I said. "They're nothing like their dad. They don't call Lucifer that. To them, their dad is Castiel."

"How would the baby call him anything," Ray seemed very stressed about this.

"Jack... didn't... they didn't come out a baby," I tried to explain.

Before I could properly explain, there was some kind of intercom that came on.

"Ms. Lance, there's a new presence on the ship and it's coming toward you all," it said.

"What the hell-"

"It's just Gideon," Ray whispered to me.

"(Y/n)," I looked over as Jack walked into the room. They looked at everyone else and waved, "Hello."

"Jack," I shouted, running over and hugging them. I stepped back and looked for any visible wounds. "How did you get here? How did you get out of the apocalypse world? Are you hurt? Where are Sam and Dean? Is Mary alright? How long have I been gone?"

"Everyone's okay," Jack said. "And it's only been a day. We got another portal open so we could find you."

I let out a sigh of relief.

I turned around to introduce them and saw Nora looking absolutely terrified.

"You... This is Jack," she asked quietly.

I nodded.

"The other me gave birth to them," she continued. I nodded again. "I don't know if there's really a God, but I'd love to give them a swift kick in the nuts."

I furrowed my eyebrows.

"They... They looks like the man who killed my mother," she explained.

"Oh," I whispered.

"His name was Lonnie," she continued. "He was angry with my dad. Kidnapped me and my mom twice and killed her. He tried to kill me."

The entire ship was tense.

"I understand you're not him... but it's... scary. I won't lie."

Jack stepped forward slowly, "I'm sorry that I scared you."

"It's... it's not your fault," she shook her head. "Umm... (Y/n) told us about your dad. My dad was kind of known for being evil. I understand what that can be like."

"I'm trying to be better than him," Jack replied happily.

Nora grinned at them a little, "Good."

"Jack," I asked. They looked back at me. "Ready to head home?"

They nodded before looking back at Nora, "Can I give you a hug?"

She just kind of stared at them for a minute before slowly stepping forward and giving them an awkward hug. They were happy with it, hugging her back. She smiled wider, relaxing a little bit.

When they stepped back, they walked over to me quickly, "Come on!"

They started walking back to the portal. I chuckled at their excitement and turned to the group, "It was nice meeting you all!"

"You too," Ray said excitedly. The others waved to me right before I turned around and jogged to catch up with Jack.

We stood next to each other next to the portal. I grabbed their hand and dragged them through the portal.

"There they are," I let out a laugh when Dean yanked me into a tight hug. "You alright?"

"I'm fine," I stepped back and looked at the crowd in the room. "Oh. Wow. There's a lot of you."

"Where'd you end up," Sam asked from the front of the crowd.

"Oh... I've got a bit of a story..."

---------------------------------

Author's Note: I would love some art of Ray absolutely stressing out about this baby. Thank you for reading this very silly imagine.

---------------------------------

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waywardimpalawriter · 3 years

Note

hi! i really love your writing, and was really hoping you could do another dean winchester x f! plus size reader. possibly were they are best friends and she is pining for someone else. so before she can make her move on someone else he stops her and confess his love for her. idk maybe some angst/fluff/smut?? you don’t have to if u don’t want to, it’s totally up to you. like no pressure at all! but seriously, i do really love all your writing and i wanted to say thank you for everything u write and do!! <3 once again no pressure at all with this ask, but overall thank you!!<3

Just one good reason

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Female Reader

SPN mixed Bingo Square: Hurt/Comfort Square

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester,

Setting: mid season 11

Rating: E (explicit), NSFW, 18+ only please

Warnings: angst, smut, yearning, grumpy and sweet Dean (yes they need a warning),

Word count: 12,805 (Truly Was suppose to be this long. I blame Dean for this.)

Summary: He’s given a million reasons, damaged goods, blood on his hands, nightmares, scared in so many ways. But most of all that he’s not good enough. Just when you’re ready to walk out that door he gives you one good reason to stay.

Notes: Thank you Anon for this request, I love writing for Dean so very much and to add a plus size gal in as well that just makes my day. I do hope you’ll enjoy this story. The song “Million Reasons” both version’s by Lady Gaga and Briana Buckmaster are inspiration for this story.

Tag list: Is open for all character’s and series I write for.

@spnmixedbingo

Dean Winchester list: @akshi8278

Just one good reason list: @chickensarentcheap

@impala1967dwinchester, @lilacprincessofrecovery, @superavengerpotterstar @jbbarnesgirl @sofreddie @slightlyobsessedwithissues

Ancient hinges creak wearily, firm hand pushing to hold open the heavy door letting you and Sam pass by. Fatigued sigh leaves slightly chapped lips, “It’s good to be home.” Taking the stairs down two at a time, tossing duffle bags towards the war table.

“Going soft on us old man?” Teasing quip tugging a smile from your lips as you drop down into the nearest chair. “Getting use to having that soft bed under your ass now huh?”

Scoffing, whiskey flecked green eyes settling on your plush frame, “Woman you forget we’re the same age first off.” Playfully stocking towards you, hands placed on the back of your chair to cage you in. “Second damn right that bed is magical, memory form baby, it remembers me,” poking your side, giggle leaving your lips body squirming in the seat.

“Stop,” pleading tone entering your voice, trying to evaded his questing hands trailing along your curvy sides. “Please,” puppy eyes begging for mercy, his hands aren’t willing to give. Though you can’t bring yourself to care seeing the weight, even for a moment, disappear from his countenance. Or the fact your sides aren’t the ticklish spot on your body, moving in the seat purely for show.

“Say your sorry for calling me old,” brow lifting watching you squirm under his hands. Wishing and not for the first time, he could have your soft body slotted against his harder frame. Knowing how well you fit just in a different way, one that hasn’t been enough for a long time.

Giggles burst from your lips, hands flat against the hard plains of his chest tugging on the dark blue t-shirt to distract from his plans. Pushing him away which had as much of an effect as a toy bulldozer did against a real brick wall. “Okay, okay I’m sorry, promise I’m sorry,” gasping for breath giving a hard tap to his shoulder.

“Now who’s giving up too soon?” Hands pause as his eyes catch yours for a long moment. Smiling face beaming up at him, heart beating triple time and not from assaulting you with his hands. Unable to resist the urge to touch your soft skin. Callused fingers come up to barely graze just under your left eye carefully capturing the eyelash on the tip of his forefinger from your cheek, “Make a wish.”

Leaning forward to place your lips close to the offered digit, eyes closed to blow a cold stream, eyelash fluttering away unseen. Keeping your libs lowered for a bit longer torn between what you truly desire and what’s within your grasp. Whiskey roughened voice breaking through your thoughts, sending a pleasurable shiver down your spine.

“What you wish for?” Swallowing hard, beloved eyes flutter open to ensnare his in there depths. Catching something simmering just below but disappears quicker than a jack rabbit running from a coyote.

Clearing yours throat, “Can’t tell ya Deano won’t come true if I do.” Giving a smile, pressing him backwards to raise and grab your duffle bag. Cell phone signaling an incoming text message making you pull the the black case wrapped piece of tech out of your front jeans pocket. Bright smile pulling your lips higher seeing just who’s messaged you. “Catch y’all later.”

“Someone good?” Sam speaks for the first time since coming home. Watching the scene between his brother and best friend. Wanting to strangle the both of you for not seeing what’s right in front of you.

Head snapping up from buried in your phone to stare wide eyed at Sam, “Yes, no I mean it’s nothing but could be something.”

“Will again?” Peripheral catching the dark scowl pass over Dean’s features before disappearing behind a mask of indifference.

Humming sweetly, sparkle lighting your eyes that go back to your phone for a moment. “He’s asking if we can meet up tomorrow for lunch, trying to choose where to eat.”

“What about,” clearing his throat to unclog the emotions choking off the air to breath. “That little diner in town? It’s your favorite and serves the best pie aside yours of course.”

Trapping and tugging your bottom lip between nibbling teeth, head shaking in the negative. “Nope he’s not fond of greasy foods.”

‘Plus that’s our spot,’ unbridled thought slides into your mind and you want to look over at Dean to remind him. But push those thoughts aside with a wave, heading towards the bedrooms carefully making sure not to bump into a wall while responding.

Green eyes follow till you round the corner, heart catching in his throat cursing himself for mentioning your diner. Knowing better yet wanting confirmation without asking if the spot is still special.

“You’re an idiot Dean,” shaggy brown head shaking as he to snaps up his duffle bag to head towards his room. “The foundation is already there start building before it cracks.”

“Thanks Riddler, just cause I’m Batman doesn’t mean you have to be so fucking vague.” Left with his thoughts and the growing feeling he’s loosing you to another man. Dean leaves his stuff lay where it landed glancing over the chair you vacated not five minutes ago then heading towards the kitchen. In need of something harder than beer but settling for the dark brew being the only alcohol in the bunker.

Opening the fridge door, grabbing a brew his fingers brush against the clear plastic container holding a single slice of pecan pie. Eyes unseeing, drifting back into memories when the Mark of Cain still burned into his skin.

2015

Charlie’s dead, beaten, murdered and left in a pool of her own blood. Every time his eyes close she’s there, expressionless sea green eyes staring blankly into his own. Never hearing her snarky retorts, sassy ways or those hugs she gave. Staring into cold brown sludge, hands gripping the mug a little too tightly. Not sure why he chose to come here of all places. When he could’ve started out on his hunt for the Styne’s. Deep down though he knows the reason right as the little bell signals someone’s entered the small family owned diner. Knowing exactly who and trying to ready himself for your present.

Never ready for how your soft fingers brush along his temple, settling on his shoulder for a moment while you slide into the worn pleather covered booth. Trailing those gentle fingers down his black and grey plaid covered arm. Tugging one hand from around the ceramic cup to intertwine your fingers. Head coming to rest on his shoulder, no words just comfort in a time when he needs it most.

“You shouldn’t be here,” dark with hints of gravel and kissed with pain in the tone. Whiskey flicked green obits focus, for the first time on something besides the cup in his hands, landing on the top of your head.

Shrugging, “Where else should I be Dean?” Looking up at him sorrowful eyes meeting right when your other palm comes up to brush moisture from his cheek. Unnoticed tears sliding down cool cheeks, “You’re my best friend there’s no place I’d rather be then right here helping you.”

“You could get killed,” the very through twists his heart till almost bursting. Brings bile to rise in the back of his throat, slithering through his system to settle unpleasantly in the pit of his stomach. It’s one thing to loose Charlie a heavy casualty. But you, Dean isn’t sure he’d come back from the dark path he’d follow for vengeance.

Soft sad smile turns your lips barely upward, “Not gonna happen I have my knight in shining Impala to keep me safe.”

“I couldn’t keep Charlie safe how can I…”

Shaking your head, finger placed over his kissable lips, “You’ve given me a million reasons already Dean Winchester and I don’t believe a single one of them.” Resting your foreheads together a moment, tenderness skating across your veins for the man beside you, “You might not believe it but your a good man.”

Pie filled plate slides across scared formica table top, metal fork clattering against the ceramic pushed in front. “More coffee,” sweet feminine voice floats from beside you.

Nodding, “Please, sugar and cream too.” Giving her a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes feeling Dean stir beside you.

“Black like my soul you know that sweetheart,” slightly chapped lips brush your cheek. A simple thank you for this act of kindness he feels undeserving of. If he hadn’t already been head over heels in love with you this sweet gesture would’ve sealed the deal.

Breathless gasp parts your lips as you turn finding Dean closer almost invading your space. Leather, motor oil and Irish Spring tickle your nose, eyes locking with those agony drenched obits, making another gasp exist your lungs. Heartache rocketing through your body, colliding with anger directed at the Styne’s.

“Eat your pie Winchester we’ll talk about that soul of yours later after dealing with the Styne’s.”

Heart freezing at the mention of the murdering family, “No,” rougher than intended, Dean grabs your chin twisting your face towards his. Rage hot and potent flaring through those beautiful greens. “No you will stay with Sam I’ll deal with them myself…”

“Dean you can’t be serious…” grabbing his wrist, pleading in your eyes for him to listen. Loosing Charlie splintered your heart, counting her as the sister you’ve never had. Her blood demanding revenge for the grievous act. But loosing Dean would kill you, knowing you never would come back from that agony.

“I am, deadly so. You try and sneak along I’ll toss that sexy ass outta Baby faster than you can pray to Castiel.”

Snorting, pulling your chin from his grasp, “You couldn’t lift me Winchester and you can’t stop me…” but the look he gives you does. Any farther flow of words halt in there bid to tumble out of your mouth.

“No I can’t,” callused palms cup your cheeks keeping you in place. Searching your eyes and making sure you understood, “I don’t want you to come with me Y/N. If there’s anytime to listen its now. I’ve lost one sister I didn’t want.” Bitting those words out to keep from speaking the others which threaten to pour from his being. “I can’t loose you,” resting your foreheads together again.

Nodding, trying to keep yourself from rubbing your cheek into his palm or worse press your lips against his. Lying to yourself isn’t something you normally do and you wouldn’t start now with the realization you were in love with your best friend and worried your going to loose him to the all consuming darkness.

You're giving me a million reasons to let you go

You're giving me a million reasons to quit the show

You're giving me a million reasons

Give me a million reasons

Giving me a million reasons

About a million reasons

Present

Downing the last of his long neck, drawing patterns over the hardwood table underneath with the condensation from the bottle. Eyes trained on that single slice of pie you’d bought him weeks ago.

“I wouldn’t eat that if I were you D,” mirth filled voice floats towards him before you reach his side in body.

Hand coming into view grabbing for the container to toss it out. But Dean’s quicker, “If you value your life, you’ll unhand my pie,” thick fingers circle your wrist pulling your plush body down beside him. “It’s not nice to steal a man’s pie woman,” keeping his tone light, playful and away from the looming fate he knows will visit upon his person once you figure out Will is the man you truly want. Deserving of your light, and laughter, the sweetness, of your beauty that Dean only hopes the other man will appreciate.

Gasping in mock outrage, “Who me?” Hand to heart trying to keep the laughter from your tone. “I would never deprive you of pie Deano. But I would that slice since I think it’s become a science experiment.”

Narrowing his eyes towards the offending sweet dessert, “It is not.” Poking twice before pulling the pie forward for a closer inspection. Musical laughter meeting his ears, smothering the smirk threatening to bloom over his lips. “Okay so maybe your right,” turning his pouting face towards you.

“Course I am,” giving him a wink then standing to toss the ruined sweets out. Pausing by the panty, you peek in unaware Dean’s watching you from his seat.

Teasing sway to your generous hips has his eyes tracking every movement. Bitting the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning at how temping you look. Thick thighs encased in blue denim jeans feet bare from wearing those steal toed Dr. Martins during hunts. Body stretching upwards, soft cotton baby blue tank top riding up to bare a silver of delicate skin to his eyes. Your fingers barely snag the sugar container’s edge, pulling it down to clasp against your ample chest.

Chastising himself for the erotic thoughts flipping through his mind on a single film reel. “What exactly are you doing sweetheart?” Carefully keeping his lower half away from your line of sight. Lest you find out the problem currently tenting his jeans, teeth gritting to stop himself from acting on all those thoughts.

“Never you mind Dean Winchester,” tossing over your shoulder, checking for vanilla extract, light syrup, and butter from the fridge. Last stop the freezer mentally trying to remember if you there's a pie shell left or would need to make one. Hoping for at least a single, since checking the flour stock and coming up almost empty. “Start a list for me please and put flour on it,” setting the three ingredients in your hands down. Turning back to open the metal door to peer into the freeze, swaying slighting to a song running through your head. A triumphant “Yes,” exists your lips, a little dance of excitement upon finding the last shell.

Damn near swallowing his tongue so entranced by your movements gulping different words back down to keep from making a total fool of himself. As he utters, “Not till I know exactly what your making over there Betty Crocker.”

“Resorting to blackmail now?” Brow arched, unconsciously licking your lips slowly. Unaware of Dean watching the path it takes across your pump bottom lip, tucking it between indenting teeth.

For distraction purposes, Dean pulls his phone from the front pocket of his jeans. Bringing up the list app a suggestion to simplify things you gave him months back. Forcing himself to focus on the small screen in his hands instead of the woman currently dancing around the kitchen. Pulling bowls, pots and pans out, one chance glance has an inaudible groan vibrating through his chest at the sight of your plush ass. Bent over shifting through sheet pans knowing which you look for as arousal flares to life so potent Dean turns quickly hiding his reacting. Planting his face in the palms of his hands, elbows bent to catch the weight. Fingers digging into eye sockets to use the pain and banish the thoughts from reappearing.

Frowning at his actions you come over after putting the pan on the counter. Fingers running through his hair, scraping the scalp with short nails. Pleased smile at the groan you pull from his lips as he rubs his head into your palm like a little puppy. “Something wrong Dean?” Worry dancing through the cadence of your voice other hand coming to rest on his shoulder.

“Fine,” head popping up, forcing your fingers to slide out of his hair. Taking a chance to glance up into your worried eyes. Underserving of your soft touch searing his skin. An itch to run from our presence skitters across his veins. “I’m fine sweetheart just tired.”

Searching his face, those whiskey flecked green eyes so unlike the blue-greens of Will’s, catching something hiding in those deep depths he’s trying to hide. Never fooled by words, always inspecting his actions and those little tells partially concealed though you know them all too well. “You’re covering something up Winchester I’ll get it out of you one way or another,” patting his cheek and stepping away.

‘I don’t want you to go on that date,’ on the tip of his tongue poised to leave his lips he keeps smashed together burying those feelings to not ruin this chance you have at an apple pie life. The very thought tears his heart, rendering another hole in the punched out organ. Though it’s his own fault for giving you a million reasons to keep that boundary line in place. Tip toeing almost across a few times, but always toeing the line keeping himself in check. Head snapping around when something hard hits the back of his head, scowl in place though it’s more playful than menacing. “Did you just…” glancing towards the floor to find a lone pecan on the ground behind him. Head tilted to the side, eyes narrowed on your face, which is the total opposite of his holding a sweetly innocent look concealing the trouble he knows you’ll cause. “Seriously a pecan? That could’ve done damage Babe Ruth.”

Eyes rolling, snort issuing from your up turned lips, “I don’t know what you speak of Dean I’m just here making a pie minding my own business. Can’t help it if a pecan has it out for you.”

“Possessed it must be,” voice pitched in a poor imitation of Master Yoda, getting a boo hiss from your general direction. “Though something tells me a certain someone threw the poor helpless nut.”

Shrugging, face neutral a picture of indifference with hands on your wide hips ingredients spread out over the counter. “Stop calling yourself names Dean it’s not nice.” Bottom lip trapped for a second to keep from giggling at the way he’s looking towards you.

Enjoying this moment of normalcy you’ve managed to capture in these dark and dangerous times. Thoughts skittering towards Will, if he’s able to put up with the hunters life style? Former Marine, Will knows so little of what truly goes bump in the night making you worry he wouldn’t feel at ease. It’s the reason you’ve hesitated each time he’s asked you out. Not wanting to drag someone else into a life of blood and death. Persistence and patience paid off when you finally agreed on a dinner date for tomorrow night. One your actually looking forward to.

But then you glance towards Dean, seeing the smile grace those soft looking lips, shinning in his whiskey flecked green orbs for the first time in months and you hesitate. Would you want to leave this life for a man who wouldn’t understand you not fully anyway? Or stay and remain the best friend till a hunt takes one of you out? Could you truly leave your home with the Winchesters, with Dean?

His voice breaks through the your thoughts, ruthful chuckle echoing through the room, “Haha sweetheart stop trying to be John Candy it ain’t workin for ya,” bending to scoop up the tossed nut a memory filters through his mind. Opening a wound he thought long since closed over soaked in whiskey and women who’s names he’s forgotten. Shaking the thought away to ask, “You gonna chunk a nut at your boyfriend tomorrow night too? Or is that reserved for me?”

Not sure why he’s even asking or teasing you about it or the fact there’s a bite to the tone. He shouldn’t care about a simple date, yet the thought twists his gut smile slipping from his lips as he looks down at the pecan in hand. Unwillingly letting those images fill and play before his eyes.

If I had a highway, I would run for the hills

If you could find a dry way, I'd forever be still

But you're giving me a million reasons

Give me a million reasons

Giving me a million reasons

About a million reasons

December 2011

Run down two room shack a nicer way of putting it truly, you think while pulling up outside next to Baby’s sleek black side. Hands gripping the steer wheel till knuckles hurt and you can focus again through the haze of tears spilling down your cold cheeks. Still trying to grasp the fact Bobby Singer legendary hunter, go to lore man, and surrogate father, dead by a bullet from Dick Roman’s gun. Itching for vengeance you try to quell for another time when you can let all the anger out. For right now you knew he needed you more than any strategy planning or revenge thought.

Remembering Sam’s voice shaking, laced with pain, peppered with rage but above all coated in sadness you could hear over the phone lines. Never hesitating to drop the case — for now — breaking speed limit in the need to reunite with your boys. You’d do anything for family even those who weren’t by blood. Learning a long time ago that family doesn’t end with the DNA flowing through your veins.

Shaking those thoughts from your mind and existing the car only to lean back in and grab the bags from the passenger side. Standing to full height to peer over the top locking eyes with those anger clouded greens. “No I didn’t bring you anything Winchester so don’t bother asking.” Trying to lighten the situation with poorly used humor.

Words fail to leave thinned lips as you pass by, hand holding the creaking barely held together door open for you. Following behind his voice scratchy from no use, “Sam call you?”

“Of course silly why wouldn’t he?” Placing the bags on what could pass for a pile of rubble instead of an island countertop. Turning to face him cataloging each feature, the stone set of his jaw, shoulders tight with tension, eyes those beautiful normally vibrate whiskey flecked greens mute with anguish he tries to hide.

Shrugging, shoulders dropping forward with no will to keep them up, “He shouldn’t have your needed else where Y/N.”

“Bullshit Winchester,” moving with purpose to stand in his personal space. “Bobby was just as much a father to me as to you. There’s no other place I’d rather be than here, for a different reason yes but I’m not leaving so suck it up buttercup.”

Catching the flash of anger tinging the deep greens whether directed at you or himself you’re not sure. “We already salted and burned his body, there’s no reason for you to stay.” Turning away from your softening eyes knowing your going to try and reason with him. Make him see he’s not responsible for what happened.

“I know,” two simple words make him pause and turn back. “I didn’t come to say goodbye to Bobby, I came for you.” Taking one step closer arms wrapping around his slumped shoulders bringing him into the shelter of your embrace. Steady hands running the length of his stiff back, imparting your warm, trying to give comfort knowing he’s unaccepting of such sympathies.

Brows furrowing, frown tipping his lips downward, fists clinching at his sides, Dean tries to keep himself from giving into the solace he so easily could find in your embrace. Warmth sinking into his skin through the layers of clothing he wears, tingling his skin, quickening his pulse.“Why?”

“You need me, your not listening to Sam or Castiel talking about going off to track Roman down yourself,” spitting the Leviathan’s name out like chewed to long gum. Head resting against his strong chest feeling the slightly erratic beat of his heart against your ear.

Back stiffening, “I don’t need you to tell me what to do Y/N I can make that decision on my own.” Low growl rattling through his chest as he pulls from your arms and steps from the warmth evaporating from his body. “You should leave.”

“And get yourself killed?” Hands slamming to your wide hips glaring daggers at your best friend. “What happened wasn’t your fault Dean. Any one of us could’ve taken that bullet, Bobby knew the risks of the mission, accepted them and died…” swallowing the tears threatening to slip from your eyes. “A hero,” ignoring his last words, reaching out to try and take his hand only to have him pull away like you’ve burned him.

“Don’t, don’t try to reason this with me I know better,” turning his back to head for the wall covered in papers trying to figure out just what Dick Roman’s up too.

Shaking your head knowing he’s hurting but not wanting to voice those feelings, to make him appear weak. With a sigh leaving your frowning lips you move silently beside him looking over the wall of weird trying to piece together how everything connects. Brushing your hand against his, pinkie trailing to catch what you think is his forefinger. Wrapping the little finger tightly around his you lean over, “I’m right here when you’re ready Dean, I’m not leaving nor letting go.”

“You should,” not bothering to turn and face you. Memories of Lisa and Ben filter through his thoughts along with Bobby, his father and what he can remember of his mother. “I’m poison and get everyone around me killed.” He doesn’t want to add you to the growing list. Rather wanting you to leave and find a different path for your life.

Tugging on his finger to wrap the middle and forefinger with your ring and pinkie fingers, “Then Sam and I are the antidote to your poison.” Giving a soft sad smile to his side profile, wrapping him up into your arms. Resting your head on his shoulder, voice a gentle whisper of breath upon his cheek and neck,“Those reasons keep tallying up Winchester we’ll hit a million before long.”

Reminding you both of a long ago discussion between the two of you in Bobby’s junk yard while still teenagers. Before angels and demons, vampires thought long dead and ancient Leviathan brought back from the pit of purgatory. When you made the packed to never fall for each other and always remain best friends. To never let go no matter how dire the situation, you’d have each other’s back.

Evaporating memories of long ago, you speak softly still resting your head on his shoulder. “You work on this mosaic of papers you have plastered over the walls. I have a pie to bake,” not giving it much thought you quickly press a kiss to his stubbled cheek then turn to head back towards the passable kitchen area.

Tingles dance over his skin for longer than he wishes, wanting to suppress those feelings bubbling up to try and consume him. Thinking he could bury them under the mounting pain and self hated. Yet, the warmth of your arms, soft press of your lips, your words register and sink into his brain Dean turns to watch you work unable stop a few of those feelings from dancing around his heart. Single thought shocking him in its stark contradiction to his current state of mind, Dean Winchester self proclaimed ladies man has fallen in love with his best friend. A sucker punch to the gut making him gasp and reel that silent declaration in. Stuffing it under the right full emotions of anger and pain. Letting them tap dance through his veins instead, something much safer for the both of them. Something he could understand and deal with.

I bow down to pray

I try to make the worst seem better

Lord, show me the way

To cut through all his worn out leather

I've got a hundred million reasons to walk away

But, baby, I just need one good one to stay

Head stuck in a cycle, I look off and I stare

It's like that I've stopped breathing, but completely aware

'Cause you're giving me a million reasons

Give me a million reasons

Giving me a million reasons

About a million reasons

Present

“He’s not my boyfriend yet Dean,” eyes rolling as you turn to melt the butter in a small sauce pan. Though there is a part of you wishing he could one day fill the role unless a single good reason can change your mind comes your way.

“But you want him too?” Words muttered through presses together teeth. Hating the fact he’s letting something so trivial effect him in such a way. You’ve had other boyfriends, one night stands he’s had to sit through yet this one feels different. As if he could truly loose you this time and those thoughts scare the shit outta him the most. Because yes you’re his best friend for longer than he can remember but above that you’re the woman who gets him, argues with him, sets his ass straight when he’s being stupid and above all or so he hopes, loves him warts and all.

Hands pause at his question looking into the melting golden liquid bubbling silently remembering to flick the tiny knob and turn the heat off. While your head screams to say yes but it’s a little small voice beating quickly beneath your ribcage making you pause. Clearing your throat to gather what thoughts you could from their scattered places. You’ve always spoke with honesty to Dean, unless circumstances dictated other wise, and you weren’t about to change now. Through you wouldn’t turn to face him when you did wanting to keep from seeing his eyes. Finding the reason for his questions in those green depths you’ve fallen for though never spoken the feelings. “Yes, he could…” swallowing to coat your dry throat to spit out the words rotting your stomach. “I could have a chance at happiness with Will, Dean. Why do you even ask?”

“I don’t want to loose you,” ‘Because I love you,’ on the tip of his tongue to tell you, give voice and life to his true feelings. Wanting you to stay and forget about those million other reasons he’s let slip between the cracks in your relationship.

Frozen in place, hands gripping the countertop beside the stove. “You wouldn’t loose me Dean I’d still go on hunts with you, I’d stick around,” lies tasting bitter on your tongue, heart beating triple time wondering if he’ll pick up on the dishonesty your speaking. Always feeling he’d never see you as anything other than his best friend. Never the type of woman to draw his attention, too soft and plush in places most men wouldn’t want and you didn’t pine for a man who’s given you a million reasons to walk away. So you shoved those feelings, the love you held back trying to make it work with other men. To find the one who’d surpass Dean destroying your feelings for the green eyed hunter, giving you the one reason to stay and belong. So why now did he have to put doubts in your mind? Why ask these questions when in years past he’d brush other men away as nothing more than a passing fancy?

Silently Dean stands slowly making his way towards you, taking in the ridged stance of your plush form. Hands itch to wrap around your thick waist and haul you against his chest. Pausing right beside you, brushing his fingers against yours too hook what he thinks is your forefinger with his pinkie. “You and I both know things wouldn’t stay the same between us sweetheart. He’d find a way to take you away from me,” praying you won’t pull away Dean turns to stare at your profile. Taking in the beauty he’s catalogued thousands of times, the curve of your lips when you smile, slope of your nose, eyes bright with laughter or spiting fire when angry usually at him. Softness of your cheeks under his palms the times he’s actually got to cup and caress the skin.

“We’ll remain best friends Dean that’ll never change,” gathering the courage to turn and look into his eyes. Catching the sadness coating those beloved greens making your heart ache. Tongue slipping out to tug back your bottom lip between your teeth indented them to keep from asking the question your heart demands.

Of its own accord Dean’s free hand comes up to brush over your cheek, cupping the soft skin, fingers spread from apple to jaw wanting so badly to draw you in and kiss those tempting lips. “I want you happy Y/N and if it’s possible out of this life, been wanting that for you since Bobby,” sliding his hand to your chin to pinch the end with his thumb and forefinger tipping your face up to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. “I’ll miss you sweetheart.”

Eyes lock with stormy greens after he pulls back, soft gasp parting your lips at the simple touch, words sounding like a goodbye instead of their usual see ya later. Grappling for words to say, questions to ask, trying to figure out what’s going on, and why now. But he’s gone before your brain can catch up with your mouth, and your turning to rush after, seeing his back disappear around the corner.

Feet finally responding to command as you quickly follow stopping at the doorway, “Give me one good reason.” Praying he’ll listen and stop, hoping it’s not too late. “Stop giving me all these reasons to leave.”

Back ridged but his mind a flurry of thoughts and answers, more questions than he could shake a stick at. Only one reason comes to mind, “Good reason to what?”

Traveling the short distance to take his hand intertwining your fingers with his, needing him to turn around and look at you. Needing the connection while stating, “Give me a good reason to stay Dean to not go tomorrow night.”

“I can’t,” partly wanting to flinch from your touch, to tug his hand free, and partly wanting to sink into your familiar embrace. Soak in the peace he always finds in your arms, to bath in your warmth and possibly bask in your love. But Dean wouldn’t be selfish he’d let you go even if it meant killing his own heart and soul.

The urge to punch him grows strong but your refrain from using violence, “Why not? Too scared? Or you just don’t care?”

The warmth of your hand disappears from searing into his palm, tingling those long nimble fingers, his eyes close knowing you’re walking away because of that millionth reason. Till the first brush of soft fingers tender in there touch upon his cheek. He gives in to the urge and rubs his slightly stubbled cheek into your palm. “If that’s you Sam, I’m gonna kick your ass dude,” ignoring your questions in favor of basking in your touch instead. Hearing the soft giggle from your lips brings a smile to his own. Eyes finally opening too stare into yours, almost doing a doubt take at what he sees in those beloved depths. “I don’t deserve you Y/N.”

“Stop giving me a million reasons Dean and give me the one that’ll make me stay,” imploring him with your touch, fingers tracing over his cheeks and jaw. Tracing his plush bottom lip with the pad of your thumb, “I just need one good reason.”

He’d find the situation funny if it’s anyone else standing in front asking the same question. Even Sam would get a chuckle from his lips, but you, his breath freezes, heart thumping wildly in equal measures of terror and excitement. The very thoughts running unrestrained in his mind scare the shit out of him, but only one truly feels right. Snaking an arm around your thick waist pulling you against his strong chest, fitting like missing puzzle pieces. His free hand coming up to cup your cheek, “I love you.”

Tears slip from their ducts barely held back till those three simple words spill from his mouth jump starting your heart and sending your emotions swirling. Warm palms cradle your wet cheeks, gun callused thumbs brush hot tears away, you spy the worry and fear your non response sparks. “Do you mean it?” Wanting clarification before handing your heart over to the very man who’s held it for so long.

Knowing what your asking Dean stops waiting and lowers his mouth to yours. That first touch of lips electricity shoots through you veins. Body responding quicker with arms going around his neck to pull him firmly against you not a wisp of space between your bodies. Fingers tangling in the short hairs at the back of his head while you slot your lips against his. Demanding and deep, a tangled dance of tongues. Clashing of teeth, a melding mouths and finding the right angles to draw those delicious moans from each of you. Till air becomes necessary and you break apart panting, “That answer your question sweetheart?”

“No,” smirking when his eyes narrow, “I wanna hear it again.”

No hesitation in speaking those three words, “I love you.” Groaning when your lips smash back to his. Stealing breath from his lungs and a moan from his chest, Dean walks you backward till your pressed against the cool tile wall. Lower pelvis holding your soft body in place so his hands can dance over your cotton covered plush form. Palm’s flat against your thick waist, slowly dragging them around and down to cup your generous ass. Squeezing firmly and making you gasp.

Using the opening as a way to work his tongue back into your mouth, delving in for another taste of your sweetness. Low groan existing when rearranging his mouth to fit differently and snag a gulp of air. Stubble abrading your chin in the most spectacular of ways. Pooling heat low in your belly and making your mind wander in other more salacious directions. Brought back from teetering on the deliciously desirable edge by a sharp bite, his teeth nabbing your bottom lip to tug, letting go with a wet pop. Breath fanning out over your heated cheeks. Eyes once closed now open and locked with yours a pleading undertone to the desire darkened greens.

Knowing what he wants to hear and unable to wait along, “I love you too Dean.” Heart bursting with unrestrained joy flooding your system and making you love drunk.

“Thank fucking God,” groaning, resting your foreheads together still trying to reign in the wild thumping of his heart. Your admission only serves to make the largest muscle spasm quicker. All his pent up emotions, desires and needs flowing to the surface, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from rushing into something too fast. Remembering it’s still fresh and new between the two of you a different path to the relationship already established in friendship.

Giggling softly, you cup both his cheeks, thumbs brushing along his skin, three days worth of stubble abrading your palms. “So,” teasing smirk pulling at your lips, “I better call Will huh?”

“For?” Trying to keep the bitter growl from escaping and giving away his feelings on the sore subject. Tugging your soft body back in place from your wiggles to side free, not ready to let you go just yet.

Sliding one hand down his chest to rest where you know his anti-possession tattoo resides. Tracing the edges with the tip of your finger over the black t-shirt he’s wearing, locking eyes with his, “Seems I’m a taken woman. Wouldn’t want to lead the poor guy on now would I?” Watching how those whiskey flecked greens darken, pushing his lower body deeper into your plush form. Barely heard as you try not to give away the whimper of need his body produces in your own, with his pressed so tightly. Cool concrete keeping you body temp from over heating for the moment.

“No,” clearing his throat leaning in to draw his nose over your jawline. Touring towards your ear, catching the lobe between his front teeth to tug. Low desire filled growl leaving his lips, followed by, “Tomorrow is another day sweetheart and right now you’ve got better things to do.”

Heading tipping over granting access to the parts of your neck he wants, trying to keep the shiver from rolling over your body. Heat flooding your veins sparking a need you’ve never felt with any of the other men you’d previously had relations with. “What,” licking your parched lips, “what better things Dean?” Praying it’s the same idea rolling around your head for the longest time.

Pausing in his mapping of your neck and shoulder with his lips, Dean raises his head to spear you with a heated look. “Me for starters sweetheart, that is of course…” uneasiness has him trailing off the first time in his life. The bitter taste of uncertainty coating his thoughts for a fraction of a second before your lips land back on his.

Teasingly soft presses, little ghost touches of your tongue, playfully dotting his cheeks, chin and forehead with your lips before brushing close to his ear. “Hey Dean,” smiling against his skin, tenderly pressing your lips just south of his ear. Nibbling the found patch of sensitive skin behind committing the spot to memory for later. Breath puffing out quicker feeling him shiver, knowing what the next words would invoke in Dean and his love for the movie. “You big stud. Take me to bed or lose me forever,” sultry tone added to the cadence.

His eyes close for a moment, heart swelling as you recite the words to one of his favorite movies. Marveling at the fact you’ve remembered the lines perfectly and Dean falls deeper in love with you if that’s possible.

The gentle caresses of your lips against his skin setting fire to his nerve endings, room in his jeans becoming a hot commodity as his shaft thickens and throbs. Finding the distraction almost too much while trying to recall the next line. Teasing giggles reach his ears that he replies to with a deep chuckle. Words coming back to him, “Show me the way home, honey.”

Reaching down to tug one hand from your ass, chuckling with a shake of your head when it doesn’t budge but squeezes the generous globe. Notching himself tighter into your body, smirk appearing as your eyes widen, gasp issuing from parted lips. Bitting the inside of your cheek to keep from giggling before the words can escape. “Is that a pickle in your pocket or you just happy to see me?”

“Oh sweetheart it’s a great big dill I can show ya,” flashing a smirk, both of you trying hard not to laugh.

“Preferably,” deep voice tinged with slight offense but liberally coated in amusement. “In your own room so the both of you aren’t bare ass naked in the hallway bumping like bunnies,” having rounded the corner towards the kitchen and catching the intimate embrace. “A vision I don’t want branded into my skull thank you very much,” Sam paused arms crossed in annoyance. Golden dotted green eyes dancing with mirth, catching the playfully scandalous expression cross your features. Glancing towards Dean who buries his face in your neck getting a deep chuckle from his brother.

Try as you might to keep from busting out laughing they just rolled out of your mouth as your eyes lock with Sam’s. Acting stoic but the smile tugging at his lips and the teasing flash through his eyes speak a different story. Only thing holding you up is Dean’s body still pressed heavily against your. The man in question glancing up first to look at you then over his shoulder towards Sam. “Don’t even start Sammy,” grumbling good-naturedly giving him a middle finger salute and the opening you need to slip from between his hard body and the wall. Teasing growl rumbling through his chest at the loss of your warmth. Dean reaches out to snag your arm but you manage to dance out of his reach, giggles echoing off the walls trailing behind your disappearing form.

“Wouldn’t dream of it Dean but Cas owes me fifty bucks,” patent Sam Winchester smirk sliding over his lips. Brow raised at his scoff, “Can’t believe I had a betting pot going?”

Watching you run off happy grin tipping his mouth upward, he looks back at Sam grin still in place. “Just can’t believe it’s with Cas. Rowena maybe, Jody, Claire, Alex and Donna fuck yes but Cas,” incredulous look stealing over his features for a few moments.

“Who say’s the bet’s not bigger than you think,” broad shoulders shrugging same smirk in place, Sam enters the kitchen on that note leaving Dean to stare wide eyed after his baby brother. “Matter of time, always just a matter of time,” laughter tinged voice exists the kitchen, unseen shake of his head at the mess left behind.

Stock still for a fraction of a second till soft giggles echo quietly down the hall, grin turning into full blown smile. Need rushing back through his veins in remembrance of your position just a few short moments ago. Low curse existing his mouth, Dean turns racing off to find which room you’re hiding in.

Nerves tingled through your body, worry interrupting thoughts/memories of short minutes ago. Hard press of his body against yours, warm moist breath fanning out over your skin sending tingles of a different kind to skitter across your veins. But now standing in Dean’s room trying to figure out where to lay or stand that would invoke images of sensuality. You look down at your bare feet toes wiggling against cold concrete. Up wards to thick jeans clad thighs, a baby blue tank top covering your torso, self consciousness went out the window decades ago. After the first serious injuries you suffered at the hands of a vengeful spirit had you damn near stripped naked in front of Dean. Confidence in face of adversity knowing he’s the only one for miles around to patch you up.

Now though is different, same confidence but wishing for sexier clothing something to entice and tease. Small snort issues from the depths of your body knowing damn well you had nothing of the sort in your possession. Flannels, tank tops, t-shirts and jeans hunter’s required staples along with the functional under garments you groan at remembering are mismatched at the present.

“Beautiful even in those rumpled clothing,” deep voice breaking through thoughts and making a squeak sound as you quickly turn to face the lazily leaning against the door jam hunter. Arms crossed over muscular chest, biceps straining the black t-shirt’s sleeves, “I meant what I said before Sammy interrupted us.”

Tugging your bottom lip back under indented top teeth turning to face him fully, “Which part?” Barely keeping the mirth from bubbling over, “That I should show you the way home or you have a big dill?” Easy going banter calming your nerves even the part about feeling ill-prepared clothing wise.

Tender infused whiskey fleck green eyes turn molten with each sweep of your body. “I love you,” words escape as eyes stay locked, Dean pushing away from the doorway. Booted foot catching the hardwood door and slamming it shut behind him. Stocking towards you as a lion would his prey, licking parched lips wanting to devour you. Hands fisting at his side though to keep from reaching out and doing just that incase it’s something your not ready for.

His breath froze upon seeing you walking around his room, something akin to relief floods his veins along with a sense of rightness. Sure you’ve come in hundreds of times to wake him from a nightmare or mornings, to barrow music and to talk. Yet, this time feels different giving your relationship changed moments ago. Catching the indecision clearly written in those beloved eyes that don’t focus on one place too long. For a moment Dean wishes he could read your thoughts but then having hunted and lived together for decades he picked up the situation and cues without having to know your thoughts.

Pleased hum breaks Dean from the wondering trail his thoughts took him on to spy the sweet smile gracing your lips. Hands positioned on your hips one cocked to the side as you stand there waiting expectedly. Restraining himself, Dean opens his palms to bring them up and cup your cheeks dragging you against him. Lips meeting in the tenderest of kisses that he keeps in place while speaking, “You want this, want me?”

Recognizing his vulnerability and what he’s asking with those simple words, arms wrap around his back fisting the shirt tightly to press the two of you together. Love saturated eyes burn into those greens you could drown in, “That’s my question Winchester stop stealing my lines.” Flattening one palm to slide up and into his hair. Pressing another kiss to his soft lips you’ve only imaged kissing till now. The reality so much better than any fantasy you ever came up with.

“Calling me a thief now sweetheart?” Using jokes to cover the fact he’s searching for the right words. Flustered and frustration slither through his veins in a combination Dean’s not accustom, words stammering of unintelligible nature tumble from his mouth. The feel of your blunt nails sending pleasurable shivers down his spine.

Nodding, craning your neck back a few inches but keeping your eyes locked, “You stole my lines and my heart Dean so yes that would make you a thief.” Hand sliding over his back now and settling into the back pocket of his jeans, “I also meant what I said back there.” Catching the cocked brow you elaborate, “Take me to bed Dean I’m tired of waiting, I want to know how it feels to have you inside me.”

Soft groan issues from parted lips. Wanting to act on your words so damn badly his body vibrates with barely contained desire. Forehead coming to rest against yours, strong hands sliding too loosely wrap around and caress your neck. “You know I’m not great at relationships. I could seriously fuck things up.”

“I know but then so could I,” any doubts or insecurities evaporating into the ether with every look.

Callused fingers brush over your bare shoulders sending sensual shivers cascading down your body. Rubbing your thighs together for added friction with the heated look Dean’s fixing you with. Boosting your confidence to step back his hands drop to the side as you own pinch at the hem of your tank top. Slowly pulling it from your body, letting it drop with a barely heard whisper.

“Fucking hell sweetheart,” resolve snapping, reaching for your hips and tugging you back against him harder than intended. Lips sealing quickly to swallow the gasp existed parted lips Dean takes advantage of and slips his tongue inside the warm cavern of your mouth.

There’s nothing gentle about this kiss, it’s all teeth and tongues, fighting desperately for dominance. Pulling groans from the depths of Dean’s soul as he pulls whimpers and moans from your own. Till air becomes needed though it doesn’t stop your mouth from trailing a hot path across his stubbled jaw. Nibbling towards that little patch behind his ear to flick the tip of your tongue against. Smirking at the shutter rolling through his body, fingers dancing a rhythm over his shirt covered torso. Hem reached you tug twice to which he nods reaching behind him grasping and pulling the garment off to join yours.

Hands, palms flat immediately going to ghost over his rippling tummy. Muscle covered soften causing all moisture to pool south, clit throbbing almost painfully. Sure you’ve seen him bare chested before this time it’s different. For pleasure instead of patching him up. Drawing desired groans rather than pain filled. “I know Sam would abject but I so wouldn’t mind seeing you walk around shirtless.”

Full belly chuckle leaves Dean’s lips, “Sweetheart don’t talk about other men right now especially not my brother.” Possessive hands landing on your naked plush waist, fingers spanning the distance and gripping the flesh in his palm. Dreams having nothing on the real woman in his palms.

“Just stating facts sir nothing more,” trailing your fingers over the slightly hair roughen skin. Brushing pebbled nipples from the cool air and your proximity. Reserving a gasp when you lean forward to lap with the tip of our tongue and nip at the peaked point. Glancing to lock eyes as you switch and give the same attention to its twin giving the same attention getting a hiss from your actions. Dragging you lips upward to trace his tattoo with kisses.

Molten green eyes drinking in the sight of your lips on his skin, shooting desire straight to his cock. Throbbing need demanding attention no matter how good your soft lips feel against his body. “Baby girl,” groaning at the nip you place, eyes close to compose himself. Flying open as air cool brushes his skin inside of the shared heat of both your bodies. Mesmerized by the way you reach back to unclasp your bra, pushing your lushes breasts out teasing his vision, salivating for a taste of your skin.

He steps forward crowding into your space backing you into the bed till the back of your calves hit the edge. Wrapping his arms around your plush form to brush hands away and do the task himself. Finger tips skimming the edges of both straps till reaching the top at your shoulders and drawing them down. Keeping his eyes locked with yours while pulling the garment from your pliant body tossing it behind him. Eyes flicking down on a groan, licking his dry lips at the beauty displayed for his ravenous gaze.

“Lay down for me sweetheart,” meeting your lust blown orbs with his own. “I wanna see you in my bed,” biting off a whimper when you drop onto the edge. Bountiful breasts bouncing teasingly as he watches you slide backwards towards the head board. Hands going to the button of your jeans, low growl pausing your nimble fingers. “That’s for me to do baby girl, just,” swallowing harshly as he looks you over. Partially naked spread out over his bed picture perfect memory for those times when the darkness tries to steal this happiness. “Give me a moment to drink you in.” Unable to decide where to look first, “So fucking gorgeous.” Toeing off his boots, hands going to his own jeans your shaking head pausing the movements.

“I get the same pleasure,” licking your lips slowly while raising up on your elbows. Beckoning him with two crooked fingers, hand resting with the palms up beside your plush body, “Get up here before I get impatience and take matters into my own hands.”

Declaration making him pause a moment low growl rumbling from deep with in his chest. As desire blown green meet yours, smirk gracing his handsome features. One knee comes to rest on the mattress Dean leans forward keeping eyes locked while pressing a kiss to your ankle. Grinning, feeling the quiver that runs through your body. “You wouldn’t dare sweetheart,” adding his other knee to spread your legs and slowly fit his body between.

“Shall we make a bet Winchester?” Using your free foot to brushing the nearest thigh with the flat. Sliding towards the very noticeable bulge busting the seams of his jeans, toes teasing the thick ridge before pressing the flat of your foot against him. Rubbing the length slowly pleased when a growl echos the room.

Grabbing that foot tickling the pad enjoying the way you squirm and giggle. Taking the opportunity to move fully between your legs. “About that bet hum,” fingertips drawing an invisible path of fire down the middle your body. Bracing then both arms on either side of your shoulders hovering over you, warm breath fanning out over your cheek he nuzzles with stubbled chin. Pulling a whimper from your gasping lips.

Of there own accord, your hands slide up the strength of his arms and biceps to clasping fingers together around the back of his neck. Left leg draped over his waist to pull him against your pelvis, breathless moan parting your lips at the contact of his hard length pressing into your dripping center. “I don’t want slow or gentle Dean,” head tipping back to give access to his questing lips that find your wildly thumping pulse, sucking a mark into the soft skin. “We have all night for that I just…” words caught upon seeing whiskey flecked green eyes dilated almost pitch with desire. Cheshire Cat grin tugging kiss swollen lips upward.

“Just what sweetheart?” Humming, brushing your lips together before returning to his last spot. One hand dragging over your soft body cupping the generous globe massaging gently feeling the nipple peak against his palm. Teasingly circling the stiff nub with the tip of his index finger before giving a sharp pinch and making you gasp out. Back arching at the pleasurable pain skittering across your veins.

Grasping what’s left of your mind to try and form coherent words, body responding instead pressing your chest into his large hand. Nails score down his back, one completing the journey to give his ass a tight squeeze. As the other detours to between your intimately pressed body. Happy to find enough space to slot your palm against his erection, cupping his throbbing length and giving short little strokes. Smile blooming with a breathless groan against your collarbone where Dean’s forehead currently rests. Nimble fingers pop the small metal disk, pulling the zipper tab down to slip the hand inside. Warmth enveloping palm feeling him twitch has you slowly licking your lips at the mire thought of getting to taste him.

“You’re killing me Y/N,” rutting his hips into your hand, mouth coming back to claim yours in a punishingly bruising kill. Tangling your tongues together, nipping a little harder on your bottom lip than meaning to but the accompanying moan flows straight to his cock. Making him twitch against your palm that has slowed with the distraction of the kiss.

Breaking for air, panting while trying to form and speak the right words, “We’re both a little over dressed Dean.” Pulling your hand from the tight confines of his jeans, using the one at his ass to help pull them and his boxers down only stopping when you couldn’t reach anything passed his knees. Sigh of relief exists his parted lips making you giggle and press a kiss to his chin. “Feel better?” Bottom lip trapped and nibbled on as your fingers brush his length. Finding your fingers barely wrap around the girth while to stroke, palm sliding over precum leaking head. Hips thrust forward at the sensations tingling down his back gathering low in his belly.

“Now who’s over dressed?” Mumbling the words against your skin. Dean regretfully brushes your hand aside grinning at the annoyed huff that leaves your lips. “Ah sweetheart put that sexy pout away you’ll get a chance to taste me soon enough. Cause if you keep using that soft hand on my cock I’ll cum faster than I want.”

His words presenting so many thoughts to run through your mind only cut off when wet warm heat engulfs your right nipple. Tongue flicking quickly over taut peak, blunt teeth nipping then soothing over with the tip of his tongue. Switching to the twin leaving both sloppy wet and tight, gleaming in the low light of his room. Worshipping at the temple of your body with kisses pressed into your tummy, running scared callused hands over your skin in silent reverence. Eyes taking in very inch Dean sits back on his knees between your parted legs. Tracing his knuckles along the seam of your jeans covered cunt, making you jolt against him.

Pausing to strip your jeans and panties from your body, tossing them and kicking his own off to land somewhere on the floor. Raising up on elbows to finally get a chance to look at him in all his naked glory. Tracing each divot of scars over a broad chest, passing over the middle to admire thick bowed legs spread wide. Lips licked slowly upon landing on his ridge cock, slightly curved and resting against his lower belly. Palm itching for a touch, mouth watering for that taste. “You’re beautiful Dean,” words whispered so low your unsure if he’s really heard them.

Heat blooms over his cheeks at your admission, looking your fill of his adonis body. Dean returns the admiration. Tracing the features of your beloved face, staring a little too long at your heaving breasts, soft tummy he wants to nibble on at some point. Thick thighs he can’t wait to have wrapped around his waist once he’s buried deep inside your wet heat. The very though has his eyes dropping between your parted legs, glistening folds beckoning him forward. Caught in that tempting trance, Dean slides back between your legs. Brushing his lips just above your mound and receiving a whimper from you. Locking eyes, “I think you got that backwards sweetheart, it’s you who’s beautiful.” Dipping to run the thick flat of his tongue through your folds, humming at the tangy sweetness exploding over his taste buds.

Hips cantering against his mouth, your own letting a deep moan free as one hand slides down to card through his short brown locks. Tugging the strands getting a groan to vibrate against your cunt while his talented tongue dances through your soaked folds. Torturing your clit with ghosted touches, one arm wraps around our thigh spreading you open. As the other slips a finger inside your wet channel, finding you squeezing and tight, garnering a deep groan of arousal from the man between your lips.

“Dean,” voice wrecked and he’s barely touched you. When he doesn’t answer or budge from his sensual assault on your cunt. Lips having formed a perfect O around your clit, tongue flicking kitten licks to the tiny nerve filled nub. Pleased with he whimpers and whines that filter through his desire filled mind.

Resulting in you tugging on his hair harder, back arching as a small shock rocks through your body, tingling your belly when he bites carefully on your clit. “Dean please,” eyes rolling back into your head at the added second finger. Crooked and pressing into the little spongy spot you’ve never had anyone touch. Ripping a half scream from the hidden depths of your soul.

Smug smirk tugging over slick wet lips, stubbled chin coming to rest just above your mound. Watching as you heave a breath, breasts catching his eyes for a moment till you tug again. Fingers anything but still as they thrust and scissor you open, working you carefully to fit his slightly above average length not wanting to hurt you. “Yes sweetheart?” Licking his lips from your slick.

Free hand coming up to cover your heated face, “Don’t sound so smug,” gasping the last word when his thumb brushes over your clit making you jump and wither. Heat spreading from that special spot in your belly, where the tight coil starts to wind higher. Thick thighs tremble with each sensation Dean draws out of you. “Need you, please, please.”

Caressing your quivering walls with the gun callused pads of his fingers, massaging your clit as you plead. Breath chocked out on another moan, chest heavy, heat coating your skin as you wither under him. “Ah but I can’t help myself sweetheart you don’t know what seeing you like this does to me.”

Gathering what little strength you have in your limbs to reach down and cup his cheeks, thumbs brushing over the skin under his eyes. “Why don’t you get up here and show me Dean?” Voice wreaked yet a tender undertone rides through the cadence.

Pressing a single kiss to the pulsing little clit, giving once last flick making your squirm and Dean to chuckle. Slowly pulling his fingers out, stroking twice more your hips chasing the indescribable ecstasy winding its way through your veins. Only to have the tingles dance slower, the coil start to unwind as frustrated huff leaving your gasping lips.

Taking advantage to plunder your mouth, greedy for a sample of the wet cavern and a tongue tango that draws out a sharp moan of need. Especially tasting your tangy sweetness from his lips, sucking the bottom between your teeth to nibble. While reaching blindly over to the nightstand, damn near yanking the whole draw on the ground in his haste. “Give me a sec woman,” huffing out he rolls slightly off you. The noise drawing a giggle out causing him too stiffen, glancing back with a playful glare to refocus on finding his prize.

Using the opportunity to nose the thick column of his neck, taking in the scent of whiskey, leather and motor oil, peppered now with sex and sweat. Addicting and unable to help yourself from sink your teeth into his skin gently but hard enough to leave a small soon to purple mark. Soothing over with the flat of your tongue catching sight of the pause your actions caused. The aroused moan that leaves his lips, head resting on the bed to try and gather himself from your onslaught.

“Something wrong Dean?” Nipping just below his jaw, tracing your fingers along his side. Index finger swirling through the spares, crisp hairs leading a path to what you’ve craved to have inside you for a long time. Nimble fingers surround the base forming a perfect circle that can’t close but tightens. Stroking his length teasingly slow. In return receiving a warning growl — the sound devastating your senses making you throb — from the man currently fishing for a condom and growing frustrated when his fingers come up empty. “Shall I stop my love? Am I distracting you?” Whispered words breathed into his ear, lips kissing the shell. Knowing damn well just how tormenting you are to his senes and body. If his twitching cock your hand currently wrapping around stroking and the shallow breaths are any indication.

“Ha,” triumphant shout of accomplishment, Dean rolls back over you pressing bodies together and into the mattress. “Now where were we?” Flashing that teasing smirk with a hard rutting of his hips against your dripping core and tight fisted hand.

“What to you so long stud?” Biting back the giggles when he fixes you with a scowl.

Breath hissing out through clinched teeth when taking your hand off his cock, bringing those wickedly wonderful fingers to his lips and sucking on each one with a short nibble. Placing the open condom pack in your palm, “Do the honors sweetheart.”

Curling your fingers around the little foil packet, pressing your other hand into the back of his neck drawing Dean in for a tender kiss. Slow meld of your lips, light sips of your warm mouths. Tenderly tugging his bottom lip, to slide your tongue over the bruised skin and into his mouth. Licking and touring the heated cavern, seeking out ways to make his moan and grunt. A moment of forgetfulness while mapping his tonsils and sucking on his tongue, till you break for air. Chasing his mouth for more kisses only to receive a chuckle instead.

Eyes open to spear him with a heated look, foil packet crinkling in your hand a remind of your mission. Slipping fingers from his soft hair, to trace over his body, joining its partner between the two of your heaving bodies. Unlocking your eyes to glance down, hand wrapping back around his thick shaft to stroke twice getting a needy moan from the man above you. Before teasingly rolling the condom on paying special attention to the thick pulsing vein on the underside, mouth watering at the thoughts of getting to taste it later.

Dean grasps one of your hips to bring the leg around his waist, opening you up and feeling your soft skin under his palm. Sliding between your bodies to entwine his fingers with your, pumping his cock together. Different sounds, a hiss from Dean and a moan from you exists on shuttering breaths. Eyes reattach both blown with desire and coated in need, you notch the head of his cock at your entrance pressing the heel of your foot into the small of his back to urge him forward.

Teeth clamping to draw blood from your bottom lip but also to keep from screaming out in pleasure as he slowly sinks inside your quivering depths. Reaching up with his other hand to free your bruised lip, brushing the pad of his thumb over the glistening skin. “I wanna hear you sweetheart don’t hold back.”

“What about Sam?” Breath hitching, mouth hanging open on a moan that’s trapped on the edge of a scream when he bottoms out against you. Bodies flush, joined hands now resting above your head where Dean’s placed them.

Leaning in to press open mouth kisses to your lips and neck letting you adjust to his size, the exquisite stretch thumps through your veins the slight sting only heightening the pleasure. “Never mention his name while we’re in bed sweetheart,” snagging the lobe of your ear with his teeth. Pleased when you nod speechless, though not enough, “Words baby girl I wanna hear that prefect voice of yours.”

Swallowing trying to form words to answer, scoring your nails down his back an impatience mewling whimper leaves instead. Using the leg not wrapped around Dean’s waist as leverage to plant and push your hips up against him. Squeezing your walls tightly around his shaft drawing out a grunt from his lips. “Dean…” going to say more but he chooses that moment to pull out till just the crown rested inside your pulsing channel. “Just you…” hips snapping forward to fill you quickly stealing those words into a loud scream of ecstasy.

Starting a hard punishing rhythm, repeatedly waiting till your fixing to speak and either pulling out or trusting home. Always taking away what your going to say. Knowing your trapped between frustration and pleasure, Dean captures your mouth in another deep kiss. While his hips snap against yours, wrapping the other leg around his waist to angle you differently. Pressing your intertwined hands into the pillow beside your head and breaking the bruising kiss to gulp a lung full of air into both your burning lungs.

Feeling your walls start to quiver around his hammering cock, knowing by the pinched look on your countenance, the quivering of your thick thighs clutching at his trim waist. Heels pressing into the small of his back drawing him forward with quickened strokes that he’s shortened from the long deep thrusts. Notching your legs higher on his waist to press forward, curling his pelvis into your core, determined to make you cum first. Wanting to feel you soak his cock, see the looks of pleasure dance across your features.

Sliding his fingers through your soaked folds to find your pearl pulsing, pressing the pad of his thumb circling to make a gasp fly from your lips. Back arching, tingles no longer gentle but tap dancing a rhythm through your veins. Dean’s name a chant from your dry, parched lips, panting to try and fill your starving lungs. Body vibrating on a higher frequency only Dean’s turned in on as with every snap of his hips, brush of his thumb sends your spiraling deeper into euphoria.

Reaching up to wrap your hand around his neck to bring him back down for another kiss. This one sloppy as the thrusts of Dean’s hips, brief touches of lips, wet slide of your tongues across the other. Eyes sliding closed only to snap back open with a pinch to your nipple soothed over my his teasing fingers.

“Keep those beautiful eyes open for me sweetheart and cum for me I know your close. You just gotta let go for me,” resting your foreheads together, gritting his teeth to starve off his own orgasm. The wet clinch almost too much for Dean to handle. Always wondering but never imagining how good this truly would feel.

“Dean,” breathing out his name, a series of moans and whimpers following. Trying to capture his mouth for another kiss that’s broken off when your orgasm slams into you soaking Dean’s cock in your slick. Eyes rolling back his name a screamed prayer from your lips.

Body convulsing in pleasurable all consuming fire, little sparks of light pin prick behind your tightly closed eyes. Moisture breath fans out over your neck where Dean buries his face, lips pressing into your skin. Chasing that high while working you through your orgasm the wet clinch of your walls prove too much to starve off any long. Giving in with a groan of your name rubbed into your skin as he fills the condom. Circling his hips a few more times to drag out the pleasurable spikes racking his frame.

Collapsing into your arms a welcome weight pressing you into the mattress as you both try to capture your breath. He brings your joined hands down starting to untwine them but the shake of your head stops the actions.

“For a few moments longer,” voice hoarse from screaming out your pleasure. Free hand coming up to card through his sweat drenched hair. Brushing the strands back from his forehead and sliding your lips over his. Brief touches, lingering into something deeper. Tender caresses of mouth’s, nibbling, and sucking softly on bruised skin. Dean starts to move getting a whimpered whine from your throat tightening your arms around him.

“Gotta clear you up sweetheart I’m not going anywhere,” reassuring you with another soft kiss while carefully pulling out of your tender depths. Mesmerized by the slick coating your tights and dripping from your convulsing walls. Brushing his fingers over the reddening swollen skin, gasp reaching his ears, eyes flying up to yours. Then flicking across your body seeing the beard burn on your neck and chest, hand prints blooming over your hips. “Did I hurt you?”

Sitting up to cup his cheeks, “No Dean you didn’t hurt me. If you had I would’ve told you.” Leaning in to kiss him tendering, “Better take care of that mess it’ll get awful sticky otherwise,” giving him a bright smile. Watching while he gingerly takes the spent condom off, tying it closed before tossing it into the waste bin by the night stand.

Raising to walk on shaky bowed legs to grab up the wash cloth from the sink. Wetting with warm water he turns back stunned to find you watching him with a grin on your lips. “Like what you see?”

“Hmm no,” seeing the frown you go to finish. “Love Dean, I see the man I love,” frown switching to teasing smirk as he nears the bed.

Nudging you to lay back and spread your legs, tenderly wiping you clean. Dragging the warm cloth over your folds and inner thighs. Tossing it behind him to crawl into bed gathering your pliant plush body against his hard chest. Back pressed into his front, arms wrapped tightly around your thick waist. Placing a kiss to your shoulder, “I love to you Y/N, get some rest I’m far from through with you.”

Soft giggles vibrate into his chest, “Careful you’re getting old baby you sure you’ll have the stamina?” Toying with the fingers tapping against your tummy sending shivers cross your body.

Low growl accompanies the drag of his teeth over your sensitive skin, drawing a moan from your lips. Pressing his hips into your generous ass, “Give me an hour sweetheart and I’ll show you just how much stamina your man has.”

#Request #SPN Mixed Bingo Square #Hurt/Comfort #Dean Winchester x Plus Size Female Reader #Dean Winchester x Plus Size Fem!Reader #Dean Winchester x Plus Size F!Reader #Supernatural fiction

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that-one-weeb-but-starwars · 3 years

Text

A sweet Reunion| Echo

Something short and sweet because lets be honest I think I fucked you guys up with that last crosshair one-

Reader: female

Warnings: nope

"What I need is clones."

Cid leaned back in her chair, the cloaked figure infront of her.

"Oh?" Cid questioned, "You know after the republic went imperal not to many clones are loosey goosey lookin for work. They're all employed with the empire."

"My intell says you have a group of clones for hire."

Cid crossed her arms, "and if I do whats it to you?"

The figure took off the heavy sling bag, tossing it onto the desk between them, "Will this suffice?" The bag over flowing with imperal currency, and of the highest denomination.

"You have my attention." Cid spoke.

"Good I'll need to see them."

"Now that will-"

Cutting her off the figure reached down picking up another bag and tossing it on the desk, the backpack causing the first bag to spill over, the credits in the second bag spilling out.

"I have more, but I will need see them."

"Alright agreed."

"Good."

"Now whats the mission?"

"Im looking for someone," the figure responded, "a soilder, the republic went empire and I want to find out the truth about what happened to him."

"Fine. They'll return in two cycles."

The figure said nothing and left Cid in silence.

Two cycles came, the batch of clones arriving back at the bar.

"I got a new mission for you boys." Cid spoke from behind the counter.

"Another one?" Omega asked curiously.

"Yeah. Someone came in a day or two ago. Payed me massive credit to see you all." Cid spoke, "Im assuming there lookin for one of your kind. A clone. Seemed pretty heart broken about it all too."

"That would be a first." Echo spoke.

"Indeed it would, not many approved of the cloning facilities, or clone troopers." Tech spoke.

"Did they leave a name?" Hunter asked.

"No. Just two bag fulls of high denomination imperal credits." Cid spoke, "when getting paid you don't ask much, especially if its just for some meet and greet. They'll be here later today. Don't blow this!"

Cid walked off leaving the group alone, "so. What do we do while we wait?" Omega asked.

It was boring, waiting around for this person. What did they want clones for? Maybe they were paying for information? Or maybe needed a bounty Hunter.

They were all in the back room on Cid's orders to not draw attention. The bar empty as finally they heard two voices, Cid being one of them.

"Where are they?" The second asked, "We had a deal. I've done this two many times. If you're lying to me you'll by lying on the floor in a matter of seconds."

"Now hold your tigger happy." Cid spoke sarcastically, "Get out here!"

They filed out, if needed to they were ready to shoot, Omega hidden behind the group.

"There." Cid spoke rolling her eyes as she left the group, they could take care of themselves.

It was silent as the men looked at each other.

"I-" the figure spoke, "your...alive-"

"Very Much-" Tech spoke out, "but who are you to be exact."

The hood was removed as a woman stood there, hair back in a clip as her eyes were two oldly different colors, her face littered with small scars.

"Y/n?" Echo asked shocked as Y/n nodded, "Y/n...Y/n. Y/N!"

She laughed nodding more as Echo ran to hug her, immediately picking her up and twirling her around. She laughed happily as he set her back down.

"Uh who's Y/n?" Omega asked Tech.

"The woman of my dreams!" Echo replied as Y/n smiled, his good hand through her hair, "I- the files said you had died!"

"Death couldn't beat me even if it tried." Y/n smiled.

The two laughed happily, pulling each other into a kiss as Wrecker gaged causing Omega to laugh lightly.

The two pulled away as Y/n smiled, turning herself towards the group.

"Im so glad you are all alive." Y/n spoke, "I've been searching non-stop."

"You. Have?" Hunter asked curiously.

"Well of course." Y/n spoke, "any clone trooper of mine is my family."

"Here it is." Tech spoke pulling up something on his data pad, "She was a general during the clone wars, usually paired with Ashoka Tano, when she wasnt Pair with the infamous trio of Skywalker, Kenobi, and Tano. She won countless battles."

"She doesnt seem much like a jedi." Hunter spoke, looking back at Echo and her, the clone pulling her into another kiss.

"Its said she was killed on Dathomir. A long time ago." Tech responded running through the files, "and was never heard of again. Perhaps the order banished her- these battle records are amazing."

Tech contuined to scroll through them, "She has no Battalion to her name. And gave an infamous speach about clones in support of them during the war and after the war efforts."

"So a clone supporter?" Hunter questioned.

"Well. A clone empathizor really, before becoming a Jedi she denounced the order to be a clone at 17 years of age, and then return to the order on account of plead by the council and the chanellor."

"So. Shes one of us then!?" Wrecker asked.

"In a sense yes." Tech spoke.

"Alright!" Omega cheered rushing through the boys and towards Echo ans Y/n.

"You're a total kick ass!" Omega spoke stars in her eyes as she looked up at Y/n.

"Hey! Who taught you that?!" Hunter argued.

"Cid did!"

"And who are you little One?" Y/n questioned

"I'm Omega!" She cheered.

Y/n smiled, "well Omega. If I do say so myself. I am a kick ass arent I?"

#star wars #star wars: the bad batch #the bad batch #star wars echo #sw: tbb #bad batch echo #tbb echo #echo x reader #echo the bad batch

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ellana-ravenwood · 4 years

Text

Can you be friend with your husband's ex-girlfriend ? - Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : Everyone always think you and Selina Kyle don’t like each others, solely for the fact that she used to "date” your husband. But as usual in life, things are much more complicated than that...A fluffy Drabble mainly about how truly strong, Bruce and reader’s love is.

Listen. My students were having quiet reading times, and I had a sudden burst of inspiration as one of them chose a French story in which a mother and a step-mother unite fronts to save their little magical kid (I love that story haha), and it suddenly inspired me. I LOVE Catwoman. Like. A lot. And in my head, her and Batmom have always been...Oh. No spoilers. The rest in this story ;). Hope you’ll like this little bonus story ! :

My masterlist blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives

__________________________________________________

“You look beautiful mom, do you have a date with father ? I thought date nights were on Thursdays.”

You jumped a little in the air as your son’s voice resonate in the foyer. Definitely didn’t hear him, sneaky little bugger. You turn around towards him, and smile, saying :

“It is on Thursdays, my little buddy. I’m having a girls night out, tonight.”

“Girls night out ?”

“Yes. You know, Cass and I are the only girls of the family. Sometimes we need to vent to our peers. Cass usually goes to see Steph and Babs, I go out with my friends.”

You smile at him again, ruffling his hair, and he can’t help but chuckle a little bit. In recent months, Damian found that he actually loves, when the one he came to call “mom” (you), ruffled his hair. It made him feel like the little boy he was, as odd as it could sound to anyone not knowing him.

“I didn’t know you went on such nights.”

“I do, once a month. You just haven’t noticed because it’s usually on nights you’re out with your father rather early.”

“I see. If it isn’t too -he hesitates- personal, can I ask with who you are going out ? Who are your friends ?”

Your smile widens. Because just over a year back, that boy would’ve never cared about this. About who you hung out with, or about you in general.

Ah, since he came in your life, he went a long way. The mere fact he wanted to know more about you was proof enough, and you felt absolutely touched.

Even more so as you realized that he not only asked about your friends because he wanted to know you, but because he was a little worried about who you might spend time with, wether they’d put you in danger or not...So, oh so sweet.

“Well, as cliche as it sounds, I’m going out with mainly other supermoms. We like to vent about...Things -you were aware that telling your son you and your friends love to vent about them wasn’t the best answer right now haha- So, Lois, you know her of course. Jon’s mom. There’s also Dinah, Connor’s mom. You saw him a few time at the Watchtower, although he’s quite younger than you so I don’t think you interact much. I bet you already know she’s Black Canary, and married to Green Arrow, I saw you snoop in your father’s files.”

Your son’s face redden a little, but you give him a reassuring winks totally meaning : “I snooped around too”, and it makes him smile. You continue :

“And finally there’s Diana. She’s not a mom yet, but she loooooves to listen to our stories. She’s also great at changing subjects and partying, who would’ve thought right ? I guess having thousand of years of practice helps. I’m sure you know she’s Wonder Woman eh. Oh, and of course, there’s Selina.”

“Selina ?”

“Yes.”

“As in...Catwoman ?”

“Yes ?”

You can see your son wants to add something, and you’re pretty sure you know what it’s gonna be. But you let him ask naturally, leave him time to gather his thoughts and dare to ask. After all, you want to instal an atmosphere of trust, between you and your children. You want them to know they can always ask you anything. So you wait. Finally, Damian says :

“Why are you meeting with this woman ? Don’t you like, hate her ?”

"Why would I hate her ?”

You know exactly why he’s thinking that. But you want him to elaborate, to make sense of his feelings about the subject. Simply, to talk.

“Well...her and father used to...you know...”

It’s not quite as formed as you were hoping for, but you do know. And at least, he tried. There was a time he would’ve just gotten mad you purposefully pretended not to understand his meaning, and would’ve left this instant.

You smile at him once more. To be honest, so many people thought you and Selina Kyle didn’t get along.

You guess it would make sense, it’t true, she’s your husband ex after all. AND one of the only woman for whom he truly cared about. Those, were very few...

In fact, there was only three of you, in Bruce’s life, that truly made a difference. Sure, he had been infatuated before, with quite a few women. But only three, truly stood out.

Talia Al’Ghul, of course. Not his first love (that was Julie Madison, although he was much too young to really know what love even was, and compared to you, it was just mild infatuation). But someone that used to be important nonetheless. The reason your sweet Damian (yes, sweet, especially when around you) was alive.

She was important, once. When he was training under her father’s guidance, before he realized who Ras really was.

Talia was a complicated woman who unfortunately could never truly get away from her upbringing, no matter how hard she tried. She was “too far gone”, by her own words. It was clear to Bruce, that if even herself thought she was un-savable, he couldn’t do much either. He did try, though. But it just never worked.

You were certain that she left Damian in Bruce’s care, when the boy was barely ten, exactly because she didn’t want him to turn out like her. Which in itself, was a little redemption act, no ? At least, you thought so.

Didn’t mean that you thought you could change her mind about those “world domination” plans that were ingrained in her mind since she was born. Fact is, she gave Damian a chance.

You never hated Talia. You actually felt pretty sorry for her.

She could’ve had such a different life, if, all those years ago, she had been able to leave her father. Not that you would want to, it’d mean that you and Bruce would never be (even if deep down, you knew that you and him would always end up together, no matter what...it would’ve just been a little lethal for you, if Talia was more around um um).

Talia never even really tried to get “her” son back. It seemed she completely accepted to “give him” to you. She self-admittedly never really knew how to be a mother, and there was that time she had him killed because she thought it was meant to be...

Not that, anyway, you’d ever let that happen again. You made it very clear you wouldn’t. And your resolve and anger could be scary, even to Talia Al’Ghul.

Plus, the day she had Damian killed, she realized she didn’t want that...anyway long story short, she was no longer in his life. And although if one day she changed her mind and wanted to contact him again you wouldn’t oppose it, you knew Damian was yours. Everyone knew that if one day she would come back, beyond the fact you, Bruce, and his siblings would be here to protect Damian...The boy would never choose to go back to the Al Ghuls.

He changed drastically, since he came with you. He was no longer her son. And she knew it. And didn’t interfere so far (and you knew she never would).

He called YOU “mom”. He told YOU he loves you. You. Not her. he never interacted with you like he did with her anyway. And you still didn’t hate Talia. She was part of both Bruce, and Damian’s past (AUTHOR’S NOTE : a little reminder that Damian was born from a “test tube” with Bruce and Talia’s DNA (to simplify things), and had a surrogate mother to give birth to him (although sometimes he’s seen in literal “baby pods” like in Death Stranding haha). He was born A WHILE after Bruce left Talia and the League behind. He wasn’t born 9 months after. This is important infos so things fit timeline wise :)).

The second woman who had a great impact on your husband’s life, and who used to be “his”, was...Selina Kyle.

For a long time Bruce felt like she was the only one to understand him. The only one accepting him for who he was, with no compromise. The only person on this Earth that wouldn’t try to change him. And although things were often “on and off”, and complicated, it was nice, to feel like he belonged. And Selina... Selina was the only one giving him this feeling.

But...Well, he was wrong.

Because then, you, the “third” and yet most important woman in his life, appeared.

You arrived years after his love story with Talia, and quite a while after he started to realize him and Selina were maybe not meant to be. Too many differences, even as they understood each others (or at least he thought they did).

Then you barged in. A bit younger than him. Unafraid to be yourself, bold and utterly stubborn. Turning his world upside down, and making him reconsider if he ever knew what the word “love” meant before you.

But that, was another story. Anyone seeing you with him, and particularly the way he looked at you, would instantly know how crazy he was about you. How desperately in love he was.

Right now, the question wasn’t about how strong your bond was, and how he never loved anyone like he loves you.

Nope. Right now, it was all about how you didn’t hate his exes (not even Talia). How anyway, they were part of his life at some point, that was a fact you could never change.

Before you, Bruce had a past. Past.

A past. A path. A path that lead him to you. A path that taught him to not make the same mistakes he made before, and a path that showed him it was you. That it has always been you.

A past path, that couldn’t compare to his present with you.

You didn’t even feel particularly jealous of them, you knew how Bruce felt about you, and that they were just that...part of his past.

Now, sure. You would probably never even be friendly with Talia. Who she was and what she stood for made it so. The opposite of you, really.

But Selina ? Well. Selina was another story.

You smile at your son, and say :

“Do you think of Selina and I as “conventional women” ? “

His answer came without a second of hesitation, Damian didn’t even have to think to say what he thought of your question :

“Certainly not.”

“Exactly. Now. Maybe society teaches girls they should instantly hate their boyfriend’s ex, but I chose not to listen. It’s a toxic view of life, and not all exes are crazy jealous psychos as the people make it sound ? Sometimes, like in your father and Selina’s case, the relationship ends on good terms. Selina is a great woman. As soon as she knew your dad and I were actually a thing, she backed off.”

Well. That wasn’t entirely true. She backed off of Bruce. But she still LOVED driving him crazy jealous by openly flirting with you.

“And I know how your dad feels about me. I trust him, too. Trust is important, you know that now right ? -he nods- So. Why would I hate someone I have a lot in common with, and with whom I’d probably be friend anyway if you father wasn’t in the picture ?”

“I...I guess you wouldn’t ?”

“And I indeed don’t.”

Your son was visibly confused, and you couldn’t blame him really.

Because of how the World was, but also because of who raised him (Talia was...a jealous woman), you understood how he couldn’t quite understand you not feeling threaten in the least by the fact Selina was your Broosh’s ex. So you say, kissing his forehead :

“I’ll tell you a few stories, soon. And I think you’ll get it.”

“Ok, mom.”

You smiled. He hadn’t call you “mom” for very long, and you quickly noticed he used every opportunity to use the word. It melted your heart.

“Now, I have to go ! If I’m late, Diana is going to fly me out of here, and your father HATES when she does that. Goodnight baby, see you soon. Make sure to eat a proper dinner. I told Alfred but I trust you to listen. And force your dad to have one too, when I’m not here, he forgets things...even as important as literally feeding himself. Too engrossed in his project, you know. Anyway, love you. Good night !”

“Good night, mom.”

And with a last smile, you go out and leave behind a son that has a LOT of things to think about.

************

A few days later, it was Damian’s mandatory night off and he was going to bed early. Your orders. You convinced him, by promising to read him a bedtime story.

Many would think your son was too proud to even admit you still read him stories before bed, even as he was approaching the age of 12. But many would be wrong.

If there was something Damian wasn’t afraid of, it was to tell the world how much of a mamma’s boy he was. Nobody could blame him, he never really had a “real” mom. Not one like you, at least, who taught him with love and patience, and not hired assassins and blood.

“Ok Little Buddy, what will it be tonight ?”

"The story of how you became friend with Catwoman ?”

Your taken aback for a few seconds, you had totally forgotten about telling him about your “girls night out”. But then you smile, settle down next to him on his bed, and as he threw his heavy and comfortable quilt on both of you, you start your story.

The day she saved your life.

The first time you realized you and Selina could very well become friends one day, was that time she literally saved your life. Definitely a hint that she didn’t hate you, at least.

And you ? Sure, at first you were a little insecure because you knew she was Bruce’s ex and Selina was...Well she was a gorgeous woman, smart, witty, and very VERY hot.

But after seeing her a few times there and there, and seeing how she interacted with Bruce...you knew Selina Kyle was not the “home wrecker” time. That she would never try anything with him, as long as she knew you two were a thing.

Sure she was a thief, unscrupulously taking whatever she wanted from whomever she wanted...but “someone else’s man” was definitely where she drew a limit. She felt absolutely no pleasure being a mean spirited person.

And she saw how happy Bruce was with you...Which lead to that fateful night during which you two started to get closer.

Because sure, you fought off your insecurities about her being his ex, but you weren’t exactly friendly. You just...knew of each others.

The change happened not long after Bruce made it official with the media that he was no longer “Gotham’s most eligible bachelor”, and was in a serious relationship with you.

To your surprise, the people in the city took it really well. Bruce was a beloved figure, they were happy that after years of clearly love life instability, he found someone. Sure, a few women and men had their heart broken, their dreams shattered, and were totally jealous of you but...

Anyone seeing you with him just instantly knew you guys were the real deal. That it was true love, as cheesy as it sounded. It was just that obvious.

Maybe too obvious.

Clearly, soon, everyone in Gotham knew how much Bruce Wayne cared about his girlfriend. How he would do anything for her. And...Well.

This was Gotham. Do you get the picture ?

It was a time during which you hadn’t moved in with him just yet. You’d do that only a few months later, not long before you and Bruce would adopt Dick.

But for now, you still had your studio apartment in the heart of Gotham (refusing to take any handouts from Bruce, who could definitely get you a better place), and you were going back there after a few meeting with your publishers.

You were suppose to meet Bruce the next day, as tonight, he was working on some important “Batcases”. You didn’t mind too much. Sometimes, it was nice to be alone with yourself, gave you a moment of self-care and calm.

You loved Bruce of course, and loved being with him, but it was still nice to have some alone time nonetheless.

Anyway. You were walking back, feeling rather good about the bath bomb that was waiting for you back home (it was from your favorite artisanal shop, a gift from Bruce, who definitely had no qualms buying you hundreds of dollars worth of bath bombs haha...If he couldn’t help you get a better apartment, didn’t mean he wasn’t gonna spoil you otherwise).

That’s when it happened. You never even saw it coming. One second you were walking down the street, the next you had a damp towel around your mouth and nose, and everything went to black.

************

You woke up in a warehouse. By the salty smell in the air though, you guessed you were somewhere on the docks. Which didn’t tell much, there was a lot of docks, in Gotham. Perks of living on a city with a seafront view ?

There was a group of men in a corner, playing cards. In front of you, a camera. You were gagged, your arms and legs were bound, and your head hurt like hell.

“Hey, she woke up.”

A shuffling to your side. The men playing cards were moving. They came to you, one turned the camera on. The other one put on some headphones and slowly directed a mic towards you, as the last man pulled on a ski mask and settled in front of the camera.

Nothing made sense to you. Until the man in front of the camera started to talk.

“Bruce Wayne. We have your girlfriend. If you don’t bring us-”

Oh. Oh. You were kidnapped. And those men wanted a ransom. An insane amount of money. That you knew Bruce had, but still. Ah.

You had to get out of here. You had to.

You looked around you, nothing. And there were the three men. Oh. Oh but the edges of your chair were sharp. And if you slowly made a back and forth movement with your wrists, you could see it slowly cutting the ropes. And so, you got to work.

Only...

“Believe me, we won’t hesitate to hurt her. Here, a proof of “good faith”.”

Huh ? OUTCH ! The man in front of the camera had just almost knocked you out with the force of his punch in your jaw. You were wondering if he hadn’t broken it. You couldn’t quite think anymore, and could feel the tears slowly falling on their own from your eyes...

Damn, it hurt. You didn’t see it coming either, too focused on slowly cutting the ropes while making sure they didn’t notice.

“Ok, I think that’s good. Whaddaya think, Rupert ?”

“We can do another take if you want, and then edit the punch in ? I’m not sure she can handle another hit like that, she looks pretty shaken up.”

“Ah well we-”

“Oooooh booyyys !”

Your ears were ringing, everything was blurry, and your head hurt so much. But you definitely recognized that voice.

“Catwoman, you’re early.”

Huh ? What was she doing here...

“Well, I thought I’d pop in a little earlier knowing you boys would be around. I’m sort of in a hurry. I accept cash of course, as usual. I think you’ll find the array of jewelries I brought today to be...What the hell are you doing ?”

“Mm ? Oh, her ? A little side operation. She’s Bruce Wayne’s sweetheart. Rumors has it he’d burn the world for her, we thought we’d take advantage of it and expend our business.”

“That’s quite a jump from fencing stolen jewelries, to kidnapping, isn’t it ?”

The man shrugged, and turned back to you.

“Well, you don’t achieve anything if you don’t start new ventures. And there’s big money to be made here. For sure. That idiot Wayne will pay up, there’s no doubt.”

You heard the click-clacks of heels, and a shadow came into your vision.

“What did you do to her, you animals ?”

“Just a punch. And maybe we weren’t too delicate with her when we moved her to our van, and then here. But it’s fine. Nothing too bad really.”

Slowly you were regaining your vision. And the pain was retrieving. You had never been punched before. You kinda hope it would never happen again...

The way those thugs were talking about the all thing was so casual, from them talking about how they’d edit the video destined to Bruce, to how they were just saying they were expanding their operation...For a little bit, you almost forgot you were from Gotham.

Gotham.

America’s capital of crime.

Where little thugs like those ones were plenty.

Men who thought they could “make it big”.

Gotham.

A place that bred someone like your Bruce, and his nightly activities...

Selina’s voice raised again, harsh and dry :

“I give you all the things I stole in the past month, in exchange of her.”

There’s a short silence, followed by a chuckle from one of the man, clearly the leader, who answers :

“Oh please. We ain’t stupid. We know her value. And we know someone like you, wouldn’t trade anything in for her if she wasn’t valuable. You’re not exactly known to be a nice woman.”

There’s a hint of anger crossing Selina’s face, and you immediately understand where it comes from. Sure. She was a thief. A criminal. And sometimes, she’d rough up some security guards, or some fellow criminals that think they could cross her.

But she was no brute.

She would never NEVER kidnap anyone, and especially not an innocent.

She protected children, and defenseless woman in her neighborhood, and whenever she could. She wasn’t exactly a hero, like Bruce; That’s for sure. But she wasn’t a bad person. No. She wasn’t.

And those guys words ? Just infuriated her.

“Mm. Too bad for you. Don’t go out and say I didn’t give you a chance. Really, too bad. I liked doing business with you.”

“What are you-”

In an instant, Selina sprout in action, and knocked the three men out before they could even realize. That was impressive. Even gagged, you could hear yourself utter a “wow” as she rushed back to you to untie you.

She smiled as she saw you made a good way through the ropes, and were most likely be able to get out of your bounds at some point. You were glad you didn’t though, because you weren’t quite sure what you were going to do once free ?

You fall forward on the floor and she catches you. Your head is still ringing, as you look at Selina.

There is genuine concern on her face.

How odd.

"Are you okay ?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Good. Cause I refuse to be the one telling Bruce the person he loves the most in this world died. Again.”

“Yes. Thank you I-I...”

“Hey, are you okay ? (Y/N) ? (Y/N) ??”

You could hear Selina call to you, and it felt like her voice was slowly fading into the distance...The adrenaline gone, the stress of it all gone, you had simply passed out.

************

“Is she alright ?!”

Bruce arrived, bursting through a window, and ran to you. Your head was in Selina’s lap (she felt bad just leaving you laying down there on the hard concrete ground), and she was casually sitting, her back against a container.

She was surrounded by the knocked out bodies of your aggressors.

“Yes. Yes she’s just sleeping. She got roughed up a little bit, but I checked. Nothing too bad. It’ll leave a few bruises. Nothing time cannot heal.”

After saving you, totally by chance, Selina called Bruce on his red phone, so he would know it’s an emergency.

It didn’t even take him more than ten minutes to drop the case he was working on, cross town, and arrive.

He kneeled next to you, and checked every part of you to make sure Selina was right. But it did appear you were just asleep. The shock was too big, probably.

“How did you know she was here ?”

“I didn’t. It was all luck. Those men were some...um...Associates of mine.”

“You have associates that kidnap women ?”

There was anger in Bruce’s voice, but Selina knew better than to think it was aimed at her. No. It was anger he felt towards those men who hurt you, and towards himself, too, as he wasn’t there to take care of you.

“No. She’s their first.”

He looks at you, with a longing and love in his eyes that he never looked at Selina with. She recognizes it instantly. He’s more in love with you than he ever been with her. Was it even really love, between them, or a strong friendship ? Sometimes, the two were difficult to dissociate.

She stares at him, because it’s quite something, to see the Batman himself so desperately in love that he dropped everything he was doing to run to you, knowing that you were safe.

It’s quite something, to see the Batman himself ready to give it all up just for one person. Something he was never willing to do before. Never willing to do with Selina...

She stares at him, and smiles. An almost sad smile, because it hurts a bit, he never looked at her like that. But a smile nonetheless, because she knows now for sure, that he found his true love.

Nobody would peg Catwoman for a romantic, but oh, oh she was a hopeless sap. Especially when it touched her dear friends.

Bruce looks at her, and mistakes that look in her eyes for something that isn’t there. She can see it instantly. He thinks she’s sad, that she’s truly hurt he found someone else. That he moved on.

She’s not. But of course, he would think so.

“Selina I-”

“Don’t Bruce. It’s ok. You and I were never meant to be together, and we knew it. Doesn’t mean we can’t be friend. I actually think we work better, as friends, don’t you ? Take care of her. She’s definitely a keeper.”

You slowly shift in Bruce’s arms, and he takes a look at you. At your wounds. His heart tightens, and he holds you with more force.

“Thank you.”

He barely whispers it, but Selina hears him. She smiles at him, happy that her friend found happiness. True happiness.

All she ever wanted for Bruce, was for him to find a way to be happy. Clearly, she wasn’t that. But you...You definitely were.

“I don't know what I would’ve done if she...”

“Hey, hey come on Bat. Don’t think about this. She’s fine. Just tired from the shock. She’ll recover, she’s strong. And you’ll be here, right ?”

“...Yes.”

He didn’t sound too convince, and Selina could feel a big urge to slap him across the face. Because she knew what he was thinking. And he’d better not do it.

“Bruce if you-”

“Thank you, Selina. I’m going to take her home, now. She needs the rest. And-And I do too.”

And on that note, he exited the warehouse, holding you tight in his arms. And oh. Oh Selina hoped to everything she held sacred (and that wasn’t a lot of things) that he wouldn’t be a stupid idiot.

The day she saved his heart.

He couldn’t stop thinking of that time you got hurt. Because of him. Because he was Bruce Wayne...What if anyone got wind that he was Batman ?

It’d be even worst. If someone like the Joker, or Penguin ever knew who he really was (and that was definitely a possibility), being with you would sign your death.

He had to-

“Oh god Bruce you are SO cliche.”

He slightly jumped in the air as Selina casually sat down beside him, looking down to the dark streets below. There was a slight fog, and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at how even the weather decided to join in ont he stereotype.

“Excuse me ?”

“You’re a living cliche. What, brooding all alone on a rooftop, on a full moon night, wondering if you should ruin your life or not, sacrifice your own happiness for dumb reasons.”

“What ?”

“What, breaking up with her to protect her ? Really ? Do you even know how dumb that sounds ?”

“I didn’t-”

“Your thoughts are plain to see. I know you, Bruce. And I noticed your face, ever since she got hurt. And what you’re thinking? Leaving her for her own safety ? D-U-M-B. So dumb.”

“Did you not pay attention to the close call she just had ?!”

“I was there to save her. And if I wasn’t, you would’ve barged in and save her. Or better yet, when I arrived, she had made her way half way through her bounds by slowly cutting it on the edge of her chair ! She might’ve escaped on her own !”

“Or gotten killed.”

“But she’s alive.”

“No thanks to me.”

“So what, you renounce happiness because maybe one day she’ll be in danger ? This is Gotham, Bruce. She is always in danger. And if you leave her alone, like I know you’re thinking about, she will definitely be an easy target. It’s not because you break up with her that people will stop thinking you care about her. In fact, after she got attacked like that, and it was made public, I bet the opposite will happen. Criminals in Gotham are a lot of things, but dumb is unfortunately not one of them. They WILL come after you if you leave her to fend for herself. If you break up.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know that. Come on Bruce. I was born here. You too. And her too. Hell, I saw her give a nasty right hook to more than one person, in the short time I’ve known her ! One of those being Mayor Hady himself, and that was BEFORE she started to date you, how fearless is she, huh ?”

“That’s the problem.”

“Her fearlessness ? Sounds to me like it to be taken advantage of. Train her. Teach her to fight, to defend herself. Give her the keys, to survive. Just like you gave yourself the keys to go on your “justice” mission.”

“I...I can’t.”

“Why ?”

“Because she...She shouldn’t live this kind of life.”

“A little late, no ? She knows who you really are already. And she stayed. Even then, shouldn’t this be her own choice ? Shouldn’t she decide on what she deserves ?”

“Selina-”

“Nu-hu. Don’t start with this. You tried to do the same with me, and I didn’t have the patience to stay. But I know she does. I know you can try to push her through the front door, she’ll climb through the window. She, unlike me or anyone else, will see right through your bullshit. Does, see right through your bullshit. And is willing to put up with it...You’ll never find someone else who does.”

“I know...”

“Then, what are you doing ?”

And with that, Selina rolled her eyes, grumbled something about him being a stubborn idiot, said : “think of her feelings for once, and not your own. Because you damn well know Bruce, that if you leave her, it will be out of selfishness, not because you think it’s truly the only way.”, and jumped from the building to the one next door, leaving Bruce with too many thoughts and dilemmas...

Even if in the end, the answer became obvious to him.

************

“As if I would ever let that happen anyway.”

“I’m sorry ?”

Years later, Bruce told you the story of how he almost broke up with you not long after you two moved in together, shortly before you adopted Dick.

“She was right you know ? I would’ve climbed through the window. See. If I knew for sure you were leaving me because you didn’t love me, then I would leave you alone of course. But I would’ve definitely called your bluff.”

“How can you be so sure ?”

He smiles fondly at you, bringing you into a warm embrace as you roll your eyes at him. Ah but of course, even him always knew you could see right through him, even when he tried to hide his emotions.

“Please, Bruce. You can’t fool me. You were never able to, and I don’t think you’ll ever learn to. Or I’ll just learn your new tricks, and crack you anyway. And believe me, if you had tried to leave me at that time...I wouldn’t’ve let that happen.”

He lays his forehead on yours, unable to say another word. Tonight, he was able to tell you this story that was now “silly”, but that almost tore his heart away from him.

Because if he had lose you to his own stupidness, he would’ve become just an empty shell. Back to those dark days of loneliness, and acting like a machine while his entire soul was hurting.

Sure. Now this story sounded silly. But oh, oh if he had gone through with it. If-

“I’ll have to thank Selina though. Because she avoided me going through the trouble of drilling into your thick skull that it’s ok to be happy. And be afraid for those you love. Especially in your situation...”

“I know.”

He holds you tighter. Just as every time he realizes how lucky he is to have another shot at this “family” thing. How lucky he is, that you’re here, with him.

And Selina was truly to thanks for that, in a way.

Because, you were almost sure you could’ve change his mind and not break up with you. But there was this slight possibility, this slight one you’d fail...

Maybe you would’n’t’ve been able to convince him to stay with you. Maybe. There was still a chance, right ? So you’re thankful. Your thankful for having such a good friend. For having Selina in your life.

You’re thankful that one day, a stupid mistake you made truly started this dear friendship.

The day she became a friend.

You had always been quite a “lone wolf” sort of person. So you didn’t have a lot of friends. Your childhood best friend, Alex, had moved across the country years ago. And making new friends as the wife of Bruce Wayne was hard.

This was a time BEFORE you met the others from the League. BEFORE any of them knew the Batman had a family.

Of course, before introducing you to them, he had to make sure things were safe. That they could be trusted (A/N : if you wanna see the day he does trust them, here’s the story I wrote about it haha : “You have kids ?? And…A WIFE ?”).

So, you didn’t have many friends. And sometimes...You wished you did.

Someone that wasn’t your Broosh. Or your kid. Or Alfred.

You told everything to Bruce, but sometimes...Well sometimes certain issues, you couldn’t talk to him about. Like for example the time he annoyed the hell out of you. Sure you’d tell it to his face, and you guys would fight, then work it out, and finally make up, and you didn’t want to bring back the issues you know ? You wouldn’t vent to him about him, eh ?

Bruce was definitely your best friend. But he was also the man you loved. And sometimes, it was nice to have an “outside” perspective.

Someone with whom you could gossip a little (although you did gossip plenty with your husband, when at charity balls and galas).

And then, slowly, you realized what you actually were feeling...

Selina.

You were missing her.

It had been a little while since the last time you saw her.

Ever since she saved your life, and knocked some sense in your Broosh, whenever you saw her, you’d have such a interesting and compelling conversations.

It was oh so pleasant, to gang up on Bruce and make fun of him. His pride was always hit, and he’d frown in such a delightful way.

At the same time, she knew him rather well, and you knew him rather well, and you three had a lot in common and it sometimes felt like you were a trio from a very cliched “chosen one” story.

Hermione, Ron, Harry.

Percy, Annabeth, Grover.

Any trio really. It even inspired some of your stories. Yet...Yet you wouldn’t call her quite a “friend”. Why that ?

You weren’t sure. It just was never made official, and in your anxiety riddled mind it meant that you weren’t friends, then.

Yet you missed her. And earlier in the day, you saw something that made you want to call her and talk to her about it !

Should you call her ? Send a text ? You had her number. She once wrote it on a napkin and slipped it in your pocket right in front of Bruce, just to mess with him. You kept it, and put it in your phone, not really knowing why.

Taking your phone, you started to draft a text (it had to be drafted before being send, it you were even going to send it...your anxiety made it so that even with texts, you had to make sure you didn’t sound stupid or such).

You didn’t really have any intention to send it. You were just toying with a few ideas when...

No. Oh no.

Oh fuck. No. No no no no no no.

Instead of hitting the “back” key to erase the text for good and move on from this weird move, you pressed “send”. Shit. Fuck. Motherfucker.

It was such a dumb text as well.

“Hey girlfriend, wanna hang out ?”

You were just trying out different ways of writing a text, and were entering “stupid silly mode”, which was the step right before you usually gave up and didn’t send something (you had MANY of those moments when starting to date Bruce...Moments during which you almost send some really sappy and silly texts, making the mistakes a few time to indeed press “send”...mortifying...why, why were you never learning from your mistakes ?!).

You were in your office, in the Wayne Inc building (you settled your writing office there, so it was more convenient to see your Bruce, but also to handle taking care of your son, Dick), downright panicking about this stupid text, when you heard a knock on your door.

How long had you been beating yourself down about this ? AN HOUR ?! Damn. Anxiety never let you keep track of time. You-

“Hey...girlfriend.”

Bollocks.

It was her. Selina. And you could hear her smug smile in her voice. You were facing your windows, not wanting to turn around, and it was getting a little awkward. Selina broke the silence :

“Listen, I thought you did want to hang out and was just making an inside joke by being overly girly, you know, imitating those models Bruce used to date ? But I realize maybe this was um, a mistake ?”

She sounds so unsure. You never heard her sound unsure before ! So you turn around, and here she is, a little shy.

Catwoman. A little shy ?

And all of a sudden, you realize she must’ve felt the same about you. Consider you a friend, but since you never talked about it never took it for granted, for something sure, settled in stone ?

And your text maybe confirmed you were, indeed, friends ?

And here it was.

From that day, and on.

The official beginning of your friendship.

Of course, you both saw the other as a friend since a while before, but it’s with this embarrassing text that it really changed everything.

Made it “official”.

Made it clear to the both of you.

It never occurred to you that Selina too, could sometimes have insecurities and be anxious. But that day, as she shyly responded to your call, hopeful it meant you were really friends...

Being her, it was also hard to make friend.

She had been friend with Bruce for a long time. The fact she was yours now too, filled her with joy. Because she really liked the both of you, in the most platonic way that ever existed.

Yes. Her and Bruce worked better as friends anyway.

Ah. But wasn’t this how the best friendship started ? With a push from fate, a little awkwardness, and a lot of laughter once the initial shock passed ?

Girls night out.

It happened a day during which you, Dinah and Lois were...not in a great mood.

Your husbands were aggravating, your children got into troubles and shenanigans, you had so much to do...it was a lot of stress, and it was all released at the same time.

You all left your house yelling that you “needed air”, and left behind rather stunned husbands and children. Ah but yes, everything wasn’t always perfect, even amongst loving families.

And your first reflex ? To call each others.

That’s it. That’s how girls night out started. The realization sometimes you needed to wind down with some friends. But quickly, you realized that the three of you talked mainly about your kids and husbands, and by extension, the “superhero work”. Which was fine, you needed to vent but...It wasn’t helping you relieve some tension.

And that’s when you got an idea.

Who better than Selina Kyle to make you NOT talk about your families ?

You joined in a bar every first Wednesday of the month, starting at happy hours for you, Dinah and Lois. Ranting about your families, and about annoying habits your husbands had etc etc...And then you were joined a bit later in the evening by Selina and Diana.

And that’s when the fun really began.

It became a ritual.

Girls night out (A/N : maybe I should write a story about that one day haha).

This was one such night, and you had let lose a little bit more than usual because...for the first night in nine months, you could drink a little bit of alcohol.

Alcohol had never been your thing, but a sweet cocktail there and there was nice. Now, while being pregnant with your youngest, Thomas, obviously you weren’t going to do that.

And you had missed a few “girls night out” because you were too damn pregnant.

But now, he was OUT, and you were TOO.

Well. Diana said something like that, as she kept giving you more and more cocktails.

Long story short, you were a little tipsy. And definitely not able to drive. And so here was your savior, Selina.

She didn’t really drink, knowing you would totally let loose. So she drove you home.

You were coming back a little later than usual, and you had forgotten to send a little text to Bruce to tell him so so he wouldn’t worry (Selina did it for you though, true friend had your back eh ? And she definitely didn’t want the Batman to come barge in on your girls night fun).

He opened the door as you walked up the stairs, saying bye to Selina. She had that smirk on her face, the one you knew she always had when about to tease your beloved husband. And as he slipped an arm around your waist, and turned to wave goodbye to her...She did just that :

“Careful Bat, I’m making good progress with her. If you’re not wary enough, I’ll steal her from you.”

On that note, Selina winks at the both of you, puts on her sunglasses (while it was night...Oh Selina), and drives away, smiling widely of that very Catwomanesque smug smile. Which makes you chuckle. She always made you laugh rather easily.

You turn to your bruce and...

Oh. That adorable “jealous frown” got you every time. Your smile shifts from amused to utterly affectionate, and you put your hands on his cheeks.

He was looking at Selina’s car fading into the distance, the arm he had around you tightening slightly (you were pretty sure he wasn’t even consciously doing it). Your hands on his cheeks didn’t seem to register in his mind.

So a further distraction was needed. You brush your lips against his cheek, as an attempt to drive his attention back to you and...it works.

You smile at him, and in your little hazy state you whisper in his ear :

“I love you, my Broosh.”

He can’t help but feel a surge of warm feelings towards you, and bring you in a tight hug. Partly because he can’t help it, partly because he’s trying to hide the slight blush growing on his face whenever you surprise him with “I love yous”, and that always made him snicker at him...Only you could fluster him so.

“I love you too.”

You tripped on air, as, once again, you were a little tipsy, and he catches you...Good, he needed an excuse to carry you bridal style anyway.

He always liked doing so, any excuse to have you near really. And as your face approach for a loving kiss you-

************

“Wait wait wait mooooom !! You don’t have to leave this gross part in !”

“What gross part ?”

“The sappy declaration of love, and the kiiiisses !!”

“Oh ? But don’t every story have to end with a kiss ? And a happy ever after ?”

“Nu-huh ! Also HEY ! None of your stories end like this, I know, I read them all !”

You chuckle slowly at your boy’s reaction, and kiss him on the forehead. Quite touched he read all your stories.

“Time for bed, little buddy.”

You say, slipping out of his quilt and tucking him in. You can see he pensively thinks about your little friendship story, and finally he says :

“I’ll try to be nicer to Miss Kyle. I never trusted her, because of her past with father. But maybe she deserves a chance ?”

“She does.”

“If you say so, then I believe it.”

It touches you, how much blind faith your son puts in you. You smile, giving him another kiss to his forehead, as he says :

“Thank you for telling me the story, mom. It was nice.”

Behind this “it was nice”, there isn’t just the story itself, but the knowledge that as you grow up...Your feelings change.

You change.

And you go through a lot of heartaches, before finally finding the right persons to surround yourself with.

Beyond the story itself, Damian related to how it took both you and Bruce a lot of trials and errors, before finding each others. How you loved before you met the other, but it never compared to how you love each others.

How you found good friends along the way, and how even when things sounded desperate and lonely...you made it through.

So he could certainly do so, too ? Even more so since now, he was a big brother.

Thomas was barely a few weeks old, but Damian had already taken his role very seriously. And you knew he was going to continue to grow, to love, to hurt too sometimes...and to evolve.

Just like you and Bruce did.

So. No. You didn’t hate Selina Kyle just because she and your husband used to be a thing. In fact...

In fact, Selina had become both of your best friend. Unfortunately for Bruce, she often took your side on everything, and LOVED to drive him crazy by openly flirting with you.

And she had been by your side through many good moments, and bad ones. The first to respond when your family needed it. The one you’d always be there for, and vice versa.

A best friend.

Quite an important find.

When you met Bruce, not only did you meet the love of your life, but also one of your best and most precious friend.

Conclusion : is it possible to be friend with your husband’s ex ? Absolutely.

Especially when that “ex” was someone as extraordinary as Selina Kyle, and when the love that linked you and your husband was so impossible to even graze.

__________________________________________________

And yet another bonus story that I had no intention to write but suddenly felt the need to haha. Don’t worry, the rest of the stories I announced are still coming ;). I guess there’s nothing bad in having little bonus ones in between hehe. I hope you liked this, again it’s just a little drabble.

As usual comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated and motivating <3.

PS : I wrote this, like all drabbles, in like thirty minutes. Didn’t re-read. Sorry for any typos. Don’t hesitate to point any huge ones to me, Ill change it x_x.

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