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nataliasquote · 7 months ago

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Mustang | cowgirl nat au

Summary: The mayor’s daughter. A bounty hunter. One has freedom, the other does not. But will one fleeting night be enough to convince Natasha to leave everything she’s ever known behind?

Warnings: Natasha is a hot cowgirl, cowboy slang

wc: 4.3k

note: this is for all the cowgirl Nat simps out there (yes you know who you are @katyaromanoffpetrova ). And also for @milfs69420 who drew the inspiration for cowgirl Nat in this scene (i’m obsessed with that drawing no joke). I hope this lives up to expectations!

-⧗-

A loud yell echoed across the grassy plain, rising above the sound of thundering hooves and the distant shriek of a stream train whistle. One lone rider, racing across fields she knew like the back of her hand. Strong thighs squeezed the flanks of the midnight horse beneath her as she raised her arms above her head and tilted her face up to the sky, letting the golden rays of the sun soak into her skin. Not once did her balance falter, years of riding making her feel like an extension of the steed beneath her. Her cheeks started to burn with how hard she was smiling, so she placed both hands back on the reins and kicked her horse to speed up.

There really was nothing that Natasha loved more than riding. It was her escape, her outlet, her way of breaking away from her usual daily duties. Was she out on her horse a bit too often? Her father would say yes. But if there was one thing Natasha Romanoff hated, it was being told what to do.

She’d caught up with the train rolling steadily along the tracks and Natasha leaned forwards, scarlet hair, tied in a single braid, flying behind her from under her hat as she raced beside it, trying to keep up. She could feel the muscles of her horse flexing with every stride they took and the rusted green walls of the carriage were almost in reach of her fingertips if she stretched out towards it. The smoke puffing out of the chimney tainted the air that she breathed in, but she barely noticed it through her euphoria. She knew where this train was headed, towards the larger cities, so she broke away and turned back to her hometown, slowing up as they trotted under the town’s welcome sign.

Most walked their horses through the streets on foot, but Natasha stayed seated, guiding her horse through the swarms of townspeople and down to the large house at the end of the main street. She hopped down and tied him to the fence temporarily, making sure he had enough hay and water before she strolled into the house.

Not even bothering to take her boots off, Natasha waltzed into the kitchen and flopped down on a chair. She tossed her hat onto the table and let out a sigh, staring at the small red symbol on the front of her hat.

“Natasha,” a gruff voice called after her. She rolled her eyes. “Where the hell were you?”

“Out,” was all she replied. She didn’t turn around but could feel her father’s eyes boring into the back of her skull. And his disapproving tone was nothing she wasn’t familiar with.

“You were supposed to be home two hours ago, for the opening ceremony.” Without looking at him, she knew how he was standing. Arms folded across his chest as he took up almost the entire doorway. “Yelena was upset you weren’t there.”

Natasha scoffed. “No she wasn’t, she couldn’t care less.”

“I felt betrayed, actually.” Great, now her sister had joined in. “You’re always choosing Liho over me, don’t you feel my pain?”

“I’m sure you’ll live,” Natasha deadpanned, wanting nothing more than some peace and quiet.

But that was a rarity as the mayor’s daughter. Her whole life was scrutinized, and many people disapproved of her non-traditional ways. “Is there anything else required of me? Or can I leave now?”

Yelena appeared in the corner of her vision, leaning against the kitchen countertop. “Well, I was going to ask if you would come by the range, seeing as you-“

“Ok, so that’s a no.”

“Natasha, be nice to her please. It’s Yelena’s big day!” Alexei’s voice seemed to be in constant ‘public speaker’ mode, which was fine for pretty much everything except quiet conversations in the kitchen. He was too close, and Natasha scraped her chair back and reached for a glass to fill up from the pitcher of sweet tea on the table. Reluctantly, she offered one to Yelena, who accepted with a soft smile. Alexei took their ignorance of his statement to disappear back to his office, and Natasha breathed a small sigh of relief.

“I knew you liked me really.” Natasha deadpanned her comment but Yelena only stifled her giggle behind a sip, the sweet beverage coating her tastebuds deliciously. “I’m not mad, it’s fine. But promise me you’ll shoot this week?”

“I was planning to anyway,” Natasha admitted. “Do you have riding targets too?”

Yelena let out a ‘ha’ and leaned back in her chair, chin tilted towards the window. “What do you take me for, an amateur? That’s like asking if Barton sells beer.”

“Speaking of, fancy a drink?” Yelena gestured to her half full glass with an eyebrow raised. “I was going to go down to Barton’s if you want to join me?”

Yelena thought for a moment, watching a lone ice cube float around her glass. “I would, but I promised Kate I’d meet her at the stables and you know what she’s like if I cancel on her.”

“Suit yourself,” said Natasha. Ok, so maybe she did feel a little remorse over missing the ceremony, but never would she admit that out loud. “I’ll see you later. Oh, and tell Ma to not wait up for me at dinner. I’ll sort myself out.”

“Roger that,” Yelena gave a mock salute and Natasha just rolled her eyes in jest. She grabbed her hat, slipped it on her head and wandered back out of the door, but not before she slipped a few snacks for her horse. Liho was still waiting patiently for her and he swished his tail as he approached, rather fed up of just standing around in the sun.

As Natasha brushed him down and gave the stable a quick tidy, her mind wandered back to the open grassland. What she’d give to never return home, just riding to her heart's content and staying in whatever town she came across. Or just sleeping under the stars, listening to the howls of the coyotes and the thundering hooves of wild horses echoing behind the mountains on the horizon. She craved the freedom that the cowboys had and the small taste she could get would never suffice; she lusted for more.

With a small threat to Peter, the stablehand, to not hurt Liho, Natasha wandered back into the town centre, stopping off at the ammunition store on her way for a magazine refill. She shot the test targets to pieces purely for the fun of it, knowing her aim was impeccable. The owner just rolled his eyes but let her continue; this behaviour was expected. After all, Alexei was a well respected and slightly feared man, which rubbed off onto his daughters too. And Natasha’s fiery temperament was almost as famous as her father was. No one with any brains would ever challenge her to a duel if they wanted to keep their life.

The redhead’s eyes cast over the centre-most building, the brim of her hat concealing the sign on the front. But she didn’t need words to tell her what it was- she knew her second favourite place like the back of her hand. The heels of her boots clicked against the tiled floor as she pushed the wooden saloon doors to swing open, hitting the walls beside them with a crack.

With her hat still dipped low, she paused, surveying the entirety of the room in one fast sweep. Partially content with what she saw, Natasha tipped her hat from her head and tucked it under her arm, feeling strands from her messy braid to fall and frame her face. Green eyes darted across every familiar face, occasionally leading to the subtle tug of a smile to play on her lips if she felt particularly fond of someone, but not many had that blessing. She didn’t pay two minds to the rest of the townspeople once she’d locked on the one person who didn’t think she was completely crazy.

Wild yet utterly desirable, Natasha somehow held every single person captive within her presence. The general chattering subsided as she moved between the tables, even the men who spent their days airing their lungs over bottles of brandy and rum paused their drinking to take a good look at her. If Natasha even cared, she’d be repulsed, but noticing the way the men of the town looked at her had become a thing of the past. She would never settle down so why bother?

The red velvet-topped bar stools were smooth under her jeans as Natasha slid onto one, her hat coming to rest atop the wooden bar. She unbuttoned the cuffs of her green plaid shirt and rolled her sleeves up to her elbows, exposing her forearms with a sigh.

“Didn’t see you at Yelena’s gun range opening today,” the bartender commented as he slid an open bottle of beer in Natasha’s direction. He knew her well, and he should, as her childhood best friend. And Natasha may be unpredictable but her beer choices never wavered.

“Oh don’t tell me you were there too. I swear, if one more person asks me about that I’m going to put a bullet in someone’s head.” Her hand fell to her holster for effect, making the bartender step back, hands raised in surrender. Natasha rolled her eyes and smirked before taking a sip of her beer. “My Pa gave me an earful when I was barely through the door. I don’t see why it matters, Barton, it’s just an opening.”

Clint threw the tea towel he was holding into the sink over his shoulder. “I’m just talking, but she’s your sister, so isn’t it in your duties to go to that kind of thing?”

Natasha shot him an unimpressed look, her brow bone casting a shadow across her eyes in the dim light. “You mean that as her sister, or as the mayor’s daughter? I plan on using the range anyway, so why do I need to show my face now? It’s not even about me.” She puffed out her cheeks and rested her chin on the hand that was placed on the beer bottle rim. “If I was Lena, I’d be happy my sister didn’t show up. She can have the spotlight for a change.”

“Where did you go, exactly?” Clint was the only one who would listen to Natasha’s tales, so he just let her talk whilst he worked. Gave him something refreshing to think about instead of his unruly customers.

“I caught wind of a new group riding out by the Ridge yesterday, so I wanted to check it out. Saw nothing but Ol’ Joe moving his cattle. Swear that man digs for his cannon ev’ry chance he gets.”

“Well, he’s not the best with people,” said Clint, only realising afterwards that he’d just stated the obvious. “Is that what you want though? A group like that?”

Natasha pursed her lips. She hadn’t thought through the logistics of what her future looked like, she knew it involved a lot more open space and a lot less… people. “Not a group, I couldn’t handle that.”

“Nat, you know it’s not safe out there on your own. You need your home, a family.” Clint was family orientated to the core, but the same couldn’t be said for Natasha. “You know it’s even worse for women.”

“I can handle myself,” Natasha scoffed, feeling rather put out by his insinuation. “I don’t need a bunch of asshat guys telling me what to do!

“I know, but-“

“If I wanted an argument, I would have stayed at home,” she pointed out. Clint’s mouth opened before he closed it with a huff, thinking better than to protest again. Natasha’s hands tugged her hair out of her braid, reveling in the feeling of it falling loose around her shoulders.

She chewed on her lip, trying to suppress the anxious feeling bubbling low in her stomach. With each passing day, the small town life rattled her and the walls of the village seemed to close in. It had taken root in her chest since she was a child, that feeling of longing never quite subsiding.

Clint moved off to serve customers further down the bar, leaving the redhead lost in her own mind. Slender fingers tapped rhythmically on the glass bottle.

What did she want? Natasha knew how her dreams played out, but Clint was right; where was her stability? The thought of being alone was heavenly, but that was coming from someone who had never truly experienced it. She’d been surrounded by people since the day she was born, and those fleeting moments of freedom with just Liho for company were the best she’d felt.

But what did a future full of that entail? She’d idealised it to the point where she was biased, getting defensive whenever anyone tried to make her see sense. She may not see eye to eye with her father anymore, but the stubbornness she inherited from him was a clear determiner of her roots and more importantly, her home.

A cacophony of whistles erupted from the tables behind her, snapping her out of her spiral and Natasha turned on her stool to take a look at the source of the commotion. A woman stood in the doorway, dressed similarly to Natasha, which was rather uncommon in this town. Most of the women wore skirts, so seeing another in jeans that wasn’t Natasha, Yelena or Kate had heads turning.

Natasha watched the way the stranger’s hand instinctively flew to her holster as her eyes adjusted to the darkened room, a bitter contrast to the sun blazed street just outside. The saloon was always kept dark, just the way Natasha liked it, but it did look a bit intimidating from an outsider’s perspective.

Ignoring the outstretched hands of drunk men that grabbed at her from their seats at the closest tables, the woman picked her way through the crowd, her hips swaying in her jeans and brown fringed chaps as she rounded the final table and slumped down onto a stool. Natasha peered at Clint out of the corner of her eye and tried to hide her smile, taking a long sip of her beer bottle as the stranger sat four seats over.

“What’s the strongest stuff you’ve got?” The stranger asked Clint, her hat still sat squarely on her head. A strange move in Natasha’s eyes, but it added to the air of mystery around her and the redhead couldn’t help but watch her reflection in the glass opposite.

“I’ve got a couple bottles of whiskey if that’s what you’re after?”

“I’ll get a glass of that, thanks.”

Natasha pulled a face, impressed. “Going for the hard stuff, I see.”

The stranger didn’t turn her head, keeping her eyes down and focussed on her hands that rested atop the bar. “Something like that.”

There was something different about her, something refreshing. Natasha stood up, grabbed her beer bottle and wandered down the bar, now appearing on the seat beside the stranger. She leaned on the bar, one leg crossed over the other, accentuating the curve of her hips in her jeans. The stranger’s head moved slightly, trying to get the best view of Natasha that she could.

Clint read his friend’s body language like he was fluent, and quickly swapped her bottles so she was presented with a fresh drink. Natasha waited a couple of seconds before striking up conversation again, not put out by the stranger’s lack of enthusiasm.

“Is this seat taken?”

The stranger shook her head and scooted over, nursing her glass of whiskey with both hands. She was nervous and guarded and Natasha saw the twitch of her fingers that seemed uncontrollable.

“I’ve not seen you before. You not from around here?” Her southern drawl was laid on thick, emphasising the rasp in her voice that came out when she spoke properly. Natasha’s skill set didn’t stop at shooting. She was incredibly proficient at flirting and Clint loved to just stand back and watch her pick her next target that wandered into his bar.

The stranger finally turned to Natasha and lifted her hat from her head, revealing her face and piercing eyes that bore into Natasha’s. “Is it that obvious I’m not from around here?”

Natasha laughed around the rim of her bottle and readjusted her stance, using her movement as a way to take in the woman with a quick flick up and down. “I know my people,” she replied, gesturing to the full tables behind them. Her eyes fell to the stranger’s lips. “And I’d remember a face like yours, darlin’.”

The mysterious woman’s cheeks flushed red and she took a swig of whiskey, welcoming the burn that flooded her chest. The hot feeling racing through her body was purely alcohol induced… wasn’t it?

The brunette ducked her head down, embarrassed. “I’m only passing through. Had to stop off at the stables to get my horse’s hooves checked. Ran across a thorn patch, she did.”

“Well, Bishops’ will take good care of her. And in the meantime, does the gorgeous woman have a pretty name to match?”

Whiskey was by far the best choice she could have made- it could account for the now permanent flush that took residence in her cheeks. The woman turned on her stool and let her knees fall open loosely, her body language much less guarded.

“I’m Y/n. And you are..?”

“Natasha Romanoff, at your service.” The redhead quickly put her hat on and tipped it forwards, eliciting a laugh from the woman opposite. Clint eyed their interaction as he dried some glasses, grinning to himself at how effective Natasha’s charm truly was. She turned it on with the tip of her hat and a flash of her smile, making men and women alike stop dread in their tracks.

“You’re the mayor’s daughter?” Something flashed across Y/n’s eyes but it was gone as quickly as it came and Natasha couldn’t decipher it.

“Yeah,” she trailed off, frowning slightly. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all,” Y/n gave her a smile, nodding to the stool beside her. Natasha sat far too quickly, like an obedient dog. One glance from a gorgeous woman had turned her to mush- what was happening?

A couple of loud thuds resonated from the back of the room and Natasha rolled her eyes, knowing exactly who sat there regularly. “Hey, Romanoff, give us a dance, will ya?” A leering voice echoed above the general hum of conversation and Y/n watched as Natasha rolled her eyes and adjusted her gun that sat in a holster on her hip.

“Give it up, Stark, you’re barking at a knot.” The man in question jeered at her and banged his beer bottle on the barrel table, several men around him doing the same. “If you wanna watch me dance, you better pay me for it.” This only gained her more nonsensical yelling and a man on Stark’s table threw a dollar bill in her direction.

But Natasha just stood up, squared her shoulders and fired her handgun in their direction, the bullet slamming into the wall mere inches above Stark’s head. She blew the smoke off her gun with a cocky smirk and shoved it back in the holster. The entire saloon fell silent, aside from Clint’s mutterings about yet another hole to fix thanks to his fiery friend.

Natasha waited a second longer, almost daring Stark and his guys to test her again. But they didn’t, now only watching her warily as she turned back to her new woman who was watching with a slack jaw. Natasha felt a burst of pride surge through her chest and she puffed it out slightly, sinking down into her seat with one foot up on the footrest, her legs manspreading.

“I’m sorry about that, that was no way to treat a new lady.”

Y/n snickered, shaking her head. “Oh please, I ain’t a lady. I’ve seen worse men than that in towns over, they really never change.”

Natasha’s gaze had drifted to the way the brunette’s hair fell over her shoulder, and how soft it looked despite being so exposed to the elements. But at the mention of different towns she snapped, eyes wide.

“You’ve visited other towns?” She tried to keep her cool, but there was truly no hiding her excitement. This woman had everything Natasha wanted and more.

“I’m a bounty hunter,” she admitted, watching Natasha’s face change. “But I ain’t got much work at the moment. There’s not many people that trust a woman to do what a man can do.”

“So you’re just… floating between towns?”

Y/n nodded, taking a sip of her whiskey. “Yup, it’s just me and my girl. And the occasional over-friendly landlord who tries to get up in my business.”

Natasha’s mind was racing like a mustang. She felt almost childish, wanting to hear stories of her travels and what the world was really like. Y/n could see her curiosity, it was too apparent to mask, and it was like a breath of fresh air. All too often she was met with disapproving glances and was often the butt of circulating gossip, housewives and prostitutes judging her uncommon way of life. But she was happy, and no one was about to take that away from her.

“Where are you from?”

Y/n’s smile faltered and she traced the rim of her now empty whisky glass. “I don’t think about that. Doesn’t matter where I’m from, I’m never going back. There’s nothing for me there. My life is out here now.”

“I wish,” Natasha muttered, more to herself than anyone else. Y/n heard it but didn’t comment. After all, they were just two strangers in a bar, nothing more.

“So, if you’re the mayor’s girl, you must know what there is to do around here.” Her words had an element of teasing to them, which didn’t go unnoticed by Natasha.

Natasha shook her head with a laugh. Ten minutes in and already poking fun at who she was. Why was that so attractive? “There’s a barn dance later if you want to come?” Natasha suggested. “That is, if you’re sticking around for that long.”

“I’ve got a compelling reason to now,” Y/n teased, toying with the hints Natasha had been sending her way.

Natasha quirked her brow and raised an arm behind her head, her bicep flexing slightly under her scrunched up shirt sleeves. “Well, I never turn down the chance to take a pretty girl to a dance.”

“Sounds like you have experience.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes in playful accusation “Is that a problem to you?”

“Not at all. I like a woman who knows what she’s doing.” Her words were heavy and even Clint raised his eyebrows, having been listening in to their conversation whilst he polished glasses.

“Then you’re in for a real treat, darlin’.” Natasha held eye contact and took a swig of her beer, licking her lip as a drop escaped. Y/n stared back at her and then coughed, using that as her excuse to look away. Anyone could feel the air shift and Clint walked away, shaking his head with a smile. God, Natasha certainly knew how to play this game.

“Where did you say you were staying?” Natasha continued, probing yet more information out of the poor woman.

“Here, actually,” Y/n answered, gesturing towards the door that led to the small assortment of lodgings that the saloon housed “ ‘S the only place willing to take someone like me.”

“Barton!” The man in question looked around guiltily. “Keeping things from me now, are we?”

“You were out! When was I gonna tell ya?”

Natasha grunted and jutted her chin out at him, furious that he’d watched their interaction knowing exactly who this woman was. And Y/n found the whole ordeal rather funny, having made the connection that they knew each other a little while ago.

“Well, if you’re stayin’ here, I know where to pick you up later.”

“Inviting me to a dance and picking me up? Do all foreign girls get this treatment from you?”

Natasha winked coyly, sliding her hat along the bar where she’d left it. “Only the special ones.”

“Oh you’re flannel-mouthed!” Y/n exclaimed, to which Natasha only shrugged cockily. “I’ll be waitin’. Right here, so don’t be late.”

“Roger that,” Natasha responded, mimicking Yelena from earlier. She stood up with a flourish, placed her hat on her head and took Y/n’s hand to place a kiss on the back of it, treating her like a proper lady. Clint wolf whistled her, receiving an insult thrown his way before Natasha had disappeared back through the doors she’d come through, leaving them swinging back and forth with the momentum.

“She’s a wild one, watch out.” Clint nodded after the redhead, silently laughing to himself at her dramatics. Always one for the exits, she was.

But Y/n didn’t even notice his amusement. She was gazing at the gunshot hole left in the wall across the room, and more specifically, thinking about the woman that put it there.

“The wilder the better, I always say,” was all she replied, her mind now miles away. Sure, she said that about horses, but Y/n was starting to think that applied to the women she surrounded herself with too.

#natasha romanoff #marvel #fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff hot #natasha romanoff x female reader #cowgirl natasha romanoff #cowgirl #wild west #wlw #lesbian #scarlett johansson

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butwhyduh · 10 months ago

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honestly jdk just tim drake x reader where one/or multiple of the batfam walks in?? i just find them entertaining, or they are continually being interrupted through the day!

Warning: eventual smut and Tim is done with everyone’s shit. If it’s not the end of the world, don’t call me- level done. And you can tell it’s fanfic because Tim is actually an adult.

Tim didn’t get into shows very often. He’s busy and he has a terrible habit of falling asleep after the first 10 minutes. He didn’t want to watch the show but he was tinkering with some of his tech while sitting on the couch and you put it on. And that’s how he got sucked in.

“And Daphne said yes to that? Drew is not good enough to lie to her friends over,” he said and you started telling him the backstory.

You binge watch the next few episodes to catch up to the new season. It was a fun and scandalous show, nothing like Tim’s usual picks. And he thought it was cute how animated you were when talking about the show.

“Trevor needs to get his shit together or not only is Naomi going to leave him, he’ll go to jail,” Tim said.

“Yeah but he owes the local crime boss money and he said he’d kill his family otherwise,” you countered.

“Sounds like Gotham,” Tim quipped. You lightly smacked his arm before laying your head on his shoulder and entangling your arm in his.

“That is not comforting,” you said. “Oo they’re going to tell us who took the diamonds!”

The bat phone started ringing almost off the coffee table. You groaned and let Tim go to sit up to answer that.

“The corner of 17 and Parkway? How many combatants?” He said in Bat speak. And that’s when you knew your date night was over. He hung up and turned to you looking apologetic.

“I have to go,” he said. You sighed but pulled him into a hug.

“Be safe. I’ll be here,” you said with practices familiarity. He kissed you before grabbing his stuff and leaving. He didn’t get back until hours later with some fresh bruises and a girlfriend asleep on the couch.

It was 2 days later that you tried to continue the show. Tim had told Bruce to call someone else first. The door was locked and his phone was on silence. You’d even given him some pretty good incentives if you were uninterrupted and alone after the show.

It was all of ten minutes into the continued episode with pho takeout on the way that the fire escape window opened. In flopped Nightwing covered in mud.

“No,” Tim groaned. You huffed before pausing the show. “Do you need help?”

“Only a bit,” Dick said as the understatement of the year. He let Tim look at him to find that he was leaking blood all over the carpet from a bullet wound in his thigh. “Only a graze. Do you have a bandaid?”

“Good lord,” you replied as Tim called Alfred. You quickly grabbed a towel to stop the bleeding.

It was a few hours later and a carpet cleaner before Nightwing and your carpet were patched up. By that time it was the middle of the night and you couldn’t concentrate on anything. Tim promised a date night another day.

This one was a whole week later. All of the Robins had been warned under pain of torture to not talk to Tim for that evening. Because Tim was to put it mildly, frustrated. You two hadn’t had alone time in over a week.

You started the show back up with all entrances locked and phones off. You were able to watch the next 15 minutes before you heard broken glass.

“Hey did you know your window was locked,” Superboy said standing in front of the window. Tim practically growled before pausing the show to shove Kon out the window.

“I don’t know what you need but the other members of Young Justice are available. Call them,” Tim said but it was already too late. The wind had blown into the room and it was starting to snow outside so he couldn’t exactly ignore the window. Once again date night was canceled.

Tim was so frustrated that he had dreams about you in his bed. It was almost a week later and now 3 episodes behind on the show that you had another date night. He was almost willing to skip the show entirely at this point just to have alone time.

Tim had practically threatened everyone he knew with death threats to leave you both alone.

“Someone is feeling the mode,” Bart joked.

“You mean, someone needs to get laid,” Kon added.

“At this point, yes! I don’t want to see, hear, or think of either of you tonight. Unless it’s the apocalypse, then I don’t want to even know about it,” he growled. The two other heroes howled with laughter as he left.

You could tell Tim was distracted and preoccupied by the way his hand gripped and squeezed your thigh. He gave you frequent kisses between scenes. As the episode ended, Tim pounced.

“Tim!” You gasped as he pushed you to lay on the couch before the credits were even done. It turned to a moan as his hand slid between your thighs to rub you through your panties.

“It’s been way too long,” he groaned as he kissed down your throat. He was almost never this aggressive and it was dizzying. He pushed your panties to the side to finger you.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped as he hit deep inside you. His hips rubbed his hard cock against you. He pulled at your shirt with one hand.

“Take it off,” he groaned with impatience. Before you had even gotten the fabric over your head, he had attacked your chest. Pulling a nipple into his mouth and sucking hard while fingering you thoroughly had you whimpering.

You shoved down his pants to grasp him in a loose fist. Tim rutted into your hand while sloppily kissing across your chest.

“Please, want you,” you whined and he wasted no time sliding in. Your back arched with a gasp. His arm reached behind your back and Tim took his time with long deep strokes.

This pleasure cycle couldn’t last forever and you both finished far too soon. Tim kissed you softly and gently.

“We can continue this later. I think the food is here,” he said.

“Sounds good,” you said adjusting your clothes and sitting up. “I’ll be right back,” you added as you went to clean up.

Tim answered the door in his messied hair and haphazardly placed clothes. Instead of the food delivery guy, it was Jason standing with his food box. Tim frowned.

“What do you want?”

“Pizza anyone?”

“Leave,” tim growled, taking the box. Jason laughed.

“Interrupting something?” Tim almost slammed the door in his face. “Hey, I just need keys to the Robin motorbike,” Jason added. “Oh I didn’t know you watched that show. Can you believe that in last week’s episode, it was the mom all along. Wild hu?”

Tim sighed before throwing the keys at Jason. “Go away.” He slammed the door.

“Well that sucks,” you said across the room.

Tim locked the door and sat the pizza box on the table. “I’m gonna be honest, and that is that I really just want to finish what we started before pizza. I’m not picky where.”

You laughed before letting him grab you fireman style over his shoulder to drag you into the bedroom. There was no way you were answering the door after that.

#Tim drake x reader #friday night smut #red robin x reader #Tim drake smut #Red Robin smut #dc smut

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pit-and-the-pen · 4 months ago

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Three's a crowd

Summary: After finding out your mate, Cassian, had slept with Nesta you let slip that you wouldn't mind her joining you and Cassian.

Cassian x reader established relationship, Smut (18+)Female reader, m/f/f threesome, mean dom Nesta, soft dom Cassian, Sub reader, impact play, subspace kinda, fingering, oral (m/f receiving), orgasm denial, lots of praise, lots of safe word checks. Two mentions of spit.

Idea by the lovely @sarawritestories <3

divider by @tsunami-of-tears

It started out as an innocent story telling session with your family. Nothing out of the ordinary, a bottle or two of wine shared in your cozy living room. Nesta, Emery, Gwen and you sitting on your couches feet tucked up as laughter filled the air. Your mate, Cassian, was out grabbing a few drinks with his brothers at Rita’s so naturally you invited all your friends.

The hours passed like minutes, Gwen recounting some story about a unicorn that had Nesta and Emery roaring with laughter, shouting over each other with “That’s not how it happened!” “Tell it right, Gwen!”

“What he did like me more. I know you were too busy getting your world rocked by Cas to remember anything correctly but-” Gwen gasped before clamping a hand over her mouth. You felt your eyes widen, letting the words sink in. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. I…shit.” The red head knocked back the rest of her glass of wine. Nesta’s cheeks had tinged pink right up to the long tips of her ears.

“It’s fine. I promise.” You said, taking a long sip of your own. Nesta’s head snapped to yours.

“What?”

“It’s no big deal. If I got jealous over every person Cassian has ever slept with, I would never know a moment of peace.” You laughed lightly to yourself. And you truly didn’t mind. Maybe only slightly because she hasn't told you but that’s the past.

“Did I hear my name?” Speak of the devil. Cassian strolled into the living room, pressing a quick peck to the top of your head as he flopped down onto the couch next to you.

“Only talking about how much of a rake you used to be.” Another laugh drew out of you at his faux scandalized face.

“Me?”

“Yes you.” You poked right in between his ribs and he jumped slightly. Playfully batting away your hand.

“And why, pray tell, are we discussing that?”

“Gwen said you slept with Nesta. Well I believe her exact words were ‘rocking Nesta’s world’” Cassian’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head. You brushed a gentle hand on his cheek. “And I was just telling her that I’m fine with it.”

“You are?” You only nodded, draining the rest of your wine glass.

“It was forever ago. I haven't even met you yet.” He tried to explain, words tumbling out.

“Cas.” You cut him off, placing a hand on his thigh. “I really really don’t mind. I mean who wouldn’t want to sleep with Nesta.” It was your turn to blush. The sound of Gwen sputtering reminded you that you were in your very full living room that suddenly felt very small. You shot up to your feet, nearly stumbling over your own limbs.

“I’m going to grab more wine.” You practically shouted and turned to leave the room. Trying not to run to the small wine cabinet, you were cursing yourself mentally.

“You got out of there pretty fast.” Cassian said, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I don’t know how I’m ever supposed to look her in the eye again.” You groaned, pressing your forehead against the cool wood of the cabinet.

“Very easily actually. Did you mean it though?”

“What part?” Your breath hitched in your throat as Cassian kissed up your neck.

“Do you want to sleep with Nesta?” Your heartbeat sped up as you tried to fight back the thoughts. Nesta was gorgeous, anyone with eyes could see that. And you’d be lying if you said you never considered it. You loved your mate wholeheartedly but there was nothing wrong with looking. It wasn’t uncommon for you and Cassian to point out a fae or two that caught your eye at Rita’s, so this was no different.

“Princess?” Cassian froze, mouth hovering right over your pulse point.

“Would you be mad if I said yes?” Your voice was small, cheeks burning hot. He chuckled against your neck, continuing his path of kisses.

“No.” His mouth was right against your ear. “Do you want her to join us in our bed?” He practically purred it and you gasped as his teeth toyed with your ear lobe. You could only nod your head. “Interesting. I’ll talk to her. But, be warned princess. She’s just as vicious in bed as she is out of bed.” He left one final bite to the column of your throat and unwrapped himself from around you. Leaving you trembling and wondering just exactly what you had gotten yourself into. And oh so excited for it.

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

“Why don’t you go over your colors for Nesta, Princess.” Cassian’s hand rested lightly on your jaw, tugging your face up to look at him. You knelt in front of him, naked with your palms resting on your thighs.

“Yes, General. Green is okay, yellow means slow down or I’m starting to get uncomfortable. And red means stop.”

“Good girl.” Cassian said, running a hand through your hair. “And if you can’t talk? Like if Nesta was sitting on that pretty little face of yours?” Your breath hitched at the image he painted for you. You licked your lips as you let your mind wander. A slight tap on your head pulled you out of your dirty thoughts.

“Right. One tap is good, two means slow down, and three is stop.”

“Good girl. Now our rules are I can touch you, Nesta, but no fucking. Anything else I’m missing, princess?”

“No, General.”

“Alright. Now show Nesta just exactly how good you can be.” He stepped back, letting Nesta step in front of you.

“Can I touch you?” She asked, eyes roving over your naked form. She still had on a silk robe, tied loosely but covering anything that mattered.

“Yes.” You said and her hand instantly tangled into the roots of your hair, pulling your head back to the ceiling. A small yelp left your mouth and she gave you a feline smile.

“Oh you’re going to be fun to play with.”

Nesta didn’t waste time before she had you ass up on the bed. Circling you with your favorite paddle in her hand. Your head was in Cassian’s lap, his straining cock right in front of you, throbbing, as you ran the tip of your tongue out to trace the veins that ran underneath.

A loud smack filled the room and your shriek died off to a moan.

“No touching him, yet.” She called out. You whimpered and Cassian ran a gentle hand through your hair. Another smack.

“No touching her either, General.” She teased. “You have to earn touching him.” One more smack, harder than the others. Your foot kicked up at the feeling. The tinge of delicious pain that ran through you making you moan loudly.

Nesta delivered hit after hit until tears stung your eyes. Cries bubbling out of your throat. Cassian’s cock was leaking, listening to your sweet noises but not being able to touch you. His hands were clenched tight by his side, fighting the urge to thread his fingers into your hair and push you down onto his aching cock.

One last smack pulled a yelp from your throat. Slightly different from the others. Cassian swore under his breath.

“Gods Nesta. I don’t even hit that hard during punishments.” He tapped your cheek lightly, asking for your eyes on him. You did so instantly. “Color?”

“Green. Very much green.”

Another sharp hit, the paddle whipping through the air.

“Is that how you address him?” Nesta asked. You shook your head.

“No. I’m sorry, General.”

Cassian had his eyes narrowed on Nesta as he answered you. “It’s okay, Princess. You’re doing great.” You didn’t need to see Nesta to know she rolled her eyes, a small sigh leaving her lips.

“Aren’t you just dying to get your mouth around him?” She purred as her hand started rubbing at your now red backside. You nodded, which earned you a small snack with her hand this time.

“Gods. Yes.” You answered. Her hand gently ran up the curve of your back, her lithe body following it until she was leaning over you.

“Then put that pretty mouth to use, or is it only good for screaming?” You didn’t get a chance to answer before she tangled a hand into your hair and pulled you onto Cassian rock hard cock. His loud moan echoed through the room as he instantly hit the back of your throat. You gagged, trying to breathe through your nose. A string of curses left his mouth and his hand tried to rest on your head. The sound of a sharp slap filled the room as Nesta smacked his hand away.

“I didn’t say you could touch her yet.” She hissed and pulled you off of him. A string of spit connecting your lips and the tip of him. “Color?” She asked you, you didn’t hesitate.

“Green.”

Her eyes flickered back to Cassian.

“See. She can take it. Now keep your hands to yourself before I tie them up.” She winked and that was all the time you got before she was pushing you back down onto Cassian. You were better prepared this time. Relaxing your throat and taking a short breath through your nose. Nesta praised you as she pulled your head up and down, controlling your every move. You were a whining mess under her as you wanted to be able to touch Cassian, run your hands up and down his thick thighs, cup his heavy balls the way that would make him moan your name and have him spill down your throat.

“Enough.” She said and pulled you off of him again. She kept tugging until you were sitting on your knees, chest heaving as you gulped down precious air. Her hands rest lightly around your neck and she pushes you back against the bed, your hair hanging over the edge.

She slings her legs over your chest, putting all of her weight right in the center. She curls a finger at Cassian, beckoning him to you.

“Make her scream, General.” She purrs at Cassian and that’s all it takes for him to throw your legs apart. He runs a finger through your folds and groans when he finds you soaked. He thrusts two fingers into you, scissoring them to stretch you out for him.

“Are you ready for me, princess? Think you can take me?” He coos and you cry your yes. Followed by a string of please. The words die off in your throat as he pushes his tip in. Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of your mate entering you.

Cassian sinks into you fully as Nesta’s fingers give your nipples a harsh tug. Your moan is quickly cut off by her thumb sliding into your mouth.

“I think that’s a much better use for that loud mouth of yours, don’t you think Cas?” Your skin flushed as she talked about you like you weren’t even there. Cassian’s only answer was a sharp thrust of his hips, a move that would have sent you further up the bed if it wasn’t for Nesta’s weight on the center of your chest. His finger rubbing tight lethal circles on your clit.

“Fuck. Everytime, it’s like you were made for me.” He spoke through clenched teeth. Slowing his thrust down to let you feel every inch of him.

Your eyes shut close as you felt that coil tighten in your stomach. Biting into Nesta’s thumb as you fought back screams. Your body jolted when Nesta gave your breast a sharp slap.

“Not yet.” Was all she barked before she pressed that same hand low on your belly. Your body shook as it only served to amplify every thrust, singeing every nerve in your body.

Your head starts to feel a little fuzzy, slipping into that delicious headspace that only Cassian could give to you. Your hand sneaks across the bed, searching for his warm hand to stop you from fully floating away, not entirely sure of yourself with Nesta around. Nesta’s foot comes to rest on your wrist, pinning it down hard enough that you gasp. Nesta’s weight is off of you instantly. Cassian slipping out of you with a growl. Blinking off the haze in your eyes, you see Cassian holding Nesta’s neck lightly.

“Cool off Nes.This is her first time. If my mate wants the comfort of my touch, then that’s what she gets. Do you understand?” Cassian growls. Something in Nesta’s eyes switches. That hard edge melts away and a flush rises over her cheeks. She mumbles something under her breath.

“What was that?” His tone is softer now. Nesta’s eyes don’t meet his.

“Yes sir.” Her voice is shaky.

Cassian’s eyebrows raise in question. He removes his hand from her neck, sliding it down her body. She shudders at the contact. Cassian leans in close until his mouth is just an inch away from her ear.

“I think you can do better than that, right Nes?” Nesta’s eyes flicker to you. You give her a small nod of encouragement, eyes wide at the scene unfolding in front of you. Still hazy from the orgasm you had been denied.

“Yes, sir.” Nesta’s words are more firm. Cassian groans at the tone.

“Better. Now I think we owe our girl over there something, don’t you?” Nesta bites her lip and nods.

Cassian turns his attention to you “Color, princess?”

“Y..yellow.” You stuttered out. “Just wanna touch you.” Your voice was small and shaky. The tell tale sign that you were starting to get overstimulated.

“Are you okay with Nesta staying?”

You think for a second then nod. His eyes soften and he runs a soothing hand through your hair. He places a kiss on your forehead and you all but melt against him. Dipping your head down to rest in the crook of his neck. His arms wrap around you and he shifts you to his lap, making you straddle him.

“Like this?” He asks and you nod again. You raise your hips and whimper as you sink down onto him. You throw your head back as he bottoms out, hitting that sweet spot inside you right away. He gives you a few breaths to adjust to the new position. Then he hooks an arm over your shoulder and grinds you down on him, short quick thrusts that pull high pitched mewls from you.

“Nesta.” You say between cries. The blonde was quickly by your side. You grabbed her cheeks between your hands and pulled her lips to yours. She swallowed every one of your moans, chasing them like they were oxygen.

One of your hands snaked down her smooth stomach, feeling every muscle that her training has given her until you reach between her thighs. You trailed a tentative finger through her center. Drawing a moan from both of you as you circled her clit, applying the pressure the same way you would to yourself. Her hips bucked at the contact. Her own hand cupping the back of your head as the other started playing with your nipples. You slipped a finger into her, the sound of both of your slick filling the air. You paced your finger to the timing of Cassian’s thrusts. Your legs were shaking around Cassian and he moaned as you clenched around him.

“Good girl. Fuck, you gonna cum all over my cock?” You moaned your yes. Not pulling away from Nesta’s soft lips. She nipped at your lower lip as you added another finger into her. Trying to get her to her own release.

“Go ahead. Gods, you’re squeezing me like crazy, princess.” His words mixed with the sharp tug on your nipples had your whole body tensing. You pulled away from Nesta, fingers stilling inside of her as you came so hard you saw stars. Nesta held your head, Cassian wrapping his arms tight around your waist to crash you against him. Your ears were ringing but you could hear both of them whispering their praises in your ear. A few harsh thrusts from Cassian had him panting your name as he spilled into you. A loud keen flowing from your lips as he fucked you both through it. You're both panting, heads resting against each other when you remember you still had two fingers buried in Nesta.

You pull off of Cassian, feeling his cum drip down your thigh as he slips out of you.

“Lay down for me Nes.” You say as you pull your hand away from her cunt. She gives you a sleepy smile and does just that. You make a big show of slipping your fingers into your mouth. Moaning at the taste of her. You’re rewarded with her sharp inhale. You smile down at her and start trailing kisses down her chest. Lower, delivering a soft nip to her stomach, her hip, the inside of her thigh. She tilts her hips up to meet your mouth and you feel Cassian pin her hips to the bed. You look up at the both of them as you lower your mouth to Nesta’s center.

She moans loudly as you lick a soft stripe between her folds. Her hands are instantly tangling in your hair. You circle her clit with your tongue, once, twice then you tap Cassian’s wrist once. Signaling him to let her go. That’s all it takes for her to start bucking against your face. Using that hand in your hair to push you closer into her.

You can sense her growing frustration and sneak your hand up, teasing those same fingers inside of her again. Her back arches off the bed and she rides your face. Pushing your fingers deeper inside of her. You curl your fingers, searching for that rougher patch and almost smile when she curses loudly. Her moans quickly raise in pitch. Swears mingling with a garbled version of your name. Her legs try to clamp around your head but Cassian keeps a hand on her knee to stop her. Her moans turn into small mewls as her legs start to shake. You flick your eyes up and lock them with hers. That’s all it takes for her to fall apart on your tongue. Hips still bucking against your face as she rides out her high. You don’t stop your fingers until she’s pushing you away lightly. You drink up every drop off her arousal, leaving her glistening with a mix of it and your spit. You smile widely up at her as she pants, chest heaving, staring up at the ceiling. Her cheeks are tinged pink and she looks so pretty that you want to kiss her. So you do. A much softer kiss than the one you shared earlier.

When you pull away and turn your face to your mate, you see him hardening against his thigh again.

“Round two?” You turn back to Nesta, biting your lip. She quickly nods before Cassian is attaching his lips to yours. The groan that you pull from him lets you know just how long this night will be.

#acotar fanfiction #acotar #acosf #acomaf #a court of thorns and roses #acowar #nesta x cassian #cassian x you #cassian acotar #cassian #cassian x reader #nesta x reader #nesta archeron #nesta acotar #nesta smut #cassian smut #lord of bloodshed #lady death

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partycatty · 10 months ago

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i had a vision and drew it - and even better, i got a fic idea from it!

johnny cage > discovery

johnny discovers his new powers unexpectedly. maybe he wasn't as ordinary as others thought.

warnings: johnny thinks he's dying and gets all crisis-y, established relationship

notes: imagine instead of activating his powers in a life or death situation, it randomly bodyslams him like a heart attack - and it scares the hell out of him. also i hope u like my silly sketch :3

masterlist <3

• johnny's life was crumbling. his movies were flopping hard, and people were starting to forget his name. his spending habits were out of control, and you two were arguing about it so much that you grew tired of hearing your own voice. most days were the cold shoulder or shouting matches. things weren't looking great.

• it was during one of these matches when the shouting on his end abruptly paused, and he doubled over. your anger was shoved aside as you dashed forward to inspect his current state. but, just as soon as it started, it was over in a flash. johnny was startled, to say the least. his eyes were wide and he was panting.

• you guys assumed the stress was taking a toll on him, a physical toll. out of respect for his well-being, you held your tongue from that point on. or at least, you tried to. everything was relatively quiet until a mysterious yakuza member demanded the sword on your shared mantle. you would've thrown it at him if given the opportunity since the damn thing sent you back millions. johnny, however, wasn't as willing. fortunately for your safety's concern, he was the ultimate home security system, tying up the man after knocking him unconscious.

• we all know the rest. "what in the actual-" "i am the god of fire" "get your damn hands off him" "that's no special effect" "change the arc of your lives." blah blah blah. it was all a weird blur. apparently, you, johnny, and this new "friend" of yours were all chosen to fight for something bigger than a malibu disagreement. you were a fighter alongside your husband, but you did it competitively. johnny did it for the cameras, which isn't to say he's worse naturally. he could kick ass, and so could you, just in different directions.

• liu kang warned everyone that training would take months, as the tournament was far down the line. johnny grew impatient, and you grew tense with his lack of eagerness to actually train. regardless, you sparred and took the monk's advices to heart.

• johnny wouldn't tell you at first, since he didn't want to distract your own progress, but he would oftentimes catch himself feeling... funny, for lack of a better phrase. during meals, his eyes would unfocus and his hearing sounded underwater. at night, he'd toss and turn for hours in the cot beside yours. something felt wrong, really wrong. his chest felt fluttery and cold, like a sprite weaving between his ribs. it scared the holy hell out of him, considering how prone is family is to heart attacks.

• "great session! whaddya say to a well-deserved break?" he'd announce out of concealed desperation to the other earthrealmers, hoping that someone would agree and he'd be able to excuse himself to loosen his collar and sit down for a moment. it was after the fifth time asking in a day that you approached him with genuine concern.

• "honey, are you alright?" you asked gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. his eyes followed your touch and he sighed, moving your hand to his chest.

• "i-i'm afraid," he'll confess quietly, glancing behind you to make sure nobody was overhearing his moment of worry. "i haven't been feeling well, but i can't just drop everything and leave. not when my career's in the shithole. we've got nothing to return to. this fire god guy needs me, needs us, and i know damn well you'd follow me out if i stepped back from all of this."

• johnny's tragic worry struck a chord in your heart and you couldn't help but agree with his words. you advised him to ask a monk about decongestant tea, or some other simple remedy that would keep you at the academy.

• things died down, or at least, johnny's pain wouldn't be verbalized for a while. you and the boys were actually gaining significant strength and conditioning with the brutal training regime liu kang assigned. when he felt everyone was finally prepared to choose a champion, he assembled a king of the hill type of tournament on campus grounds.

• you stood between johnny and kenshi, a palpable tension on your husband's shoulders. his jaw was clenched tight, as were his fists. he looked... terrified. this wasn't a normal expression for the star.

• "johnny?" you whisper to him, reaching down to intertwine your fingers with his. before you could fully articulate your concerns, he speaks up.

• "i don't feel well," he murmurs in return, eyes fixated at the platform in front of you all. he visibly pales.

• liu kang calls you to the platform as the first contestant, and you obediently oblige with a bow, waiting for further instruction. your eyes danced across your potential competitors — raiden and kung lao, the humble farmers. kenshi, the enigmatic swordsman... and your husband, who looked as if he was shitting himself and moments away from puking.

• "you will face (reader), johnny cage."

• "a-are you sure? because that's my spouse, and i'd hate to—"

• liu kang frowns. johnny puts his hands up in a surrender motion, a pathetic attempt at remaining playful, and hoists himself to the platform across from you. his position readies, as does yours.

• though he may be visibly under the weather, the technique is still there. johnny's fighting style is unique and calculate, effortlessly playful and charismatic, just like him. even so, the match becomes quite even as you're familiar with his style. you parry many blows, mirroring others. the crowd is pleased and excited by the potential outcomes.

• you land a good kick to johnny's face, sending him spiraling in the air and landing on his back with a deep thud. the color in his face returns (due to the bruising) as he stares up at you, licking his lips before flourishing his way back up.

• but then, he lets out a strained cry.

• johnny clutches his chest, clawing at the layers of fabric across his body as if they're an anvil sitting atop his torso. his face twists as he doubled over in complete agony.

• "by the elder gods!" liu kang shouts, standing from his spectator chair. others let out their own concerns and shouts, but you're the first one rocketing to his side. you get to his level to inspect his face. you make a desperate attempt to push his damp hair from his face, but his neck snaps the other way as his body tries to expel this sudden onslaught of pain.

• as the fear that a heart attack is imminent, a sudden glow of green burns bright even past johnny's robes. it spills out like an angry cloud, seeping through johnny's fingers as he cries out in the worst pain he'd ever experienced. it is here that liu kang tenses up, then relaxes. he steps to the side, and does nothing but watch blankly. you come closer and part his clothing, giving yourself access to his bare chest to inspect the source.

• shockingly, the problem is... internal. his veins are glowing a bright green shade and when his eyes aren't deeply clenched, you sense a faint trace of emerald in his irises. right where his heart is, is a rhythmic flashing pattern.

• "make it stop!" johnny begs helplessly, and you reply on the verge of tears that you don't know how to help. however, almost as if on cue, he takes a deep breath inward and sits upright, eyes wide and jaw slack. and, just like that, everything seems normal again.

• you run your hand frantically across his bare skin, trying to feel for abnormalities as he catches his breath. you're crying now from the fear, and you catch a glimpse at his watery eyes.

• "are you okay?!" kung lao asks, putting a hand on his back to help him stabilize. "what was that?!"

• "i don't know..." johnny breathlessly replies, reaching a hand up to fix his hair nervously. however, as his hand traveled upward, he noticed the same emerald aura clouding around his hands, and he shouts out and scurries as if he's trying to run away from his own arm. as it's outstretched, it shoots a ball of energy outward, frying a mannequin that sat innocently off to the side. the crowd's eyes go from the mannequin and back to the celebrity. your fists ball up on his back, fistfuls of fabric keeping you upright otherwise you'd fall back from shock.

• "that is not how i anticipated that happening this time," liu kang muttered, coming closer to inspect johnny's palms. johnny stares at his hands like they grew overnight. his eyes shoot to the fire god, incredulous.

• "what the hell do you mean, 'this time?!'"

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #mk1 #johnny cage x reader #marley draws ☆

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deadcrowcalling · 7 months ago

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DPS headcanons

charlie can't bake for shit, like he literally can't even make a box cake. he always screws something up

on the other hand, pitts is an amazing baker. the dude will make a whole damn cake from scratch like it was no big deal

anderperry = adhd and autism duo. you pick who is who

cameron is a history buff. i saw something saying he'd love top gun and i totally agree. that kid is a NERD

todd's a cat person

neil likes both. whatever makes todd happy makes him happy

charlie's a lightweight, unlike todd who (as we know) can down whiskey like nothing

considering DPS is set in 1959, meeks and pitts definitely were marvel and/or dc comics nerds. maybe one liked marvel and one liked dc, and they constantly fought about which was better. or they both like one franchise and trash talked the other

the rooftop radio dance party was totally not meeks and pitts' only dance party. they've had many

all the poets have at least been to charlie's huge house once and done stupid shit in his pool. somebody definitely belly-flopped off the diving board, really regretted it, and now it's an inside joke between all of them (probably be Knox or Pitts, if i'm honest.)

meeks likes plants. he's totally got a few small plants in his and pitts's dorm. totally has a tiny succulent named after some superhero (modern!au he'd so name it something dumb like megatron)

if transformers had come out when the poets were kids, pitts so would've been a transformers kid

charlie totally has converse (specifically red ones) and draws on the rubber parts (this is inspired from a comment on my post where i drew on my vans)

in relation to the last one, he's totally written carpe diem on the shoes. and a lighting bolt

modern!au knox would play fortnight 24/7 and never shut up about it

modern!au todd and neil have a shared farm on stardew valley. and a minecraft house

scratch that, all the poets have a minecraft server they all play on. charlie's house looks like ass while todd and meeks have a library that looks better than most modern architecture

growing up, meeks would sit in the library for hours skimming through the encyclopedias until he found anything that caught his eye. he'd be there form when the library opened to until it closed. the librarian eventually caught on to his schedule and started bringing him little sandwiches and chips and a juice, and always brought him something in the morning, like a granola bar.

maybe that's how pitts and meeks met. pitts was looking for cool like sci-fi novels and saw meeks sitting all by himself with a giant pile of encyclopedias next to him. pitts picked out a cool book and sat by him, the two never saying a word. this continued for a few weeks until one of the two worked up the courage to introduce themself. they became fast friends.

cameron over prepares. always has bandaids on him. mostly because charlie's constantly getting hurt

anyways, i could ramble for days! lmk if you like stuff like this and i can post some more headcanons and stuff

#limiting myself to 20 hcs cuz i could go on for hours #i love those gay men #most of them at least #dead poets society #anderperry #todd anderson #neil perry #pitts and meeks #gerard pitts #steven #stephen meeks #???#idk which way to spell it #charlie dalton #nuwanda #knox overstreet #richard cameron #headcannons

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muddyorbsblr · 1 year ago

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save my room for last

'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: the morning after 'a sizing mishap', hours before 'a tale of ice baths and hot sauce'

Summary: One of the duties you're assigned for Soccer Aid Training Week is to run wakeup calls for a handful of players. Today you and your fellow staff members draw names for who you have to wake up.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: 18+ | smut-ish times [minors & pearl-clutchers, don't even try me i am not the one]; one (1) cuss word

Things to be aware of: cuddly clingy and overall menace bf Tom; cozy steamy times 🥴😮‍💨

The high-pitched scandalizing notes of your alarm pierced the quiet of your hotel room, effectively steamrolling your peaceful slumber in your boyfriend's arms.

"Too early," Tom grumbled, holding your naked body tighter against him. "Sun hasn't even begun to peek through." You fought the urge to snuggle further into his side and burrow your face into the crook of his neck as large hands freely roamed your back.

"I gotta go," you groaned, pushing yourself off the bed and trying to roll out of his hold, only making him let out a whiny groan and wrap his fingers around your thigh to pull you back to him. "Sweetie if I'm late I get whoever's left in the bowl for the wakeup calls." You had to bite your lip to hold back any reaction you had to his hand now lazily kneading at the back of your upper thigh, fingers traveling dangerously close to the part of you that was already most definitely awake and beginning to ache for him. Again.

"Not yet," he mumbled, pressing his lips to your forehead, tracing the features of your face lazily in sloppy kisses. "Just a few more minutes, goddess."

Dammit, when he got all whiny and needy like this, combined with the gravel of his morning voice, it was damn near impossible to deny him anything. You'd be downright hilarious to even try. And yet here you were, doing exactly that.

"I'm really sorry, sweetie, but I gotta go," you mumbled, letting out a few giggles that were muffled when he pressed his lips to yours, already pulling you tighter against him and sighing out in contentment as he did so. "I wanna at least have a chance of drawing your name from the bowls."

"Hmmm…you as a wakeup call," he pondered, the tips of his fingers running lightly up and down your side. "But I already have that luxury. That pleasure. Why give that up now for the possibility of having it again later?" He tightened his hand around your thigh and pulled you on top of him, making you brace your hands on his chest. "Why don't we just enjoy the early morning…" he trailed off, running his hands up the side of your body and down to your hips. "Just like this?"

You let out a groan, leaning down to press a brief kiss to his cheek before making a motion to get up and out of the bed. "Because if we do this it could very well be my first and last time on the committee, which means that if you get called back next year, chances are I won't be working the event with you."

Stepping away from the bed, you held back a giggle from the sight of his absurdly long arm reach out for you before flopping down the side of the bed, fingertips barely grazing the floor. You had to turn around to focus on getting your clothes back on, seeing as the sight of his naked form stretching in bed with the sheets so haphazardly draped over him and barely covering him from the hips down served as quite the distraction.

Add to that the way that the sheets traveled down when he stretched, putting on a sluttish display of the well-defined Adonis belt that framed the smattering of hair from his belly button leading down a path you were all too familiar with. If you didn't look away now you would find yourself back in bed and taking him up on his offer, position in the committee and wakeup call assignments be damned.

Unfortunately you knew that you needed to be there when they drew names. You prided yourself in being fairly decent in reading people, and you saw how the other members of the committee eyed Tom. They would be there before the names were even in the bowl trying some way to rig the system and get his name on the off chance that maybe they would catch even a fraction of the glimpse of the view you'd had just seconds ago. The worst part was that you couldn't even blame them.

The only thing you could really do was make sure you had an equal chance of drawing his name, too.

You opted not to bother with your bra and underwear, seeing as you would end up showering when you got to the room that you were designated to share with two other members, Lilly and Simone, anyway. "Go back to sleep," you whispered into the relative darkness. "Whoever ends up drawing your name, just make sure you're fully ready because I don't trust them not to have a camera on them just to snap a picture."

"Will you do something for me, sweetheart?" he mumbled, seeing the silhouette of his hand raising as if reaching for yours in the dark. You put your hand in his once you'd slipped your shirt on, letting out a little squeal when he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. "Save me for last if you draw my name. I'll barely see you between my practice and whatever gets assigned to you for the day. If I get even a few minutes having you all to myself I want to savor it until the last possible second."

"I promise," you said with a giggle, easing your hand out of his and pressing a quick kiss to his lips before you headed out the door.

You tried your best to make as little sound as possible when you stepped through the door of your assigned room, not wanting to wake your roommates so rudely considering the ungodly hour. Of course, there was only so much you could do with the hinges of the door closer all but sounding trumpets at your return.

"Hmph…" Lilly groaned into the darkness. "There's no way it's already time for the briefing."

"Calm down, it's just me. We have half an hour, go back to sleep."

"Y/N?" Simone queried softly. "Bloody hell where'd you sneak off to? When you didn't come in last night we thought you fell asleep in the lobby prepping the media passes. Had half a mind to go out there and retrieve you so you could actually sleep on a bed."

"I appreciate the concern, but I'll have you know that I didn't pass out in the lobby, or a conference hall, or anywhere of the sort. My boyfriend's working the event, too. I spent the night with him." That announcement seemed to perk them both up considerably, both women sitting up from the bed. "I'm gonna take a shower and then we can all head over to the briefing together and see whose names we end up drawing."

"Please let me get Beck," Lilly whined. "My sister will be totally stoked and maybe I can even get him to greet her in a video or something." She was practically bouncing on her bed from excitement now. "Who do you two wanna get?"

"I don't much care who I get," you bluffed, blindly choosing an outfit from your suitcase. "What about you, Simone?"

"Asa," she answered without hesitation. "Absolutely adorable, that one." She then let out a stream of giggles. "I'll tell you who a handful of women would absolutely slaughter each other to draw, though. Heard them last night talking about how they were tempted to rig the bowls somehow just so things go their way and maybe they could get a glimpse of the famous bulge that Marvel needed to shell out some extra bucks for to buff out with CGI."

"Rig the bowls?" you huffed. "What're they gonna do, have Hiddleston's name printed in special textured paper so they can feel which one to pick out?"

"Upper level conspiracy material right there," Lilly joked. "I'd bet they'd try and trade with whoever ends up drawing him. Gotta admit, though. I wouldn't mind getting his name."

"Same," you and Simone murmured.

Twenty minutes later and the three of you stood among the other staff members in the briefing room, four bowls filled with paper strips lined up on a table in front of you, and the head of committee, Johanna, standing on the other side of the table with a clipboard in hand.

"Right then. Each of you step up, draw one name from each bowl, and hold on to them until everyone's drawn four names each, two from Team England, and two from Team World. Then and only then will you all take turns sharing the names you've drawn. No swapping." She looked at the members closest to the door, her gaze landing on you. "Y/L/N. You're up first."

Your heart was pounding in every part of your body the entire way through, hoping beyond hope that one of the scraps of paper that now laid in your hand held Tom's name. You watched as the other staff members approached the table one by one, some of them doing the sign of the cross before reaching their hand in, others outright expressing how they wished they'd drawn your boyfriend's name once the papers were in their hands. All the while you did your best to feign indifference, fighting against your body's knee jerk reactions of tensing your neck or glaring at them as if you were imagining what they'd look like if their hair suddenly caught fire.

Once everyone had four scraps of paper each, Johanna randomly called out your names, instructing you to share what was written on your respective papers. With each disappointed announcement came more blatantly optimistic expressions from the remaining members; Lilly proudly announced that she drew the TikTok influencer Beck, and Simone beamed as she read out the name "Butterfield".

You took a deep breath before opening the papers when your name was called, struggling to not show the relief that washed over you as you read out the names in your hand. "Bolt…Claflin…Scott…Hiddleston."

"Y/N name your price," one of the more outspoken members from earlier, Brynne, called out. "Come on, you'd still have--"

"Rules are rules, Brynne. You heard me earlier," Johanna's voice echoed through the room. "No swapping. You know your assignments. Meet back here at oh-eight-hundred to receive your designations for the rest of the day."

Passing through the wakeup call runs of the players from the World Team went off without a hitch, consisting purely of knocking on their doors, announcing your presence, and they were out within five minutes and off to the practice field. There was a tiny bit of an awkward interaction with Sam Claflin pointing at your neck and asking if you were alright because it looked "concerningly red", even wondering if it was a rash.

"Thanks for the concern, but I promise everything's fine," you answered him, not-so-casually moving your hair about so that it fell down in front of your shoulders and covered the area in question. "It's not a rash."

That got quite the reaction from him, causing fairly taller man to break out in chuckles and lightly shake a pointed finger in your direction. "You're quite the character. I hope whoever gave you that 'not a rash' appreciates that."

"I think he does," you quipped. "I mean we've been at this seven years and he doesn't seem bored yet so looks like I might be doing something right," you topped off with a shrug, heading to Jill Scott's room next. "Good luck out there."

"Lovely meeting you, Y/L/N," he said with a wave before heading off in the opposite direction.

A few minutes later you were knocking at the door to Jill's room, a ridiculous excitement slowly building inside of you and making you rock back and forth where you stood thinking about the next and final stop on your list before you had to return to the briefing room.

"Who is it?" you heard her call out from inside the room.

"It's Y/L/N. From staff," you said for the third time this morning. "Morning wakeup call."

"I'll be right out." A few moments later her door swung open, the woman greeting you with a warm smile. "Hey…Y/L/N, at the risk of sounding presumptuous or giving you cause of concern I have to ask you something."

Her premise took you aback, making you walk a little straighter and touch the ends of your hair, making sure that your neck was still considerably covered. "Pretty sure that just brought my blood pressure up a few points, but go ahead," you prompted her, trying to make light of the concern you were already feeling.

"It's just I noticed something whenever you passed by the field yesterday afternoon and--Ah screw it, best to just bite the bullet. You and Hiddleston…are you two an item?"

The question had your eyebrows shoot to your hairline. "Hmm? What uhh…what made you think that?"

"Well, if you two aren't a thing, I highly recommend letting the lad down easy because he looks at you like those videos of pets when they see their owners come home. Wide dopey eyes and like his heart wants to burst out of his stupidly wee jersey. That is the most irretrievably in love man I've ever seen with my own two eyes."

You didn't even bother to fight back the smile that stretched across your face. "We uhh…we are. I won't be letting anyone down easy today because honestly I'm so in love with the man it's borderline painful," you confirmed to her with a little shrug. "I may also be the one responsible for that tiny jersey currently fighting for its life. And the shorts. We're just trying to keep things a bit…less public, you know?"

She clapped her hands together loudly, suddenly looking victorious. "I knew it! For the record, you two make a lovely couple. His face lights up whenever he'd steal a glance your way yesterday. And when the other ladies from the committee try to chat him up, it's like he barely even registers that they're paying him any attention. You caught a rare one."

Her testimony on how he behaved when you weren't around had your heart swelling. If there was one thing that was eating away at you, it was the insecurity you felt knowing exactly who you were with and how much more objectively attractive those women that practically draped themselves over him were. And the fear always lingered in the back of your mind that one day he'd wake up and realize exactly that.

"I know," you choked out. "I really lucked out with him."

She pointed down the hall, starting to make her way to the elevator. "Am I last on your list or you have to make a few more stops?"

Your smile grew even wider, basically giving the answer away already. "No uhh…there's one more. Saving him for last."

A deviously amused toothy grin stretched across her face. "Ah, I see I see. Well I won't keep you. I'm sure you're excited to see him again."

You made your way back to Tom's room as fast as you could short of breaking out into a jog, practically power-walking down the halls until you rounded the final corner to the hallway where he'd carried you in his arms just the night before. Nearly even began to skip on your way there until you saw the small group of people that were waiting just a few doors away from his, the one closest to your destination being Brynne.

"Uhh…are you all waiting for your assigned players to get out or…?" you trailed off, already straightening your stance, deepening your voice, and taking on a posture that you only really dished out once in a blue moon. In private. With Tom.

Everyone but Brynne stepped away from their relaxed positions against the wall and walked back toward the elevator. You eyed the audacious, slightly taller auburn-haired woman expectantly. "Come on, Y/N. Be a team player here. Every time I've worked an event that involved him I don't even get the chance to be anywhere near him, I'm asking nicely please trade with me. I'll give you Payne--"

"Ew," you cut cut her off, not backing down from your 'boss lady-slash-domme' tone. "Shouldn't have led with that, Brynne. I mean I kinda feel for you that you got Mister more than big enough for you luv, when in fact I've been to children's parties that served vienna sausages bigger than what the guy's packing--"

"Exactly!" she empathized, letting out a chuckle and reaching for your hand as if to form a bond between you two. You knew better, though, and moved it just out of her arm's reach, knowing full well that the motion was meant to reach for the keycard you were suddenly holding tighter in your fist. "So please? Be a pal and let me shoot my shot?"

You did your best to keep your jaw unclenched, fighting every urge you had to make a show of this particular wakeup call and reveal the very blatant reason why you would not be helping her 'shoot her shot'. "You know, Brynne, I really wish I could help you but…it's my first year here and I really don't wanna get on Johanna's bad side by disobeying her 'no swapping' rule." The conspiratorial smirk on her face dropped, now eyeing you with incredulity as if you'd given her a resounding slap right to her ego.

With her more or less out of your way, you walked over to Tom's door and knocked three times, same as you did for the rest of your assignments.

"Who is it?" his muffled voice queried from the other side.

"It's Y/L/N. From staff," you called out. "Morning wakeup call."

You could practically hear the smile on his face as he spoke again. "Am I the last on your list?"

Oh sweetie there's no list. It's you. It's only ever gonna be you, you thought to yourself with a smirk. "Yup. Last one."

"Please, come in then." The eyes of your onlookers widened the side of saucers at what they heard. "I'm nearly ready, I wouldn't want you to wait out there on your feet. Come in, catch your breath. Really, I insist."

You made a show of looking a bit perplexed at the offer. "O-Oh. Uhm…alright then." You turned to give your fellow staff members a casual look, shrugging before using the keycard in your hand to open the door and slip into the room, your cheeks and neck already straining from the laughter you were reining in as you saw the image that greeted you. "That is not even remotely 'nearly ready'," you playfully accused, motioning to the towel that he held around his waist, water droplets still running down his torso from the shower you suspected he'd just finished at most a few minutes ago. "What if someone else drew your name?"

Before he could answer, you held a finger to your lips and pointed at the door, then signaled toward your ear to tell him that there were people outside listening, or as you snidely put it in your thoughts, 'rummaging for scraps'. "Simple, darling. I wouldn't have invited them in," he answered in a more hushed tone. "I really should finish getting ready, though. Wouldn't want to let this wakeup call go on for longer than is expected of me," he said in a teasing tone, making a motion as if to turn around.

The air left your lungs in a disbelieving chuckle as he released his hold on the towel, the weighed down fabric falling to the floor with a wet sounding thud, and baring every inch of his gloriously naked form to you.

You had to force yourself to look away, gripping the edge of the dresser so hard that you were sure the skin on your knuckles turned white the second you caught a glimpse of the perfectly rounded cheeks of his ass.

That was monumentally easier back when he was mere feet away from you, and now nearly impossible with the way he walked right up to you, lightly wrapping his fingers around one of your wrists and leaning in to bring his lips closer to your ear. "I noticed you didn't have anything to put your hair up. I know how you get when your hair starts to stick to your neck," he whispered, lips lightly brushing across the shell of your ear.

He leaned in even closer, his slightly damp chest pressing against your shoulder as he reached around behind you with his other arm to tie a ribbon around your wrist. Your breathing hitched in the bach of your throat when he stepped even closer, working his thigh between your legs as he dipped his head and traced along your neck with the tip of his nose. "I uhh…I have to get back to the briefing room by 8…" you trailed off with a whimper, letting out a soft moan the moment you felt him press a kiss to your neck.

"We have time," he murmured, pressing another kiss on the same spot and smiling against your skin when you tilted your head and exposed more of your neck to him. He hummed into your skin, pressing closer against you, taking a deep breath as if he was breathing you in. "Is this a new perfume?"

His question, coupled with how he continued to press kisses along your neck, hands leisurely roaming your body as if you two had all the time in the world, put your mind in a haze. "It uhh…it is. One of the girls I'm assigned to room with suggested I try it out."

You began to grow weak in his arms as he kissed a trail down to your chest, his hands traveling to the back of your thighs to lift you up onto the dresser. "It's divine on you," he breathed against your skin, his lips kissing up to the other side of your neck and making you rest your forehead against his shoulder, struggling to take deep breaths.

When he started nipping and sucking at your neck was when you had to hold a hand over your mouth before you moaned so loud that everyone outside and maybe even the room above you would know exactly what was going down in this room. "What--"

"The mark on your neck looked lonely. Let me fix that," he whispered into your skin before latching his lips onto your neck again and proceeding to bite and suck a bit harder, causing you to press your lips to his shoulder and muffle your moan that way.

When you felt the all too familiar flames of your desire start to lick at your skin, your hands found themselves gripping at his back, struggling to remain cautious to not dig your fingernails in and claw at him.

"No," he grumbled against your skin. "Don't hold back, goddess. Sink your teeth into my skin. Mark me. Let me have you with me all day long." He weaved his fingers into your hair and moved to press his shoulder harder against you, as if urging you even more to leave your mark on him the way he was currently doing for you. His grip at the base of your hair tightened when you bit down on his shoulder, groaning into your neck a near euphoric sound that nearly sounded like a guttural 'thank you'.

You pulled away first, nearly gasping for air. "I have to be out soon or they're going to start gossiping about what they think is happening in here."

"They wouldn't be gossiping, sweetheart, because they would be correct," he shot back with a chuckle, pressing a kiss to your cheek before stepping back from you and finally letting you down from the dresser, giving you a soft smile as he fixed your hair to cover both sides of your neck. "I'll be ready in two minutes. Grab a water before you leave, you look a bit flushed."

"Menace," you murmured, scrunching your nose at him and giggling when he tilted your head up and pressed a quick kiss to your lips before walking back into the bathroom to actually get ready. You made sure to take a few extra seconds before walking back outside. No sense in letting a perfectly good view go unappreciated.

As you'd suspected, Brynne and the other staff members were still outside when you stepped out of the room, water bottle in hand. "Wow…" she droned at you, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "If you were going to nick anything from the room, you shoulda gone for something with a bit more substance. Amateur."

"Okay first of all, I didn't swipe this," you bit back, your tone from earlier suddenly making a return and causing a few of the staff members to flinch at the sudden shift in the room. "He told me grab one, said something about me looking 'redder than usual'. Second? If you have a problem with me being assigned to this particular player, take it up with Johanna. Because frankly I don't have the fucks to spare to deal with your petty toddler pageant behavior."

She stood in front of you gobsmacked, a small sound of utter shock escaping her when you made sure to bump against her shoulder hard when you walked past her as the door to Tom's room opened.

"Oh…I suppose you're all here to perform wakeup calls for your assigned players? Like Y/N?"

His words seemed to snap everyone out of their reverie and they haphazardly approached the doors and knocked, hollering their names and telling the person on the other side that they were there for the morning wakeup call. Your boyfriend let out a soft chuckle, subtly shaking his head at their antics and lightly touching the inside of your wrist before signaling for you two to walk toward the elevators.

"Am I mistaken or did I hear you using that voice you have tucked away for some of our more creative nights out here?" he asked under his breath, deftly swiping the bottle from your hand and bringing it to his lips to take a few gulps before handing it back to you.

"Had to," you answered before you finished off the contents of the bottle. "She was trying to make a move on what's mine."

That had him quickly wrapping his hand around your elbow and leading you into a more narrow hallway that probably led into the hotel staff's service walkways, walking you back against the wall and lightly gripping your chin with his thumb and forefinger. "Much as I adore it when you get a touch territorial, you do know that no one will ever succeed? There's no one in this world that can lure me away from you. I'm yours. Always."

You rose to the tips of your toes, bringing a smile to his face as he met you halfway, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. "I love you," you murmured against his lips, letting out a whiny whimper when you heard the footsteps of the other players and staff members about to round the corner.

"I love you, too." He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before you two parted ways and he went toward the elevator, casually greeting the other players as he met them. Meanwhile you made your way back to the briefing room, surprised to find yourself the first one there.

"Ah. Y/L/N. With fifteen minutes to spare, too," Johanna greeted you. "How'd you like to be assigned to set up for the Elementals video?"

You fought to keep back the sheer joy that you felt from the offer, the knowledge that you'd be seeing Tom again in a short while filling you with so much excitement you were itching to dance on the spot. "I'd like that very much. Thanks, Johanna."

A/N: I was supposed to have posted this yesterday during my birthday but I got sidetracked building a Baby Groot Lego set 😂🫡 There's about 4 more stories that take place during Soccer Aid week for these two and honestly I can't wait for y'all to see what else I have in store for them because they're precious menaces in love 🥹🥹

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @gigglingtiggerv2

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston imagine #muddyorbs writes

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touteslespetiteschosess · 1 year ago

Text

Is It Over Now? || Kylian Mbappé

Plot: Kylian and y/n have been fighting for so long, she's not even sure she knows what they're fighting for anymore. Angst.

Warnings: toxic relationship

Word count: 3458

Masterlist

y/n well done on your goal, amour x will you want dinner when you get home? i'm making myself some pasta so i'll do extra for you x do you know what time you'll be home? i've left some food in the fridge for you x kylian can you reply please? i'm worried it's getting late, where are you?

A deep frown was etched on her face, she stared at her ignored texts, the oldest sent five hours ago and the most recent nearly an hour ago. None of them had received a response and neither had her calls.

She hadn't been able to go to his match today, as she'd already arranged to go out for her friend's birthday in the morning. Kylian hadn't minded though, it wasn't a particularly important match and she rarely missed any of his games, so she could be forgiven for this. Surely that wasn't why he was ignoring her. Well, knowing him at the moment she could easily conclude that there was no reason behind the radio silence. He was just being Kylian.

Dick.

She knew he probably had no reason to ignore her; he was most likely just over at Achraf's and didn't value her emotions enough to dain her with a text back. Still, having been alone in the house for so many hours with only her thoughts to keep her company, she couldn't stop her mind from wandering. It only felt natural to pick up her phone and she really couldn't help herself from opening Instagram. Her thumbs had a mind of their own, opening one of his fan accounts.

Then there he was, grainy footage of him on their story at some club in Paris, surrounded by his teammates. And then there was somebody else. Some girl sat at his side- on his side more really- his arm flopped lazily over the back of the booth behind her.

She was saying something and he was laughing. He was laughing in a way that he never did with y/n anymore. Wow, he was really laughing- surely nothing she said could be that funny.

The video was short, maybe five seconds, but she restarted it, watching it again, feeling a fire raging within her. The next story was a photo that some stranger in the club had taken. The pair were on the dance floor, none of his friends were in sight now. Her hands were up in the air and only now did y/n notice the girl's outfit. She wore a little red dress, just like the one that hung up in y/n and Kylian's shared closet. It was his favourite dress and she knew it.

At the sight, the fire that burned within her suddenly settled, an eery calm setting over her. After a few moments, she headed upstairs and drew a bath, watching the water slowly rise up the tub's sides. She loved that bath; the tub was huge, yet elegant, and sat right in front of a huge window which gave the most amazing view of the Eiffel Tower. Besides that, she and Kylian had spent some memorable nights in this bathtub. Not for a while though, she thought.

Now that she really considered it, she wasn't sure how many good memories she had with Kylian in the last six months. Maybe after three years together, she'd just grown used to the knowledge that she loved him and hadn't considered if he still deserved it. Maybe she hadn't considered if he still deserved her.

Maybe she'd been so caught up in the idea of the perfect man she'd met in that bar three years ago. She still remembered that innocent smile so vividly, the way he'd lift his glass to sip, almost hiding behind the thing. How every time she'd flirt with him, he'd blush like a schoolboy, and then suddenly shoot back with the most outrageous comment.

How a month after they'd started dating, the pandemic hit, and he'd turned up at her door, much to her disapproval. Then, he'd immediately asked her to move in with him. She still remembered his words.

Take a chance. If we're gonna go down, let's go down in flames. I don't wanna forget you, baby.

That aged like room-temperature milk.

He'd convinced her so easily, his charming smile and smooth words always getting the best of her. And he'd been right. Those had been the best few months of her life.

And even after lockdown, when she was back at work and football became more full on, everything had just seemed so right. He just seemed so right.

Every time he'd go away for matches, he'd always find some stupid trinket to bring home for her. The tradition had started the week they'd met, when she'd asked him out on another date and he'd had to turn her down, as he was playing away in Italy. He'd brought her back a little keyring- a pizza with Italia written on it. It was so tacky and so cheesy that she immediately fell in love... with the keyring. Their fridge was still littered with far too many magnets to count, very out of place in his black and white, minimalist kitchen.

Of course, she remembered the first gift, and she remembered the first time he'd forgotten. It was after an away match to Manchester City. An away match that had knocked PSG out of the Champions League- in the semi-finals.

It wasn't that she'd been expecting a gift- no, she completely understood. It was difficult for him; he'd been injured and therefore couldn't play the second leg. He'd had to go all the way to Manchester and didn't even get to kick the ball. He just had to sit on the bench and watch his dream fade before his eyes.

Despite not playing, she knew he blamed himself. He always blamed himself. For the injury. For not scoring in the first leg. For everything.

At the time, she hadn't been upset that he hadn't bought her some shitty magnet for their already cluttered fridge or a bottle opener for their already stuffed drawer. Besides, Manchester didn't have much to offer in the tourism department besides football, so she could forgive him for not wanting to search through shops full of his opponents' memorabilia, just to uphold their tradition.

Looking back on it though, that was the moment he snapped. Three weeks later, he'd returned from Reims empty-handed; when she'd playfully questioned him, asking how she was supposed to sleep at night without an 'I <3 Reims' t-shirt, he'd grunted something about being busy with work and she tried not to let her face fall, wishing he'd have just made some stupid joke in response.

Y/n, I can't afford to keep buying you all these presents.

Honey, nobody hearts Reims.

Well, I had some grapes for you but I got peckish.

But no, he'd just grumbled some excuse and gone up to their room. They'd won the game too. The last match of the season. Sure, they hadn't won the league but that fate had been sealed weeks ago.

Of course, at the time, she hadn't sat up at night, tossing and turning because her relationship was over. She'd understood. For him, she'd understood.

Then, the trinkets began to come every other away match, then once a month, once every few months, and then they stopped coming. The last remnant of their once-sacred tradition still sat on her fridge. He'd brought it back after an unremarkable league tie against Nice. A little magnet in the shape of a palm tree, in the colours of the French flag, with two words on it.

Trés Nice!

What did that even mean? Neither of them were sure. She loved it.

After that, however, the keyrings, and magnets, and bottle openers, and t-shirts, and pens had suddenly stopped. Not trés Nice!

The bath was full, the bubble bath she'd added working a treat. Slowly, she eased herself into the warm water, sighing as she settled back in the tub. She didn't even have her phone but she really didn't care. For what must have been an hour, she stared out the window at the city below her. From his castle, she watched his kingdom, knowing she didn't have a place in it anymore.

She stared at the dark streets they used to haunt, giggling hand in hand as they snook out of their apartment for late-night strolls (though it was always technically morning) down streets that at any other hour would be packed with hundreds of people, pointing at Kylian. Or when they used to go to tourist attractions in the middle of the winter and he'd pull on a balaclava, dragging her up the Eiffel Tower or the Champs Elysees, insisting her liked the thrill. In truth, so did she.

She liked standing hand in hand with him, knowing the crowds around them had no idea Kylian Mbappé was in their midst, and they never would because he was her Kylian. For that moment, at least.

It was late when she heard the door downstairs, the security system blaring loudly. She didn't panic, as it quickly turned off. He didn't say a word on his arrival. She could hear him drawing closer to their bedroom, his feet heavy on the stairs, in the hallway, in their room, approaching the bathroom door.

She thought he'd let his guard down when they first met, telling her his worries and fears, but maybe he only truly knocked down his walls that night in the bathroom months ago, showing his true self.

Maybe she only truly got to know him after Qatar, when he really snapped. When she'd tried to comfort him and he'd yelled at her because she'd never truly understand what he was going through. She'd told him she was sorry. She'd apologised. For what? She still wasn't quite sure.

Maybe she only truly knew Kylian when she'd been struggling at work, doing overtime to catch up on her ridiculous workload at home. She'd missed his match and he'd lost; then, when he returned home and she hadn't been in the mood for kisses and cuddles, he'd been furious. He'd said it was her fault she was stressed- she'd brought it on herself. She could quit her job any day and never worry about money again. She'd tried to explain but he couldn't comprehend her need for self-reliance. If anything, he was insulted that she didn't trust him enough to let him take care of her. He'd never been overly traditional or had an obviously fragile masculinity but that night she'd questioned everything she thought she knew about him.

Of course, he'd apologised the next morning and she'd forgiven him. They were both stressed and there was no reason to let one pressure-fueled spat escalate into more than it needed to. Then those one-off spats became more and more common until they were the norm. If they weren't in silence, they were fighting.

They only found peace when they were fucking. Even that physicality wasn't what it once was, no longer the same slow, gentle love-making. Now it was always quick, desperate, his once soft kisses now left bruises and his whispers of sweet nothings had morphed into wordless grunts and moans.

Is that all this relationship was anymore? Physical.

Light flooded the dimly-lit bathroom, as he swung the door open carelessly. He looked almost taken back at the sight of her, his eyebrows raising a little, as though he hadn't expected to see her here- in her own house.

Then again, maybe it wasn't her house. Sure, she'd lived here for almost as long as they'd been together but it was never really her house. It was Kylian's house in Kylian's city, and she was here too.

He stared at her for a few seconds before smirking, "Hey." he mumbled, already stripping down to join her.

She sunk further down in the tub, allowing the thick layer of bubbles to give her back her modesty. Silently, she watched him, her lips a flat line, her eyes on his face, not his naked body. He wasn't looking back at her. He was too focused on hastily ripping of his trousers and his shirt.

Without hesitation or any more words exchanged, he climbed in the tub and she leant forward as he slipped behind her. She wanted to be held in his arms just one more time, to feel his body against hers. He positioned his legs on either side of her, his arms flopping over her shoulders, as he pulled her back into his chest. Resting his face on her shoulder, he let out a noise, somewhere between a contented hum and a whine.

She ignored him, turning her head to stare out of the window. The city's skyline was dark and at this time, the tower's lights were off. Now, it was just a dark silhouette against a dark horizon, only made visible by the bright light of the full moon.

"What are you sulking about?"

As he spoke, she could smell the alcohol on his breath and she almost wretched at the scent. Her voice was calm and steady, as she asked, "Where have you been?"

Her voice sounded like she had an innocent curiosity in the question as if she didn't already know the answer, or she was merely asking to make small talk.

"Oh, some of the team wanted to go out to celebrate the win."

He didn't lift his head from her shoulder, placing a soft kiss on the damp skin. He lied with such ease. Well, he hadn't entirely lied, just withheld some important elements of the truth. Maybe she'd have preferred it if he'd just lied to her. At least then he would have had to make a conscious effort to deceive her. No, this felt so much worse; he spoke with such ease, as though it was the whole truth, and maybe he too believed it. Maybe he believed that she didn't need to know about the girl in the red dress, just like he'd believed she didn't need a text back, or a kiss goodbye before he left the house this morning, or a goodnight before she fell asleep last night or the night before that or the night before that.

"And who was that girl?" she asked, her voice still chirpy, not a hint of bitterness showing in her tone.

"Huh?" he twisted his head, the side of it on her shoulder, gazing up at her face.

"The girl you were with. She was in a red dress, like the one I have. Blonde hair and-"

"Oh," he cut her off quickly, "she's one of Ousmane's friends, I think."

"You think?"

"Mhm, I don't really know. I didn't speak to her that much."

Now, that wasn't a half-truth, that was simply a lie.

"Oh, okay. Just 'cause you seemed really friendly with her."

He scoffed, lifting his head, his tone suddenly switching, "What, were you stalking me?"

"No, but you didn't reply to my texts and you came home seven hours after the match finished, so I wanted to make sure you weren't dead in some ditch."

"Of course, I wasn't. Can I not have a night out with my friends?"

"Yeah, that's fine but you didn't fucking text me back and the next thing I see you've got some random girl in your lap at the club and you don't even have the courtesy to tell me about it."

"It wasn't like that! Why would I come home and tell my girlfriend that some nobody had been coming onto me in the club?" he snapped.

"Because you were coming onto her too! Don't you think I deserved to be warned that people were going to post pictures of my boyfriend with someone else! It's fucking humiliating!"

She stood up and climbed out of the bath, wanting to get as far away from him as possible. She quickly grabbed her robe from where it hung and wrap it around herself. She sat on the little ottoman in the corner, hugging her arms around herself.

"What are you saying? You know I wouldn't cheat on you!"

He yelled the statement as though it were a fact. Maybe he believed it. He seemed to believe a lot of things. Maybe he just didn't think about her perspective much.

"No, I don't! What reason have you given me to trust you?"

His face fell into an expression of fury, "What are you talking about?"

"I don't know, Kylian!" she almost yelled and almost sighed, somewhere in the middle, "I don't know. What are we even doing this for?"

"You tell me! You're the one picking a fight for no reason!"

"No, not this just... why are we here? We keep fighting and I don't know what for."

He stood up, "What..."

"I'm not happy! You're not happy! What's the point!"

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he rushed over to her, "I'm happy, of course I am!"

"Well, I'm not." she murmured, standing up from the seat and heading for the bathroom door.

"What are you doing, where are you going?" he asked, panic setting over him.

"Away," she muttered, heading to the closet.

"No, you're not." he declared, chasing after her, "Look, baby, I'm sorry, okay?" Ignoring him, she began to change into some joggers and a hoodie. "Y/n, you're not leaving me."

"Why not? All we ever do is fight! There's no point in us being together if we make each other fucking miserable!"

"I told you, you make me happy! You make me happier than anyone else in the world!"

"Why don't you treat me like it then? Why don't you treat me like I'm worth anything? Like I'm a fucking human being!"

He was quiet, watching her as she grabbed a bag and started to toss clothes into it. "Y/n, I love you. I-"

"Do you, though? Really?"

"I do. Look I know I've been busy with work but you know how stressful my job is. I'm trying to be here for you and do my best for the team-"

"No, you're not. I know how hard you work but I have needs too. I can't keep doing this."

She dropped to her knees, zipping up the bag, packed with enough clothes for a few days. He stood in the doorway, blocking her exit as she tried to get her toothbrush from the bathroom.

As she stood in front of him, he took her hands in his, "Please, baby, I'll change. I'll do it for you, I swear."

"It's too late, Ky," she said, shoving past him. He didn't budge, "Kylian, get out of my way."

He clutched her hands as though his life depended on it, placing soft kisses on both of them, "I need you. You can't leave me."

"You should have thought about that before, shouldn't you?"

She shoved him out of the way and grabbed a few things from the bathroom before heading for the front door. He chased after her, his mind racing and his heart pumping a mile a minute in his chest. He swore it was working so hard he could hear his heartbeat in his ears- or was it the sound of her feet on the stairs?

"Y/n," God, her name sounded so right on his lips, he wanted to say her name forevermore, "she meant nothing. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have entertained her like that." Tears were forming in his hazel eyes, he watched her putting on her shoes, "Y/n, you can't leave me, I love you. I- I don't want to live without you. I don't want to be on my own."

"Kylian," she stood up and cupped his cheek. Her hand was so warm and fit so perfectly around his face, as though it was moulded just for it, "you know I'll always love you."

Covering her hand with his own, he shook his head, a single tear rolling down his cheek, "Don't do this to me, amour."

She hated seeing him like this: he barely ever cried. In all of their time together, she'd seen him cry maybe four times and it had never been because of her.

Her soft thumb wiped away the tear, "Don't cry. You'll be okay."

Then she was gone. The door was open and then it was closed. She was there and then she was gone.

He watched the space she'd been stood in for far too long, as though she'd swing the door open at any moment and declare that she'd had a sudden change of heart. But she wouldn't.

She was gone. It was over.

Masterlist

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe x you #kylian x reader #kylian fanfic #kylian imagines #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe x y/n #mbappé #mbappe #footballer #france #fanfic #football #french

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poke-me-with-a-stick · 7 months ago

Text

Chapter 31 of 'Artificial Wingman!'

for the entire story, click Here!

Enjoy!

---

Jason eyed Danny from his position on the couch, pretending to be completely engrossed in his book. Ever since the other morning, the teen had been acting... weird. At least, weirder than normal.

It had started when Jason had got up the day prior. As per usual after a gruling patrol, after breakfast and a shower, he had passed out as soon as his head touched the pillow, and stayed asleep until the sun was just an hour or two from setting. He probably would have slept in longer, but his stomach had made it's need for food known, and his bladder wasn't too happy with him either.

When he walked into the kitchen, intending to put together the world's greatest sandwich to tame his hunger, he had come in to the sight of the Demon brat and Jazz fast asleep, Jazz curled up like a content cat in the arm chair and Damien sprawled ungracefully on the couch. Both had been covered in throw blankets, and a Disney movie played on in the background. The only person not asleep had been Danny, who on first glance seemed to be back to working on his gun. And Jason would have left it at that, if not for the teen seeming to panic as he walked into the kitchen.

He had startled, flailed a bit as he whirled around to face the man. The gun had been hastily shoved under a pillow, out of Jason's line of sight. "Heeeey," The kid had drawled, his midwestern accent making the word roll off his tongue naturally. "I, uh. Didn't hear you get up?"

"...Okay?" Jason had raised an eyebrow at the teen, still not awake enough to deal with whatever was going on with him. "I got hungry. It's almost dinner time." He pointed out, his tone dry.

"It is?" Danny blinked owlishly at him before looking at the time. "Huh, I guess it is."

Jason couldn't help but smirk at the kid. "What, to absorbed in your work or something?"

It was meant to be a joke, just some light ribbing that was natural between him and his friends and family. Instead of laughing or rolling his eyes, like Jason was used to, the teen seemed to grow tense. His eyes drifted to the wall above Jason's shoulder, obviously trying not to look directly at the man, as he tried to laugh it off. "Me? Absorbed in my work? Psh, nah! I would never! Haha..." his laugh was audibly strained.

An awkward silence fell between them, Jason staring as the teen figited in place. "Uh-huh. Right, okay." Jason had to force himself to break the silence. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm starved. How's about you wake those two up, and I'll make us all some sandwiches?" He had barely finished talking before Danny nodded enthusiastically, practiacally leaping to wake the others in the room.

Jason didn't mention Danny's weird behavior to either his sister or Damien, but he couldn't let it go either. And the more he observed the teen, the more he was convinced that Danny was hiding something.

That led to now. With Jason's face half-burried in his book and Danny fiddling with the gun's casing. Fiddling, not actually doing anything besides screwing and unscrewing the screws that fixed everything together. Every few minutes, he would put down his weird glowing screwdriver and pass his hand over the odd glass beakers on the back, almost as if checking for a change in them. Jason was left to assume he didn't find what he was looking for, as he would flip the gun and pick up his screwdriver again and repeat the process.

Finally, Jason had had enough. He closed his book and set it aside with an overly loud sigh. Just like he knew it would, his movement drew Danny's attention immediatly. "Okay, I can't stand this anymore." Jason let the exasperation leak into his tone and he stood from his arm chair, only to walk a few feet and flop down next to the teenager.

Danny let out a startled half-chirp, half-wheeze sound that shouldn't be possible for human vocal cords, quickly shoving the gun under the nearest pillow. "W-what do you need?" He asked, clearly trying for casual.

Jason shot him a look, one that conveyed just how much Danny wasn't fooling him. "What I need," Jason began, "Is for you to tell me what the Hell is going on with you. You've been acting off since yesterday, and I want to know why."

"Nothing is going on!" The teen answers, a little too quickly. He looked away from Jason, his eyes going his hands. It was way too obvious that he was lying. 'We definatly have to work on that,' Jason couldn't help but think, frowning at him.

Sitting up, Jason sighed. "Yeah, alright. The thing is, you see, when you look away like that, it makes it kinda obvious that you're lying to me." The teen jerked his gaze back to Jason's immediatly, swallowing hard as he met the deceptivally relaxed facade that the man wore. "Now that I have your attention, lets try this again. What happened between yesterday morning and now that has you so..." He trailed off as he tried to think of the word to descripe the teen. "...Paranoid?"

Danny seemed to hesitate, guilt shining through his unnaturally blue eyes. "I-" He stopped, as if searching for the words. Sighing, he seemed to deflate in defeat. "I've been lying about something." He admitted, his voice quiet.

Caution rose steadily in Jason. "Lied about what?" Had he lied about his feelings? Or maybe the potion? Was this about the 'cure' they seemed to have? Or maybe the original Love Potion? Jason's mind ran wild with thoughts and theories. "Is it something to do with you and Da- I mean, Robin?"

The teen seemed to sense the double meaning to the seemingly innocent words. "No!" He shook his head frantically. "No, no no! Nothing like that, I promise!" His assurences, despite the desperation in how he expressed them, seemed genuine enough.

A small sigh of relief escaped him as he nodded at the teen. "Okay, not to do with that. Then, what is it?" His suspision fell back to the gun, stashed not even a foot from him. "Does it have to do with that?" He gestured to the weapon, where it barely peeked out from the cushion.

The halfa's flinch was all the comformation he needed. "Y-yeah." He mumbled, his head dropping in shame.

"Is there something wrong with it?" God, Jason hoped not. The kid was the only one who seemed to understand how it functioned. Heck the only person that Jason could think of that might be able to help would be Tim, and that was if he didn't have an anrism at the spare parts that were used to make the damned thing.

"No, there's nothing wrong with it." Danny chuckled sheepishly as he reassured the man, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck nervously. "The opposite, actually. It's, um..." His other hand came up in a slighly aborted gesture. "It's fixed. Tada?"

Relief that he didn't have to try and understand whatever rocket science went into that abomnible creation temperarily stopped him from realising the full impact of the teen's words. "It's...fixed?" The teen nodded, not looking at him. "Like, fully functional and ready to use?"

"Well..." Danny's hand fell from his neck as his other came up in a so-so gesture. "It's functional, but it can't be used yet." Finally, the teen's head came up, though he still refused to look Jason in the eye. "It has no energy to function yet, so it's in power-collection mode, I guess." Turning slightly, the halfa pulls the gun from under the pillow, handing it to Jason for a closer inspection.

"So, it's fixed, but you can't use it yet?" He turned the gun this way and that, examining the Sci-fy weapon for anything odd. Well, odd-er than a gun that's soul purpose was to shoot a hole in the fabric of space and time.

"Nope. It's basically like a toy without it's batteries. It's cool, and fun to goof off with, but it doesn't do any of the things it's supposed to." His fingers grazed over the glass tubes on the back. "It'll take a few days for it to absorb the needed ecto for us to get home, so it's basically just a waiting game." As he spoke, a slight green sheen formed along the glass's surface, seemingly following the motion of his hand. When Danny pulled his hand back, the glow faded, but didn't disappear.

Satisfied, Jason handed the gun back to the teen. "Okay, so it's fixed. Why does that have you acting all weird?" It didn't make much sense. The whole reason they came here, to one of his more secret safehouses, was so that Danny could fix his gun. Why would he try and hide the fact that it was done, charging up and safe to use?

Obviously, Danny thought the answer was more than obvious. "Your serious?" He asked, his face screaming his disbelief. "You can't think of the one reason I wouldn't want to tell everyone?" When Jason shook his head, Danny let out a shocked giggle. It faded a bit into a whine of distress, making Jason eye the kid worriedly.

Before he could try and comfort the kid, as awkward and stilted as it would be, he spoke up. "If mine and Jazz's way home is ready to go, then what excuse do I have to stay?" The words were whispered, and wouldn't have been audible if Jason hadn't been right beside him.

The words struck him like a wooden plank to the head. Of course, how dumb could he be? Of course the kid would see it like that, like the only reason he was there to begin with was because he had no way home. To suddenly have a way home again? Why would he stay? He had no reason for remaining in this dimension. No reason, other than the fact that he was falling in love. But someone like the kid, like Danny, wouldn't see it that way. Especially if he still thought that Damien's feelings were purely caused by that potion.

Jason bit back a curse. Shook his head. Now was not the time to figure out the thought process the teen had gone through. Not when he was actively curling in on himself. Jason got the feeling that the kid hadn't really processed what completing the gun meant either. He knew what it meant, obviously, but it hadn't sunken in until his hand had been forced. Until he'd had to say the words out loud. The look of desperation and despair and acceptance on his face was heartwrentching to look at.

"Y'know, you don't necessarily have to have a reason to stay." Jason pointed out, speaking in a hushed voice.

"What do you mean? Of course I have to have a reason!" Danny turned to look at Jason again. "If I don't have a reason, that means I have to leave. I have responsibilities, a home, a life! I can't just up and disappear without having some sort of excuse for it! People would be worried, or want to know where I was!"

And that was the root of the problem, Jason realized suddenly. It wasn't that Danny thought he needed a reason to stay, it was that he needed to justify his absence to others. "Danny," without meaning to, Jason's voice softened, something that ususally only happened when comforting small alley children. "You don't have to justify yourself to anyone. If you want to stay longer, then you can. No one would blame you for it, and if they did, then they shouldn't be important to you anyways."

Danny huffed out a laugh. "I know that," He admitted. "I know I don't have to have a reason. But it just feels..." His words tapered off as he tried to think of what to say. Groaning, he burried his face in his hands.

"It feels wrong, because you think it's selfish."

"Well, yeah. It is selfish, isn't it? Because first I was staying because I didn't have a way home, and then it was because Robin needed my help with the potion's effects. But the cure is done and ready for Robin to take, and I have my way home charging up as we speak. The next step should be to just... go home." His hand rested on his chest, gripping tightly at his shirt. "But it, it hurts to even think of leaving. The thought of leaving Robin behind, or Robin taking the cure and me being right? It makes my core ache."

Jason could tell the teen wasn't really paying attention to just what he was admitting. The confusion on his face as he basically poured his heart out, the way he clutched at his chest as if the pain he felt was phyiscally effecting him. It took everything Jason had not to smile as he realized just how far the teen had fallen for his demon of a younger brother.

'It's like he came straight out of a Young Adult romance novel.' The thought, while true, was not helpful in the moment. Instead of bemoaning that his younger brother got to live the fantasy, he tried to think about what would get through to the kid.

Jason wasn't the best at comforting people in dire situations, he was basically flying blind here. Talking out feelings was not any of his families strong suits. But listening to this scrawny adoption bait practically wax poetica about his little brother, the one everyone was sure would either end up filling the mansion with cats, or marrying Jon, because of poor social skills(a distinct lack of interest in pointless civilian matters), made him search through all his people skills for the right thing to say.

"You know, you don't have to stay gone." That was part of the problem, right? Danny didn't want to leave Damian and never see him again.

"...what?" The confusion broke through the heartbreaking agony that the kid had been wallowing in.

"Yeah, you've got that gun fixed, at least enough to get back home. What's stopping you from coming back?" The panic and pain faded from the kid's face for a moment, before returning.

"But what if I'm right, and the potion works? Would Robin even still want to see me again?" The teen pulled his knees to his chest, tucking his feet beneath him and burying his face in his knees. "I know that after the love spell that made me fall in love with Sa- I mean, one of my friends, things were super akward between us. Would he still want to hang out around me?" If the kid didn't have density shifting powers, then Jason would be sure he coulnd't shove his face any further into his knees. He winced in sympathy, knowing that the kid would feel the imprints of his jeans later.

"Well, that sounds like a lot of 'What if's' again, kid." He decided that he'd question that 'Love Spell' bit later. Right now, he had to pull this kid's head out of his own doubts. "And we did talk about that already, didn't we?" Danny made a relunctant sound of agreement. "Right. So what changed? What made that conversation fly out of your head?"

"..." Danny was silent, his chest barely rising as Jason waited for an answer. Finally, a noise barely above a whisper, so quiet that Jason almost missed it. "I don't know."

"You... don't know what brought on all these thoughts?" The man tried to gently press the teen to think about it more. "There must have been something that made you spiral, right? It's not just about Robin not wanting to be around you, is it?" Danny hesitantly lifted his head, side eyeing Jason as he continued to prod. "And it can't be because your scared of what people would think of you. No offence, but you seem more of the 'doing things regardless' type."

"...well, I did mention that thing about my core, right?" The teen brought up hesitantly.

"Yeah, you did." Jason remembered. "The way you talked about it, you made it sound like it was your heart or something."

Danny laughed awkwardly. "Yeah, something like that." The teen sighed, uncurling slightly. "Okay, so to just call a core a heart is a massive understatement. A core is... like a heart and a brain and an immune system and a filter all in one." Jason couldn't help but blink blankly at the teen, his brain trying to process the amalgamation of words that he used to describe whatever a 'core' was.

When he felt like he had a handle on it, he nodded for the teen to continue. "So, cores do all these things for ghosts that the human body does for normal people. It's super important, and if anything happens to the core, it can hurt or even destabilize a ghost, which is basically like a more painful second death, one where you fade from the world instead of existing as a different entity." Jason nodded, focusing more on the core thing than the teen infront of him hinting at dying at some point.

"But it's not just physical injuries you have to look out for. Ghosts are emotional beings. My parents think that ghosts are just emotions imprinted on ectoplasm, not thinking or feeling being. They only got one thing right in all of that." The agony had faded from the teen's face finally, and in it's place, an intense focus as he tried to explain. Jason was counting it as a temporary win.

"So ghost are made of emotion?" It was the only thing that could make sense out of all of that, if only one part was right.

Danny snapped his finger and pointed at the man. "Got it in one. Ghosts are born from ectoplasm rich areas and an intense emotional output upon death. Smaller, less sentient ghosts that are born from emotions imprinting on ectoplasm without a death are blob ghosts."

"Blob ghosts?" Jason asked.

"They have a more technical name that Frostbite uses, but I usually just call the blob ghosts. 'Cause they're litteral blobs with faces that float around. They actually have an important job, keeping ectoplasm from getting stale or too thin in places close to portals and such..." The halfa physically shook his head, black hair fluffing up in a small cloud before settling messily again. "That's something I'll get into later. I was talking about cores."

"Right. Cores, something about... emotions?" The man leaned forwards a bit, resting his elbow on his knee as he reminded the teen where he had diverged from the original topic.

"Oh! Thanks. So, ghosts are made partially from emotion. We have obsession, things that we liked in life, or bring forth a particullarly strong emotional responce. Like, I have two, a main one and a passive one. Both are really good at bringing up emotions like contenment and excitment, which helps to generate ectoplasm and feeds my core. Because I'm half human, I don't have to rely on just my obsessions or the 'Zone to keep my core running. But just as much as emotions feed ghosts, the wrong emotion can hurt them. Things like rejection have to be handled delicatly, or you risk a core cracking. And ghosts being emotional being, we tend to get... attached, pretty easily. Even when we try not to." The kid let out a bitter laugh, running his hand through his hair.

"Wow. That's, uh. Definatly a lot to take in." Jason leaned away from the teen a bit. "Okay, so we should probably do a 'Ghosts 101' sometime. But for now..." Jason sorted through all the information he had just been given, internally thanking his bat training as he did. "So bad emotions hurt you, and things that bring up strong bad emotions can hurt you just as much as a physical injury?"

"If not more so, in some cases." Danny nodded. "Actually, emotional hurt is way worse than any physical injury. We can litterally lose limbs and regrow them in a day or so."

"I'm... gonna think about that later." Jason steered the conversation back on track. "Anyway, negative emotions are bad for ghosts. And you tried not to get attached, right? So you wouldn't hurt when you had to leave?"

"Lot of good that did me!" Danny huffed, crossing his arms.

"So when you think about leaving... oh. Oh." That made a lot more sense. "Huh."

"Yeah," Danny rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't really register it until a few hours ago. I thought that it wouldn't be as bad with me, because of my, ah, unique situation." He gestured to himself vaguely. "But it appears that still being mostly alive does not exclude me from the side effects of emotional attachment." The way he said those last two words made Jason's lips tip up at the corners.

"So leaving would physically hurt you?" Jason clarified the true situation at hand. Danny looked like he wanted to protest, but let his shoulders droop in defeat as he nodded.

"Leaving without knowing if the emotional bond is truly broken or not would be like slowly being poisoned, especially if I never saw him again. And having the bond break quickly would be like breaking a bone." The teen grimaced, rubbing his hand over his chest again, as if he could feel the sensation. Knowing what he does now, it honestly wouldn't surprise Jason one bit.

"Well, what if you left before he took the cure?" Jason didn't know where the thought came from, but it made the teen pause and think again. "You could leave knowing the bond is mutual, and come back later when your more prepared for a negative reaction. Would that work?"

Danny considered it for a minute before hesitantly nodding. "I...guess that would work? At the very least, I could talk to Frostbite about it. If anyone knows how to safely break an emotional bond, or at least prepare for one to break, it would be him." Danny's face screwed up in a mixture of very identifiable emotions as he spoke.

"Hey, chin up." He gently bopped the teen's head, grinning at the indignant look he was faced with. "It would be good to talk to this Frostbite person, whoever that is, and be ready for if it happens. But," he looked Danny directly in the eyes, "that doesn't mean you have to focus on the bad outcome. Robin could be right, and he might keep his feelings, or he might not be in love with you, but still want to be friends." The halfa didn't look totally convinced, but he nodded anyways.

Jason sighed, leaning back into the couch. This was the best he could do on that front for the time being. Deciding to drop the topic for now, the man changed subjects. "You know that you'll have to tell Robin and your sister about the gun, right?"

Danny flinched slightly, but nodded. "Yeah, I know. I had planned on telling them...eventually..." He ducked his head again, this time out of embarrassment. Jason cracked a grin before forcing his expression back to a serious one.

"Well, I won't say anything." The teen perked up, a look of disbelief on his face. "But you need to tell them. Perferably sometime soon." He gave the teen a pointed look as he finally stood up, stretching as he turned towards the kitchen. "The other two should be back soon, so I'm going to get started on dinner. How do you feel about spagetti?"

----

Dick stared in horror at the mess that had been made in Alfred's kitchen. The man had gone out shopping randomly, stating that he had run out of some ingrediant or another that he needed for dinner that night. Barely thirty minutes later, and there were bowls and mixing utinsles littered over every surface. A pot bubbled threateningly on the stove, steam thick enough that Dick almost mistook it for smoke. And right in the middle of it all, sat Stephanie.

She barely looked up from where she was trying to cut a pineapple, the knife making a sawing motion as it stuttered through the fruit. "Steph?" He asked cautiously, making sure that he stayed firmly out of the kitchen. Alfred was not going to be pleased when he came back and saw this mess, and Dick did not want to be incriminated by setting a single toe into the disaster zone.

"Hey Dick!" She called out happily, not looking away from the mess she was making of the pineapple. "What's up? Did you need something?"

"Uhh, no. I'm alright. But what are you doing?" Wait... "Does Alfred know you're in here?" There was no way Alfred knew she was in here. Practically all of the family, barring Jason and Cass, were banned from the kitchen.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" She asked, expertly dodging the question.

'It looks like you're making a huge mess.' "Um, I have a good idea. But I might be wrong! So can you tell me what you're doing?" His smile was slightly strained as he tried not to grimace from the smell of burning sugar.

Steph turned around, letting out a startled noise as she moved to remove the bubbling pot from the stove. Turning off the eye, she set it aside on a pot holder, she grabbed a spoon and stirred vigurously before dumping half a cup of what Dick could only assume was milk into the pot. A horrible hissing noise arose, making the man take a step backwards. Steph completely ignored the terrible noise, using a fork this time to whisk the mixture.

Finally, she set the nightmare concoction aside and turned back to her butchered pineapple. "I told you, after I ruined your suit, that I would find a way to make it up to you!" She sent him a smile that in any other situation would be sweet, but now it only doubled the dread building in Dick's stomach.

"So you're trying to... cook for me?" It was hard to call whatever this was cooking, but he wasn't going to rain on the girl's parade. Alfred would probably chew her out once he gets back and sees what she's done to his domain.

"Would you call this cooking?" The qustion was mumbled, low enough that Dick barely heard it. Lifting her gaze to meet his, she smiled a bit wider as she spoke up. "I'm trying my hand at homeade candy! I tried to make you some homeade cereal, but..." Her gaze drifted over to a baking tray covered in black little balls that Dick now knew was supposed to be one of his favorite comfort foods. It was hard to keep the grimace off his face. "When that failed, I decided that caramel sounded like a great alternitive! But the recipe that Alfred had was a bit boring, so I thought, hey, doesn't fruit go good with caramel? I wanted to try apples, but Alfred said we were out. Then I saw the pineapple and thought, hey, that's kind of the same thing, right?"

Oh, she had to be doing this on purpose. Did he do something to set her off here recently? Siding with one of the others over her? A joke that irritated her? A villian that she had to take care of instead? No, nothing like that had happened. So what was it? What did Dick do to piss her off this badly? She didn't even look like she was mad, which was infinitly more terrifying than her being openly hostile.

"Riiight," Dick drawled out, taking a small step backwards as she brought the knife down with more force than necissary. "I'm just gonna... go look for one of my spare suits... they aren't where I left them last..." Slowly, he backed away from the doorway and down the hall, until he was out of sight of anyone that could be watching from the kitchen. Once he was sure that Steph wouldn't be able to see him, he turned and rushed back down the hall.

He had done something to invoke the scarrily petty side of his baby brother's ex, and if he wanted to survive the next few hours with all his hair and a settled stomach, then he needed to call in some backup. Normally, he would try and hide behind Damian, but with his littlest bat MIA, he had his second option avalible to him. "Duuuke! I need your help!"

---

(I know that there are probably spelling errors/grammer mistakes, but it's okay because I tried my best!)

For the amazing person who made this prompt, as well as the lovely people who have been following along!

@halfblackwolfdemon @manapeer @xxwintrynightzxx @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 @blu-lilac @academicpurposes @secretdestinywerewolf @passivedecept @naluforever3 @postit-nope @spiteismymiddlename @2t-productions @plague-daisy @feet-achy @bubblecookies16 @thesapphiredragon13 @justwannabecat @magicalcollecter @adeniumdream @amuseofminds @lupagrim @readerkayden @dr-syko-pharm-4 @ladythugs @angelheartgamer @markthespot68 @kyrianclawraith @michikoy-yuki @servasvictoria02 @your-emo-nightmare @vala-dreams @scarlett-green-rose @t1dwarrior-of-earth @charlie-the-frogie @akikoyuii @mysticalcomputerdetective @roseuniverse999 @im-totally-not-an-alien @thefearfullone @weird-droplet-309 @jaytriesstuff @raventao @jacquelynwinchester @dragongoblet @tlise21 @longlivethefallen @the-archer-goddess @temple-of-jalebi @adepresseddwightsblogofjunk @plainly-colorful @the-legalHe-shipper @49saltpeppershakers @igotafewbadideas @tumbling-darkling @sparklygardenbouquet @sarcastic-yami @blueneko9314 @starscreamlover @liedboutmurder @do3y @roze-realm @some-mildly-happy-human @yinari-uchiha @azuera @chaoticmistake @altairsarts @kawaiikenna @heartsong18 @thetoyboxs @tricksovertreats @mnemovoid @lim4b3ans @horribly-lost-and-gay @keimiwolf @dryeraseslime @joey394

#dc x dp #danny phantom x dc #batman x danny phantom #dead serious #danny phantom x batfam #danny phantom x damian wayne #love potion #miscommunication #long post #fic on ao3 #dcxdp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp fanfiction

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swifty-fox · 4 months ago

Note

[ needs ] sender asks receiver what they need

Would love something for Gale/John in Little Beasts—even a different prompt. Just something where they’re having to be emotionally vulnerable in some way.

John's leg jiggles rapidly, fingers tapping against the cheap plastic seat between his legs. The staccato beat is the loudest thing in the near-empty emergency room. It's only him and a harried looking young mother cradling her coughing child. She spares a glance at him, lips pursing unreadably and he offers her a faint smile that is not returned.

It's three A.M. and there's blood on his hands, under his fingernails. Coppery and sickening and mixed with the vomit on the knee of his jeans. He picks at it absently, too tired or perhaps too shell-shocked for disgust. Exhaustion sits heavy on his shoulders, and every glance from that woman has his skin crawling. It's irrational and unlikely but he imagines somehow she knows exactly why he's here, who he's brought and the six care rules he'd broken in the process of doing it.

No more late night wandering, if you can't sleep have a cup of goddamn tea Egan.

If tea doesn't help text Brady, yes even if Ev complains fucking text Brady

Don't text Curt

Don't let Curt text you

Don't go see Curt, no matter what he says or begs or promises, you can't save a man determined to drown

Stop trying to save the world.

Not the world, Johnny, just one man.

He stares so long and so hard in front of him the linoloum floor tiles begin warping and sliding against each other as if waves of the ocean. Florescent lights buzz above him, a mosquito whine in his ear and he tries not to picture Curts pale grey face, the way his teeth had unconsciously sunk into the meat of John's hand until it drew blood as he choked around his desperate begging fingers.

Don't be too far gone, please Cutty don't be too far gone.

Solid black shoes, shined to a modest polish step into John's field of view, a steaming cup of coffee pressed into his hands. (his bloody, bloody hands)

Father Cleven, who had been Gale to him now for longer than he hadn't been, folds himself gracefully into the chair beside him with his own cup of coffee. Takes a sip and hisses but doesn't complain beyond that.

"Drink, John," comes the pastor's quiet rumble.

He drinks. The coffee is made how he likes. Heavy on the creamer, light on the sugar but never wholly unsweetened.

"They said he's awake." Gale says, "But since I wasn't an emergency contact or family they couldn't tell me more."

John was Curt's emergency contact, or at least he used to be. He wasn't quite sure whether the man had kept him on the papers after not speaking for over two years.

He nods, takes another sip of his coffee and tastes none of it.

"John," Gale says and there's a slightly uncertain wobble to his voice. He's dressed in a white shirt and worn-soft jeans. Glasses sit low on the bridge of his nose and his hair was sticking up in odd places, flopping over his forehead and tangling around his ears like the ruffled feathers of a duck.

Hello?

Gale- fuck sorry I know it's late-

It's fine, John, are you alright?

Yes- no. Yes I'm alright but I need- fuck

Take a breath, what's going on

I need you to drive me somewhere. It's my friend, he's in trouble.

John sits his coffee on the floor and pushes his fingers into his browbone, exhaling slowly.

He's taken something.

A hand rubs along his back, an excusable away touch of a Paster comforting one of his flock only not twelve hours ago Gale had pressed John down into the mattress with that same hand on that same spot and made him muffle his cries into a pillow.

"What do you need John?"

He swallows. Swallows again. Swallows again and then gasps for a wet breath, tears clogging his nostrils and avoiding his dry eyes.

"Take me home," he pitches his voice lower, only for them, "take me home and let me hold you."

He feels Gale exhale just as shakily and braces himself for spitting bitter rejection.

"Okay."

#swiftywrites #little beasts #clegan #buck x bucky #curt biddick #somethin a lil more serious #and plot relevant #vomit mention #implied overdose

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captainsophiestark · 1 year ago

Text

The Curse of the Sun and the Moon

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Day 7 Prompt: "Do you recognize this?"

Summary: Klaus' SO is writing their doctoral dissertation on cross-culture myths. Much to their irritation, Klaus knows a thing or two about those.

Word Count: 1,877

Category: Humor, Fluff, maybe a tiny bit of angst?

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Love? Hello, can you hear me?"

Slowly, I turned my head away from the paper in front of me, still not taking my eyes off the drawings. A hand waved in front of my face too, but I ignored it.

"What do you want, Nik?" I muttered, only half paying attention to him.

"I want to know you haven't gone into a coma," he whined, flopping down into the chair next to me. I cracked the tiniest smile, but didn't let my train of thought wander from the work in front of me.

"I haven't gone into a coma," I repeated. I didn't say anything else after that and neither did Nik for a moment, until he sighed.

"You must understand why I'm concerned when you respond to my questions like you're in a trance."

I sighed, making a last note before finally looking up at Nik with a tired smile.

"I'm sorry, babe. I know I've been pretty wrapped up in all this lately, but I'm writing a doctoral dissertation in folklore and mythology. I've kinda got my hands full, and if I don't put in the hours to get this done right, it's all going to be for nothing."

Nik rolled his eyes dramatically before fixing me with a look.

"You know, if you just became a vampire with me, you wouldn't have to worry about things like school and work anymore."

I narrowed my eyes. "If I ever make the decision to become a vampire with you, all I'm going to do is go back to college for more degrees and studying. I love doing this, even if it makes me want to walk into the ocean sometimes. All eternity is going to do is enable me to throw any kind of practical job application for my studies out the window."

Nik sighed heavily, but he had a smile on his face all the same.

"I probably could've guessed that answer, couldn't I?"

"Probably."

We shared a smile, and then my attention drifted back to the paper in front of me. I stared at it for a few moments, still half-aware of Nik watching me fondly, when an idea struck like lightning.

"Wait, Nik... I just thought of something." I rushed to turn the paper around on my desk so it faced Nik instead of me. "Do you recognize this? I mean, you've been around for a thousand years. Chances are probably decent that you know something about this, right?"

Nik stared at the paper for a minute, then slowly looked up at me, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"What did you say you're doing your dissertation on again?"

"I'm focusing on myths that appear to transcend cultures throughout history. There's a couple examples of stories and legends that exist in basically the same form in cultures that had no contact. This one, usually referred to as something along the lines of 'the curse of and the sun and the moon', is the main one I've decided to focus on. So... any chance you can tell me anything about it?"

Nik's tiny smile turned into a full on grin, a twinkle in his eyes as he looked at me. My heart leapt.

"Oh my gosh, you totally know something! Tell me, I can't wait. I'm gonna have to find some sources other than you if I want to put it in my paper, but-"

"This is mine, love," he said. I stared at him, trying to process what his words meant, but I came up empty-handed.

"What do you mean? Is this copy of the myth yours?"

"In a way."

Nik looked back down at the illustration depicting the curse, this one of Aztec origin. It was my favorite of the versions I'd found, although the same curse had also appeared in Roman scrolls and a half-dozen other cultures from around the world. He ran his finger over the lines of the drawing fondly.

"I drew this."

My mouth dropped open, and I looked quickly between Nik, the drawing, and back again.

"What... what do you mean you drew this? This is an Aztec myth from the 13th century-" I stopped short as my mind finally caught up. "...which I guess you were alive for..."

Nik smiled and kicked back in his chair, ankles crossed and a proud expression on his face. I just stared at him in shock.

"There is no such thing as the Curse of the Sun and the Moon, love," he said. "The real thing is the Hybrid curse, placed on me. A long time ago, Elijah and I planted this myth in cultures all over the world to get every single werewolf and vampire in the world looking for the components I needed to break my own curse. And it worked."

Nik finished his explanation with a smirk, but I didn't react. I just kept staring at him, my brain going through the equivalent of a computer's blue screen of death. This could not be possible.

"Hold on a second," I said, holding up a hand to stop my own swirling thoughts before looking at Nik again. "Let me get this straight. You drew this ancient Aztec drawing I have on my desk right now?"

"Yes."

"And you created the Roman scrolls I found that kick-started this project?"

"I did."

"And you completely made up the myth of the Curse and the Sun of the Moon, then did the ancient equivalent of editing it into a bunch of wikipedia articles to make everyone believe it was real, all so other werewolves and vampires would do the work of finding things you needed for you?"

"That's right."

"So this curse, this myth that permeates a dozen different, separate cultures, the cornerstone of my dissertation... is just a lie you made up a long time ago, that nobody ever disproved because you're just so fucking old you could create mythology at the same time that these ancient cultures actually existed?"

"Exactly."

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly. Then, my eyes snapped open, and I snatched up a scroll from the top of my desk and hucked it at my boyfriend.

"Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME NIK?" I cried, shooting out of my seat. Nik looked a little shocked, partly because the scroll had hit him smack in the face and then partly because I never got this kind of mad at him. "You can't just fake historical documents to serve your own purposes!"

"Technically, I didn't fake any historical documents. I made them at the same time in history that they're supposed to be from."

"DOESN'T COUNT! My whole dissertation is about examining the phenomena of cultures that had no interactions somehow telling the same stories. There's all kind of examples of it, but this was going to be my ace in the hole, and now I can't use it!"

"Sure you can," Nik said, at last standing from the chair. He was smart enough not to walk towards me, but I hurled a pillow from my chair at him anyway.

"No, I can't! What am I gonna say? Oh, well you see, all these different cultures had the same mythology without talking to each other because my boyfriend is a motherfucker who lied through his teeth to manipulate people, and he's old enough that he completely got away with it!"

Nik shrugged. "Sounds good to me."

"ARGH! I can't believe you- Oh my God."

"What?"

"The stupid fucking vampire myth was going to be another example supporting my dissertation. But that's gone now too. 'Oh, why do all these cultures have the same mythology about a curse and blood-drinking creatures who stalk the night?' Well that's simple, professors! It's because my boyfriend, one of those blood-drinkers, just kept showing up to plant a bullshit story and got other myths written about him in the process!"

"I'm still not seeing the problem, love, that sounds like an excellent presentation."

"NIKLAUS MIKAELSON! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!"

I rushed to close the distance between us, smacking him in the chest and then continuing to whack him in the shoulders, arms, and chest again.

"You. Can't. Just. Make. Up. Mythology. That. Influences. History. Forever. For KICKS!" I shouted, punctuating each word with a hit. Nik just watched me, not moving even half an inch from the force of my shoves, watching me rage with a small smile on his face.

"I've never seen you like this before, love," he said, his voice silky and low. It only made me want to hit him more. "I quite like it."

"UGH!" I shouted, turning away from Nik all the same. I stared at the desk, my mind finally getting into the later stages of processing. I'd have to completely ditch all this work. "Nik, this is the worst thing you've ever done. And I've dated you long enough to know about the bad things you've done. Holy shit, I'm going to have to ditch so much of this work. I'm going to have to completely change my topic, all because you're fucking ancient and a good artist and a better liar."

After a second, I felt Nik's arms slowly, gently wrap around me from behind. He rested his chin on my shoulder, nuzzling into my hair. Part of me still wanted to hit him, but not enough of me to actually do it.

"I'm sorry, love," he said, voice low and sweet. "Tell me what I can do to make it better."

I huffed a sigh through my nose. "You can tell me where Elijah is. He's a part of this too, I need to kill him next."

Nik chuckled, pulling me tighter to him. I relaxed a little bit into him.

"How about we start with a movie marathon of your choice, all of your favorite junk food, and I dagger any of my siblings who try to disturb you while you're working next week?"

I paused, thinking, dragging out the moment with a little hum. Nik kissed my cheek, slowly moving further along and down towards my neck, and after another minute I sighed.

"Fine. I guess we can start with relaxation and peace. But I am not getting over this any time soon. And I'm still going to attack Elijah the next time I see him."

"It's a deal."

"Of all the things I thought might be a challenge about dating a vampire, I never could've predicted 'destroys my doctoral dissertation by secretly being the subject of my dissertation'."

Nik snorted a little laugh in my ear. "And I never would've thought this would be the closest we came to a deal-braker for you, what with all the murdering I've done."

"I might not be able to claim the high ground on that front much longer."

I twisted around to look pointedly at Nik, but he just smiled right back at me. Wisely, he used his vampire speed to whisk me out of the room before I could look at my ruined dissertation again. This situation was absolutely, completely ridiculous, and I knew I'd probably still be processing for the next few decades. But I loved Nik and the rest of these stupid, lying, ridiculous, ancient vampires, and I'd keep loving them no matter what. Even if I wanted to kill them, sometimes, too.

****************

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

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star2fishmeg · 1 year ago

Note

Do you take requests ? If yes, can i request smth Yuken x reader ? Just something to warm up my heart kckdkf thank you <33

ᴘᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴍ

Pairing: Odajima Yuken x afab!reader

Summary: y/n visits Housen with a compelling offer for her bf, Yuken, and to him, an open bedroom window is an invitation to accept that offer

Warnings: 18+ smut, ooc Yuken probs, Yuken’s glasses are prescription (personal hc), reader implied to be shorter, making out, cunnilingus, pet names (princess, doll, dollface, cumslut), reader is a cumslut, tit sucking and fucking, swearing, reading is on birth control, lemme know if I missed any!

Authors note: this is so self-indulgent fr bc I love Yuken sm. This is my first time writing Yuken so be nice pretty pls xx ignore the fact this has been in my inbox for over a year, I’m so sorry and thank you for the patience <3

Request: above!

She leant against the doorframe, watching Yuken and Monji spar like they did most days for some reason. These high school gangs rocked up to battle all rough and tough, but behind the scenes they were just a group of idiots with empty heads most the time. Upon noticing her figure, Yuken freed Monji, stood up and made his way over, lips tugged into a smirk with sweat glistening on his skin.

“If you wanted to wrestle naked,” she muttered, voice vibrating through his ears in a sweet but arousing sensation. Her finger poked the valley between his pecs, doe eyes boring up into his. His chest heaved, heart pounding from the exercise but also from the proximity of his body and hers. She gently trailed her fingertip down his abs with feathery touches, his skin feeling as if it were being lit like a fire, and hooked it in the waistband of his trousers, harshly tugging him closer into her, chests millimetres away. His eyes flicked from hers to her lips as they ghosted each other, he wasn’t sure if the heat in his cheeks was from the beguiling look in her eyes and the sultry tone of her voice or from his long-forgotten activity before she arrived, “You could’ve asked me first.” Y/n gave a teasing smile before letting his waistband go, spinning on her heal and walking back through the hallway, swaying her hips as she left.

Slamming the bedroom door shut, not intentionally but after a long day of school and the stuffy train from Housen, not a care could be given. Her parents weren’t home anyway, who would be bothered by the noise? Y/n threw her bag onto floor, at the bottom of her desk as usual, in its spot that had been given since elementary. It’s funny how you claim a spot as a kid and stick with it until adulthood, even now at eighteen, she still followed the same routine of dumping her bag, followed by flopping onto her sheets to be pleasantly engulfed by the cool temperature and then groan all the frustrations of the day out. Obviously then followed by the dose of social media, who doesn’t do that? And anyone who doesn’t do that after 6 hours of mind-numbing education is a liar. Usually.

A heavy exhale followed by sluggishly heaving herself from the bed, she drew the curtains and stripped down from the stiff fabrics of her uniform. How could anyone keep it on longer than they had to, too hot, too cold, it was never just right. She rummaged through her drawers for anything comfier, even if her underwear was unconventionally comfy at least a t-shirt would be safer.

“You shouldn’t leave your window open when you change, doll.” Y/n dropped her head, giggling at his voice, words spilling from his lips like honey, just as she liked it.

Making her way over slowly, she pulled the curtain aside ever so slightly to see Yuken grinning at her, leaning against the windowsill, standing comfortably on the utility room roof. Unlike before, his hair was kept loose with his sunglasses tucked between the top button of his shirt, lenses cracked. It was the perfect way to enter her bedroom window and sneak out, not that either of them was aware that y/n’s parents knew when Yuken was over; the change in bin placement gave it away. All he had to do was hope the back gate was unlocked, climb the bins, and hoist himself onto the overhang and bob’s-your-uncle, he could climb through, the roof was flat anyway.

“Why? So, pervs like you can’t watch me?” she grinned back, “How much did you see? Not that you can see much without those glasses.” She flicked the accessory around his neck in amusement.

Adjusting himself and stepping into the room, swinging one leg over at a time, he stood over her frame, tucking her hair behind her ears, “The moment the bottoms hit the floor and I got the perfect view of your cute arse.” His palms slid down the curve of her waist over her backside, sliding under the panties to cup the globes of flesh.

He closed in for a tender kiss to her lips. A saccharine kiss, slow and steady, smaller hands reaching to his face and settling on his nape, keeping him as if were to dissolve while his roamed her hips and waist. “Mm,” she moaned, pulling back for a breath, “My personal Peeping Tom. I don’t mind if it's you.” She dove back into his lips, faster and deeper, his tongue sliding over her bottom lip to greet hers in a dance of their own. Fingers slid to the collar of his blazer, gliding it off his shoulders and letting it drop to the floor before starting to remove the glasses and unbutton his shirt, pulling the buttons one by one with a lingering touch against his skin. Yuken pressed his forehead against her head, watching her toy with his shirt, his skin tingling and becoming impatient and fidgety. But he kept his breathing heavy, lips creeping into a smirk as she reached the final button, and her hands once again found comfort on his chest, tracing the outlines of his abs.

“Yanno, I actually came to take up that request,” he murmured, her eyes peering up at him with a devilish teasing. God, she looked good from above, his cock twitched just at the thought of cumming on her tits, “Wrestling with you sounds so much better. Want those legs wrapped around me so bad. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about it.” With his shirt falling to the floor with the blazer, she looped her fingers around his belt loops and shoved her pelvis against his, his warm palms grabbing the back of her neck with a dizzying desperation as teeth chattered in a sloppy kiss. Not that either of them cared though, when did kissing in a clean way matter when it came to lust?

Stumbling, the back of Yuken’s legs knocked against the bed, sending them tumbling into the sheets and tongues skating and sucking each other with saliva drooling from lips. He gripped her hips, pulling at panties and gliding his hands up the curve of her back and waist.

He pulled away, y/n panting and tucking strands of hair behind her ears, “How much time we got, dollface?” His voice low and vibrated through his chest. She brought her knees up to straddle his lap, palms roaming his naked torso as his eyes raked her figure, smirking as he visualised sliding his dick through her cleavage.

“Two hours.” She panted, chest rising and falling. She cocked a smirk at his wandering gaze, unhooking the clasp and throwing her bra somewhere across the room, “You have two hours.” And with that he flipped her over, letting his knees hit the carpet and placing her legs over his shoulder, nipping, and kissing her inner thighs as her face inflamed. Yuken slipped his fingers around the hem of her panties, sliding them down her legs and discarding them with the other garments. He took the opportunity to knead the flesh on her thighs, nose brushing against her clit as he kitten licked the arousal, y/n’s mouth dropping and let a whine slip past her lips at her pulsing cunt. She carded her nails through his hair, giving the roots a tug before his licks became relentless and languid, every contact of his muscle jolted her nerves.

He looked so pretty from her view, blond locks buried between her thighs, squeezing when he swirled and nipped her clit. “Fuck! More!”. The simple instructions had his palm pressed flat on her stomach, tongue lapping deeper into her folds and a finger entering and pumping with every moan that left her lips.

“Doin’ so well, Princess.” He mumbled against her clit. Y/n threw her head back into the sheets as he dove back in, thumb rubbing her nub and a second finger entering and thrusting. His tongue lapped again, devouring like a starved man, and humming as if he were pleased with his meal.

Guttural moans filled the room, his rhythmic curling and pumping of his fingers clouding her head with a burst of overwhelming pleasure knowing he was far from done. He pried her legs open more with his free hand, taking a short moment admire the melodies filling his ears, hot breath fanning over the vulnerable folds in which still had his digits abusing them.

Through the unintelligible noises, blank mind, and tight knot in her stomach devastatingly constricting, she managed to cry out, sweat beads glistening across her temples, “Let me cum, please!”

“Let me taste you, doll.” And with that being enough permission needed, her thighs locked around his head, Yuken’s hands securing them. His favourite place to suffocate, he got a pillow and a meal in one, how could he ever be so ungrateful when he had that in his fingertips. Unsure if she could hold out any longer, her back arched up and propped herself up on her elbows and jesus fucking christ did she regret that: watching his head bob with every long drag of his tongue just about withered her limbs back against the mattress as she released for him to slurp and devour every drop, pulling his fingers out and letting the cum paint her skin as he pulled her legs apart to clean the plate completely. Y/n’s body went limp, chest heaving and sweat dripping down her skin. With the clink of a belt buckle fumbling, she let out a weak giggle, slightly propping herself onto her elbows.

"God, you're so beautiful," the rest of his clothes pooling at his ankles and being kicked across the room. Y/n positioned herself against the pillows, Yuken straddling her waist, "Don't be shy now, I know you have a good pair of lungs in you." He smirked. Gently placing a palm on her jaw, and drew his face towards hers, noses ghosting,

“Yu’, don’t be too rough, there can’t be any marks.” He connected their lips again, groans and hums seeping from throats while tongues stirred a concoction of saliva and a different found source of edging pleasure every time his dick brushed against her slit. Yuken’s other hand groped her breast, rolling the pebbled nipple between his thumb and pointer finger while whines filled the void of the room. They pulled away for a breath, saliva still holding on by a string until he took her nipple into his mouth, his tongue giving it a swipe to have her grip his hair. Every swipe and nip were intentional, just to bring out her mewls that differed in pitch and length before moving to the other, just to suck and grope to send just as many pulses through her nerves. The way his throaty groans alone were enough to send her over the edge was something she only ever thought could happen in her class daydreams, but the more he toyed and kissed her chest, the more she felt herself become wet all over again. He released her tit with a breathy chuckle, giving the flesh a final peck before leaving a trail of butterfly kisses up the column of her neck to her temple.

With a long, warm kiss to her neck, Yuken lined himself up to be swallowed by her walls, y/n’s jaw dropping to release a sigh of relief, head sinking back into the pillows as he bottomed out. His fingers took home on her hips, almost leaving bruises with encouragement of how she squeezed his cock so blissfully.

“Yuken, please fuck me already!” She wrapped her arms around his neck while he began to roll his hips into her, legs locking around his hips. That gesture, locking around him had some sort of carnal affect that made his thoughts wild; she wanted him, just him to be that close in owning every inch of her pussy. He didn’t think he could become any harder than he initially was until he laid eyes upon her expression, how her head was thrown back and her mouth so lax that every moan and whine that that matched his thrusts was impossible to muffle, even with his tongue down her throat. The way her tits bounced as his pace quickened, he couldn’t feel an ounce of remorse when her nails tore into his back the way they were.

“Sh-shit-feels so good!” she hissed, smashing her lips to his into a sloppy but brief kiss, “Faster,” Yuken pulled one of her legs from his hip over his shoulder, hitting a new spot with a whole other ascending feeling that sent her to heaven and back, “Right there!”

Sitting back onto his knees, he watched her arms drop from his shoulders and grab the sheets, twisting them in various ways, his hands still gripping her hips ravenously as he watched himself slip from inside her before grinning and slamming his cock back into her cunt like his mind was in nothing but carnal heat. He kept pushing y/n’s leg towards her, knee mere inches away from her face and he kept his rhythm and threw his head back groaning at the slapping of his skin against hers. If anyone were to return home, if the bins hadn’t given it away, the song their bodies sang surely would’ve.

“Yuken!” She wailed, back arching off the bed, feeling his cock split her into two.

“That’s it doll, who’s fucking you?” Each penetrating sending her closer to heaven, words became incoherent and a struggle to get out as her body slacked. The pit in her stomach warmed again, knotting and painfully desperate for release.

“Let me cum, I..I’m gonna cum!” Yuken, who was a little further from release, just groaned,

“Cum on my cock, doll. Do it.” She mewled, her body shuddering with her orgasm and a multitude of feelings surging straight to her head. Her boyfriend’s pounding didn’t stop, his hips continued to snap into her pelvis, balls slapping as his eyes watched her cum lube up his cock.

“Yuken?” Y/n panted, eyes half-lidded and her hands pushing her pretty tits together, “Fuck my tits. I know you want to.”

“My favourite cumslut,” He chortled, pulling himself out of her seeping hole and slipping his cock between her tits, “That’s it, doin’ s’well.” His hands placed themselves over hers, his thrusting losing its rhythm and becoming vigorous as he finally felt himself close. His body elated, his week would be made complete just by seeing her painted by him and she’d thrive off it. He could sleep well knowing he’d be leaving his mark on his girl, his love.

“I’m close, baby.” He panted.

“Cum on me, claim me, please!” Y/n sighed, giving a tired smile. No more than a few ruts later, thick, white ropes spilled over her tits. Both their hands releasing her chest, letting Yuken’s dick paint her.

Almost rolling off her body, Yuken flopped next to her, pulling y/n into his sweaty chest, and placing a short peck to her head, “We should wrestle more.”

H&L harem (if you wanna be tagged/removed in future H&L content, just lemme know :D);

@straysugzhpe @airbendertendou @strxwberrychocolate @rouzuchan @yuken-gf @rinwhore @simpforchuchu @thatpoindexterpixy @rainisawriter

[Masterlist]

[Requests CLOSED]

#high&low #high&low x reader #high&low the worst #highandlow #high and low #high&low the worst x cross #odajima yuken #odajima yuken x reader #yuken odajima #yuken odajima x reader #high&low the worst x reader #high&low the worst x cross x reader

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blainesebastian · 1 year ago

Text

celebrating you

words: 1,654 ship: austin x female reader summary: @whoreforbrownies requested: fluffy reader celebrating austin's fragrance campaign. more details in posted q and a :) warnings: none notes: masterlist is here! tag list: @killerqueenfan, @austinbutlermischief, @stylespresleyhearted

You’ve always been someone who likes to celebrate—not just putting up Halloween or Christmas decoration months in advance or throwing surprise birthday parties, but by having this incredibly warm aura that makes sure to praise family, friends and your partner. Admittedly, that’s come with a few downfalls in the past—more often than not, you’re always looking after other people while no one looks after you. It’s not something done on purpose, you know that, yet you sometimes find yourself in this rut of being there for others that you forget to take care of yourself.

That changes with Austin.

He reminds you how good it feels to have someone take care of you, how it should be something necessary, a balance within your relationship. He celebrates you just as often as you celebrate him—there are moments that he’s completely taken you by surprise. Not because there’s some obligation of a holiday or a birthday, but because it’s a Thursday in the middle of the month and he wants to buy you flowers and your favorite latte.

So, in turn, it makes celebrating your boyfriend a lot more organic feeling. It’s not out of responsibility or requirement, but because both of you know the value of the other.

Lately there’s been so much to be excited about when it comes to Austin’s career—first Elvis and everything that it brought with it, Bikeriders wrapping up, Masters of the Air, and now a slightly different turn with this fragrance campaign. You couldn’t be happier for him, not only does it come with a photoshoot to highlight how beautiful Austin is, but an interview to also showcase that same beauty on the inside. It’s really what you love most about him, something that drew you in in the first place. Austin’s kind, thoughtful, considerate, and a hundred other things that make you feel warm from the inside out.

Pretty much why it’s a no-brainer to put together something special for him.

You decide one morning, right before Austin leaves for the day for a handful of different meetings, that you’re going to decorate the entire apartment. It’s gonna involve baking and dinner too but one step at a time. Your friend, Carly, comes over and helps, buying extra tape that she sets on the kitchen counter.

“All this for a fragrance campaign?” She asks, but she’s amused as her eyes rest on the multiple sets of streamers and balloons that still need to be put together and hung.

“Yes,” You grin excitedly, picking up a cup of coffee to take a sip. “It’s not just about the cologne, I’m just proud of him—it’s a new step in a different direction, you know?”

“I know,” Carly smirks, moving to grab the coffee pot to pour herself some more too, “You’re in love,” Her voice is warm and teasing, “I get it. I’d celebrate him too if he was my boyfriend.”

You smile, your stomach doing that flip-flopping thing that is often associated with Austin. You know exactly how lucky you are.

“So you’ll help me with streamers?” You smile prettily at her, purposely fluttering your eyelashes in a teasing plead.

“Yeah,” She laughs, tossing a package of tape at you. It lightly hits your chest and falls back onto the counter, “Wouldn’t want him to come home with you sprawled off a ladder. Not much to celebrate in the ER.”

You gather up all the supplies to take to the living room, “C’mon then, I don’t have a ton of time before he comes home.”

Regardless that it’s the morning and you do have until early nighttime, you want to make sure you give yourself enough hours to play with to bake red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese icing and chocolate chip cookies. Dinner will be simple enough—it’s the baking that needs timed dedication.

Standing on a small stool in your living room, you take the tape from Carly’s waiting fingers and reach up to put some of the streamers into place. You’re definitely not overdoing it, just enough to make the apartment look festive.

“So…just curious,” Carly starts and you get down off the stool and move it a bit to continue the streamer line…you already know that if she’s gonna start off a conversation like that, it’s going to be something. “If Austin asked you to marry him, would you?”

A laugh startles out of your chest because, “Carly, we’ve been dating for eight months.”

“So?” She crinkles her nose, handing you another piece of tape, “My aunt and uncle were together for six before he popped the question.”

The whole concept has your stomach erupting in butterflies. You’re not saying you haven’t thought about it, because how could you not? But still…feels like something that’s a long while away. You glance back down at your friend, trying to picture what it’d look like for Austin to come home and just—

“I’d say yes,” You reply, fixing another streamer. You can’t picture something different coming out of your mouth, but before Carly gets too wound up, “But we’re far from that being a thing.”

She grins anyways and you can’t help but smile, a fond eyeroll to follow as you set up streamer on the other side of the room so it matches. Then comes the balloons and the handmade sign that goes up a little crooked but…thought that counts, right?

“Do you think I overdid it?” You ask, looking around at the living room.

Carly shakes her head, “Nah, we went through one roll of tape…two rolls would have been overdoing it.” You smirk, bumping shoulders with her for a real answer, “No,” She replies again, “I think it’s just the right amount—he’s going to love it.”

That makes something warm and golden explode in your chest and…good, you really hope so. You thank her a few more times for coming over and promise to save her some cupcakes if there are any leftover, closing the front door after she’s left. You’re hoping it doesn’t take too long to finish things up for tonight.

Nothing is exactly going according to plan—and you already know it’s your fault because you’ve got this concept of what ‘perfect’ is supposed to look like tonight. You should really know this by now, it’s better to land on something ‘special’ rather than ‘perfect’. It’s fine—everything is going to work out, you’re determined. So what if the cheese you bought for the chicken parm has mold on it? You can just go with pasta instead. So what if your cupcake pan has mysteriously gone missing? You can make banana bread with chocolate chips in them (a personal favorite of Austin’s).

There’s no reason to freak out over this…your boyfriend is going to love whatever you’ve put together (it only took you three times to talk yourself down off that metaphorical ledge).

Luckily, nothing else throws you off balance. Though you do wish you’d been paying closer attention to Austin’s location because you hear the front door open as you’re taking the banana bread out of the oven. Quickly setting it down on a hot pad, you tug off your oven mitts, putting your arms up and out.

“Surprise!”

Austin’s eyes are bright with surprise, a soft laugh tumbling out of his mouth as he sees the put together dinner, the banana bread, the streamers and balloons just past the kitchen in the living room. He sets down a bouquet of flowers he’s picked up for you (just because).

“It’s uh, it’s not my birthday.” He says teasingly.

Rolling your eyes, you grin as you move to wrap your arms around his shoulders. Austin leans down to hug you back, squeezing, pressing his face into your hair to breathe you in,

“I know that,” You huff playfully, shaking your head, “Just wanted to do something nice for you.”

You pull back out of the hug a little bit, Austin’s arms still around your waist. He presses a kiss to your lips, your hand lingering on his cheek. Your stomach does that familiar fluttering that you’ve easily associated with being around him, running your thumb along his lower lip.

“For the fragrance campaign?” You offer, as if it’s obvious.

Then his face kinda does that handsome thing where he flushes, his cheeks kissing pink. Apparently it wasn’t so obvious and he’s genuinely surprised. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

You crinkle your nose, taking a look at the decorations, the dinner, the dessert—feels fairly apparent to you because what better way to celebrate him? This is actually pretty low caliber compared to what you could have done but…the key was really not to overdo it.

“Are you saying you don’t want the banana bread?” You ask, taking a playful step back from him, “Because I’ve been known to eat an entire loaf in bed before, so—”

You act like you’re about to reach for the pan but Austin doesn’t let you get very far, lifting you up and gracefully setting you down on the kitchen counter. A soft laugh leaves your lips, your arms resting on his shoulders as he takes a step forward and settles between your legs. One of your favorite positions with him because you’re nearly eye level now.

“I mean, there’s chocolate chips,” You grin, “I really don’t need to share any part of it with you—”

He cuts you off with a kiss, his hand moving to cup your cheek. You lean into it, can’t help it, would gladly fumble off the kitchen counter if it meant keeping your lips locked. Eventually though, oxygen wins out. He presses another kiss to the corner of your mouth, pulling back a little,

“Thank you,” He whispers.

You hum a soft reply, wrapping your fingers in his shirt and tugging him forward—definitely worth celebrating with another kiss.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler fic #austin butler x you #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things

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