#rogue also turned out way better than I thought

[8lyme]

Heat Rises

Logan Howlett x f!Reader

SUMMARY: The mansion is boiling hot

WARNINGS: excessive use of italicisation, borderline dirty thoughts, makeout scene bc that's the best i can do, maybe ooc bc I fear I imagine Logan a little funnier than he actually is.

a/n: the ac in my room broke and inspiration struck after I doomscrolled through wolverine edits on tiktok ... chat i love men

It was hot. Boiling. Stifling.

You woke up at 2 a.m. drenched in sweat, sucking in a deep breath of hot, stale air. Grogginess fading, you stumble from your bed while pulling of your shirt and pajama pants. You open the door to the bathroom and turn the cold water on in the sink.

The heat was dripping down your back despite your lack of clothing. Overheating and still half-asleep, you stuck your head into the stream of cold water, splashing over your neck and across your shoulders.

You straighten to tie your hair up before turning the water off and running your still cold hands down your arms. The patter of thudding sounded outside your door, and you move to dress in a thin tank top and shorts.

You let your eyes adjust to the light as you began walking down the hallway of the mansion. A few children slipped out of their rooms in similar sweaty conditions to follow you down the staircase and onto the main floor.

Gathered by the professor's office were Scott, Storm, and Jean. The stray young mutants who trailed you settling around them.

"Goodmorning," You call out the the group.

"Do you know who turned this place into a boiler?" Jean asks. You both swipe sweat off your foreheads in sync while you shrug, shaking your head.

"Jesus, my glasses are gonna slide off my face," Scott complains, knocking his head against the wall in exasperation. He was shirtless, (rightfully so) wearing what you guessed were swim trunks.

"Charles is working on it," Jean put a hand on his shoulder, then quickly removing it to wipe his sweat off her hand and down the wall.

You turn to Storm, who was pulling the fabric of her tank top to fan herself off.

"Do we know where Bobby is?" You ask in search of the Iceman. You turned to scan the room, addressing the three students who followed you.

"Pretty sure him and Rogue took off before lights out," a young girl from the floor calls out. Her mutation rubberized her molecules, and her legs were in misshapen puddles - akin to flat stanley - due to the heat.

"Christ, it's fuckin' hot in here," a familiar voice groans loudly from behind you. "Nice shorts." Logan said to you before reaching your side.

"Alright fashion police," you respond in mock annoyance, offering a small smile at him. "Didn't know you worked this late."

He shot you a wink before turning away. When you caught full sight of him, your face froze and (if possible) more sweat rolled down your spine.

It was sickening how attractive he managed to look in what felt like the inside of an air fryer. Having clearly just woken up, his hair was perfectly tousled into a messier version of his normal tufts. His hair hardly looked damp despite the oiled-up glow he had on his face ...

And torso.

Fuck he was shirtless.

Although you've known Logan for the better part of a year, you unfortunately failed to experience him half-dressed. You'd been in close proximity frequently - sparring and other various training taking a large percent of that. You were friendly with each other, his acknowledgement of you with a nod whenever you walked in a room affirming he didn't hate you. You normally ate breakfast together, often offering the other the last portion of cereal or setting aside an extra cup of coffee for whoever entered the kitchen second. Within the last few months, however, after a particularly unfortunate mission gone wrong in almost every way, your friendship became more affectionate in those 'off the clock' moments.

Quick but firm hugs, slinging his arm over your shoulders, nudging each other with elbows or hips at inside jokes. He'd also been placing a hand on your back or shoulder every time he was in proximity to do so when moving behind you; in the kitchen, during briefings, even while you were grading papers in the library. He would touch your shoulder to let you know he was moving past you or going to sit next to you.

All that is to say you were aware - in theory - he was well built. He was taller and broader than you, so you made an educated guess. Theory proven, but well beyond expectations.

A month ago, you and Scott had stopped at a Texas Roadhouse an hour outside of the city after having spent two weeks clearing out a mutant experimentation lab in eastern Quebec. The plump and shine of the appetizer rolls (that you and Scott had both equally asked for seconds of) had absolutely nothing on Logan.

He damn near glistened. The dim light of the mansion sconces bronzed his skin, cutting him into an even more defined picture for you to look at. His chest expanded with each breath, shoulders and pecs slightly flexing in response. His hands lazed on his hips, if even possible causing the room's shadows to shade in the dips of his biceps and forearms. The veins of his arms just barely covered by the moisture-slicked hair covering his skin. If you had a fork and knife, you would throw them behind you to happily eat a piece of him with your hands.

You had to force yourself to swallow to shock your brain into looking anywhere else. You made an 'eaugh' sound and swiped your hands across your face. You meant it defensively, but you really were dripping into your eyes.

"I feel like I'm being waterboarded," you say disgustedly while wiping your palms on the back of your shorts. Feeling a texture that wasn't fabric, you turned your head. Glancing down, you understood Logan's earlier comment.

These shorts must have been from your freshman year of high school that somehow never got tossed or donated. They were a pair of (very) short, low-cut and dull pink velour Juicy Couture shorts with the word 'Juicy' spelled out in rhinestones on the ass. You actually felt like hurling as your body got even hotter.

You slowly turned your face away from the glittery stones on your booty to unfortunately glance in Scott's direction. His hands covering his mouth to block how obviously he was holding in a laugh.

"Scott, don't even look at me right now," you groan in exasperation, crossing your arms over yourself in attempted modesty. Scott's eyes glitter, and you snap "Keep your mouth shut" at him to no avail.

"Do your shorts say Juicy on your ass?" He snickers. "In rhinestones?"

He's cracking up now with his hands in fists over his mouth. Jean bites a smile away and looks down, shaking to stifle a giggle. You look across the room to the kids who are choking down laughter themselves.

"Oh my fucking God-uh!" you again groan out, covering your eyes. "I really liked Jersey Shore when I was in High School, guys, leave me alone!"

Storm bursts into a laugh that inspires the others to join in. You're cracking up too, mortification disappearing. You glance at Logan through your fingers, who surprisingly seems to be choking back a laugh himself.

"Storm, can't you make it snow or something to-", Logan clears his throat. "Save her from embarrassment?"

"Not how it works," She says. "I can't pull cold air or moisture out of this heat to create any snow." She looks at you and winks. "Sorry J-Wow, the shorts are staying on."

Scott about keels over with a snort before Jean thwaps him in the shoulder.

"If we bring you enough bags of ice, could you use that to cool the building down then?" Jean asks.

"In theory," Storm says. "I can stay here with the students to wait for the professor if you all don't mind searching for some. I'll need to conserve energy if I have to create a blizzard out of thin air."

"Copy. Divide and conquer," you say glancing at Logan again. The four of you turn to wander the mansion, but you stop to turn back to Storm.

"Also," you call back to her. "I'm so obviously Snooki."

Scott barks a laugh from the other corridor as you trot after Logan. He turns to meet you with a confused look on his face.

"What the fuck is a Snooki?"

---

Logan daydreamed about upper-cutting Scott with his claws unsheathed. He fantasized about throwing him down the stairs and curb-stomping him after. He imagined speeding over him on his own motorcycle and drilling him into the asphalt.

Right now, as your face flushed with embarrassment over your bedazzled booty shorts, he wished he had enacted any of those in reality so he had never, ever, heard Scott say a word about your ass.

Logan was used to waking up in a sweat, heart racing as he yelled out in anger (or fear, he couldn't tell which) from the nightmare that slipped from him the longer his eyes were open.

This time, he awoke uncomfortably hot and sprawled out diagonally above his sheets. He pushed himself up onto his knees and rubbed his eyes. He took a beat to wake himself up and stared at the clock on his nightstand blinking at 2:00 am.

He found it impossibly hotter in the hallway, swiping his palms on his pants every few steps. He regretted not scouring his room for shorts or even a pair of briefs. He moved down the stairs and rounded, following the sound of conversation. He dragged his sweaty palms across his pants again, groaning out; "Christ, it's fuckin' hot in here".

And then he almost tripped over his own feet.

You stood facing away from him, hands clasped on top of your head, in the tiniest clothing humanly possible. You wore a thin, strappy little yellow tank top that ghosted just under your ribs. In the dimmed lighting, your skin glistened, droplets of sweat gliding down your neck, your spine - fucking hell, was your sweat turning him on? - down your lower back, and -

Logan just about stopped in his tracks.

Impossibly tiny pink shorts clung to your ass, riding low on your hips. In glittering rhinestone, the word Juicy was bedazzled over the fabric. He felt like a dumb moth to a flame, trying to look like he wasn't seconds away from using his hands for some workplace misconduct.

"Nice shorts," he managed, trying to shake his head clear.

"Alright fashion police," you smirked up at him. "Didn't know you worked this late."

He winked at you, turning away to avoid staring at the beads sliding down your collar bone. Trying even harder to not imagine where the droplets would travel next.

Too focused on thinking about anything else in the world other than you, he blinked back into reality after Scott's voice grated his ears.

"Do your shorts say Juicy on your ass? In rhinestones?"

Whatever you or anyone else responds with falls on his deaf ears. The only thing he can hear is the pounding of his heart and the rush of blood. His face tightened and he clenched his jaw.

He coughed to clear his head and interject into whatever conversation he's too furious to tune in to.

"Storm, can't you make it snow or something to-", Logan paused, coughing again to catch himself from saying anything related to freezing Scott solid so he can shatter him to pieces. He settled on "Save her from embarrassment?"

Once again, Logan half-listened and half-internally plotted extreme violence, perking back in at the sound of your voice. He turned to you as you catch up with him.

"What the fuck is a Snooki?"

---

You declined to continue to explain trash TV to Logan. You settled on "It's entertaining to watch people be out of touch with reality", to which he quipped back a "That's stupid", effectively shutting you up.

The both of you wandered to the kitchen, you fanning yourself as Logan tried not to burst a blood vessel while holding to his willpower to not watch you tilt your head back and exhale while uttering whines of complaint. He decided the amount that his was sweating coupled with the lack of sleep made him delusional. That's why his brain kept trailing back to the same thought: you.

You pulled open the bottom drawer of the fridge, exposing the freezer. The rush of cool air fanned at your skin, and you signed in relief.

"Logan," you call, eyes closed. You waved him over and he leaned next to you.

"Oh my god," he quietly uttered out, eyes closing in relief. "Oh my god, this is better than sex."

You snorted and slapped your hand to your mouth.

"Logan, shut the fuck up" you giggle. He snickers back with you, shoulders shaking.

"Aw man," you groan, staring into the freezer drawer. Inside, there was an empty popsicle box, an half-eaten pint of strawberry ice cream, and an unwrapped ice-cream sandwich with freezer burn. You and Logan met each other's eyes with matching disappointed expressions.

You shut the freezer drawer, straightening up.

"I think there's a freezer in the basement lab," Logan says, sweat instantly beginning to drip down his neck.

"Aw man," you respond, lifting your arms slightly as sweat slides down you as well.

"Come on, bub," He moves around behind you. You feel the familiar ghost of his fingers against your back, but you recoil away at the thought of more heat against your body.

Logan yanked his hand away like he had been burned, gaze raking from you to his hand. You keep walking, not realizing how far behind you he's trailing.

---

He tries to shake it off, he really does. He feels stupid for letting something so small seep into his head and twist his thoughts around.

It's just because it's hot, he thinks to himself. Rationally, yes, he knows that is the answer. And yet he stupidly can't help but overthink every interaction he's had with you.

He masks it with a stony expression. The walk to the elevator is sticky and humid. When you both step in, he strays as far away from you as he can.

You've felt the shift in energy from him. He's pressed against the curved wall, arms crossed over his chest. It's palpable, but you aren't the type to pry when Logan is brooding.

He slips out of the opening doors first, relinquishing in the slightly cooler air of the lab. You trail after.

The air is awkward now. You fumble in your brain for the right words to say to him. 'Are you okay?' doesn't seem to cut it.

You've come to understand Logan. He has a complicated relationship with feelings and is awful at communication. If you don't notice the energy shift and bring it up, it isn't getting spoken about.

You follow him to a white metal crate pressed near a cabinet of saline. It's clasped shut and luckily on wheels. The precipitation on the outside confirming this is what you were looking for.

You place your hands on the corners of the crate to slide it from the wall, but Logan damn near rips it out of your hands. He shoves it across the lab towards the elevator.

You stare at him in shock and confusion. Your thoughts whir as you replay every moment from the entire day, convinced that he's pissed at you. He seems pissed. He's acting pissed.

You reach the elevator just as the door slides open. You're trying to decide if you should say something. Trying to think of a way to approach this in a way that will actually get him to talk. The air in the elevator is thick, more so with his shift in attitude than with heat.

Logan is locking himself inside his head. He can’t organize his thoughts and all he feels is stupidity. He can't understand why he's over analyzing, much less what he's over analyzing.

He doesn't know it's basically radiating off of him. Unaware that you've been staring at him to try and decipher what's wrong.

You utter out "Are you okay?" just to cut through the thick silence (and hopefully the wall he's locked himself in). You're sure he hears you, but the sliding of the door gives him the perfect opportunity to continue to ignore you.

Again, you trail after him. The wheels scrape against the hardwood, a testament to how hard he is pressing into the metal.

You're confused, sweaty, and almost on the verge of nonconsensual tears when you reach Storm and the other kids. The girl from the floor has turned into mostly puddle. Everything besides the tip of her shoulders and up are deflated to the wood. The other kids have spread to the floor themselves.

Logan shoves the crate towards Storm.

"Alright," he says curtly, once again crossing his arms. "Cool this shit down."

You fiddle with your fingers as Storm unlatches the metal. Her eyes gloss over to a milky white while she lifts the lid. The temperature drops almost instantly, and you begin to shiver.

"Done," She says, blinking away the glaze. "Charles said that-"

"Great," Logan cuts her off with a slam of the metal lid. He slides it around before moving back towards the elevator. You glance back and forth between Storm and Logan for a second. When you meet her confused expression, she gestures back towards him.

Ignoring the comfort of your sheets and lack of emotional drainage, you jog after Logan.

---

He huffs at you when you reach his side.

"I can push a metal box by myself," he says dismissively.

"Okay," you say, just to get something in the air. "Am I not allowed to come with you?"

You regret even speaking anyways as he scoffs at you, kicking the crate into the opening of the sliding door. It hits the wall with a loud clang. You flinch, but you're more concerned about him to not slip into the door at the last second.

You hug yourself as you start to shiver. Logan rolls his eyes, crosses his arms, and turns away from you to lean against the wall. For the third time tonight.

You are racking your brain. Screaming at yourself to say something, literally any words at all. It feels like you've been panic-searching your thoughts for anything to say for a while.

"Are we not moving?" You ask. You wait for an answer before repeating, calling him by name and moving to stand in front of him.

He huffs before standing straight. After a beat, he says "We're not."

"Shit, how should we -" You start, but are cut of by the metallic unsheathing of Logan's Claws. In a blur he rears back and slices through the door, scraping three parallel lines across the metal.

"Jesus Christ, Logan!" You snap out at him. The glare he gives you while his claws sink into his skin makes you back up into the wall.

"What the hell is your problem?" you say evenly.

He scoffs at you, muttering out "Don't know what you're talking about."

"You just sliced the wall open," You point out, gesturing to said wall. "And you're acting like you're pissed at me"

"You're imagining things," he says back, resuming his position against the wall with his arms folded.

"Oh, that's bullshit. You're literally sulking in the corner and you want to tell me that isn't happening."

Logan stays silent. You almost expect him to turn into the wall so he can pretend to not see you.

"Logan," you say, trying to catch his eyes. "Why can't you be upfront with me? It's very easy to say 'Hey, you pissed me off because of this' or 'Oh, something sparked a bad memory' or, I don't know, 'I don't want to talk about it' "

"I don't want to talk about it," he responds. You smack the back of your head into the wall behind you in exasperation.

"Oh my god, obviously that was just an example. Please just tell me what's wrong."

Logan raises his eyes to meet yours for just a second. You catch his gaze, and you can tell that he wants to tell you. When you quietly say his name he looks away.

"Logan, you’re being mean." Your eyes flick over him, trying to catch any more indication that he'll open up. He stays stoick, stubborn piece of shit. You decide to wait just a moment longer before giving up. If he's going to be this adamant about whatever happened, you aren't about to keep fighting him on it.

"Okay, you’re pissing me off and I give up" You spit, sinking to the floor. You draw your legs up and fold into yourself, the chill of the room sinking into your skin.

It takes a long, awkward amount of time sitting in silence before you her Logan speak.

"You're cold," he states.

"No, I'm not," you say into your arms. Shivering.

"You look cold," he once again states plainly.

"I'm not, stop talking to me."

"I thought you wanted me to talk," Logan retorts at you. You look up at him over your arms, seeing a smug look on his face.

"Yeah, if the words you say are 'Hey, I'm sorry I'm being a dickhead and shoving stuff around and slicing into walls and ignoring you. I'm just thinking about X,Y and Z, which is making me feel X,Y and Z,' and then I would say 'Oh my gosh Logan, I had no idea! I'm so sorry, I wish you told me so I didn't make a big deal out of it because I thought you hated me!" You snap at him, mocking his voice for emphasis.

He blinks at you, and you move your head back into your arms.

"I don't hate you," he says quietly.

"You're acting like it."

"I don't."

The softness in his voice makes you sigh. You decide to take it easy on him, and ask him to come to you.

"What?" he asks, hesitation evident in his tone.

"Can you come sit next to me, please?" You ask softly.

"Why?" he asks, and you roll your eyes.

"Because I'm cold and you run much warmer than I do."

He moves and sinks down beside you, thankfully. You scooch closer until your arm is against his. The warmth of his body radiates against yours.

"Can you please talk to me?" you break the silence. The smallness in your voice chips away at his resolve, but his pride is still in the way. He's embarrassed enough about being upset in the first place, he can hardly stand (much less find the words) to say anything to you.

"Look, I'll literally cover my eyes so I'm not even looking at you," you offer, covering your eyes with your palms. "Please, just tell me."

"It's stupid," Logan says, pride dwindling down.

"I don't care, I promise. Please, Logan," You plead.

He sighs loudly, searching for the right words. He stutters out a few syllables before managing a sentence.

"In the kitchen earlier, you flinched away from me. I don't know. Didn't feel great."

Your hands dropped from your face. He was staring down at the floor. He looked embarrassed, maybe downright ashamed. You gently placed a hand on his arm.

"Logan, I'm sorry. It was just so hot and I felt all gross and sweaty. I didn't mean anything by it, I swear."

"Okay," he says, but his eyes never left the floor.

"And that's not stupid. I freak out over the tiniest things in the world."

"Yeah?" he huffs out a small laugh, finally turning to you.

"Yes, duh, I'm a girl. One time you didn't sit in the stool right next to me and I had to suck my tears back in and I thought about it for two days straight," you told him.

"Because I didn't sit next to you?" he teases, and you push off of his arm in mock annoyance.

"Yes, I'm not kidding. I remember once when you came back from a mission you ignored me when I said 'hi' to you on the stairs and locked yourself in your room for almost two days. I was genuinely convinced you wanted me dead and I couldn't function until you'd brought me toast because you thought I was sick."

"You weren't sick?" He raises an eyebrow at you.

"No! I thought you wanted me to jump into oncoming traffic!" You laugh at yourself, feeling ridiculous after replaying those few days back in your head.

"Okay, okay, I get what you mean. I don't want you dead, by the way. Never will." His face has relaxed and the tension in the air completely dissipated. You tilted to rest your head on his shoulder, relishing in his body heat and enjoying the comfortable silence.

"Seems like I get you pretty worked up, huh?" Logan smiles to himself, knowing he'll get a rise out of you.

"I'm not answering that," you snort, giving him a side eye.

"Are you kidding me?" He says in a deadpan.

"No! I'm not answering that," you sputter, forcing an even tone out of yourself. "Why'd you get so upset about me moving away from you?" You shoot back.

"I'm not answering that," he says, and you now shove him away jokingly.

"Oh, come on!"

You both start to giggle at each other, needing to look at anywhere except at the other. Weight has been lifted off both of your chests, being stuck in the elevator long forgotten.

"So," Logan speaks, letting the word hang in the air for a second. He wonders if the feelings he's completely sure are mutual should remain unspoken. "Are either of us gonna do anything about," he gestures to the both of you. "Or..."

"Oh man, I was wondering which one of us was going to take the bait first," you giggle out to mask the nervousness settling in your chest. "You almost had me, I never figured you'd say anything."

"Did I?" He asks. You turn to him and meet his gaze, smirking at him. You hum happily after a few seconds, turning away from him to lean on his arm once more.

"So," Logan says again, so you mock him and echo the word back.

"So," he tries again, obviously wanting a certain response from you. You bite, looking at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Oh my god, you can just kiss me. I'm cold, I'm not moving my arms," you say to him, earning a short laugh from him.

Logan moves and scoops you into him, sandwiching your arms between both your bodies. You slide one of your hands up him so that your fingertips reach his collarbone. His nose is just touching yours, and he tilts, barely touching your lips.

"So," he whispers against you. You snort and shove his face away with your free hand.

"Okay, nevermind! Get away from me!" You giggle, Logan following suit.

You feel Logan's hand move to the back of your neck, and you blink at him a few times with a small smile. Finally, he leans down to kiss you. You snake your free hand up to the side of his neck and grasp onto a few tufts of his soft hair. He leans into your touch slightly, so your curl your fingers in response.

One of his arms releases you to brace the floor for support, the other moving to hold you tighter. His fingers splayed across your shoulder blade as you slip your other arm out. You slide your hand up the side of his abdomen, almost moaning when the feeling of his back muscles reach your fingers.

You both pull away for a second to breathe before diving back into each other. Logan pulls you towards him, hand that was on the floor now sliding down your side to squeeze at the flesh of your hips.

He pulls back from you and presses and open mouthed kiss just under your ear. You crane your head back in response while feeling your way up the front of his body. Your fingers dip over the curves of his abs and over his chest, and then slide over his shoulder and down his arms. You think about the glisten of his body earlier in the night, the shadows of his muscular biceps and forearms.

"You and these damn shorts," he groans between the kisses he's now leaving on your collar. You let out a breathy laugh.

"I'll take them off later, they don't even fit," you say, pulling his face up so you can kiss him again.

"I hope you'll let me help," he says into your open mouth, causing you to squeeze your thighs together as you heat up.

The shrieking sound of metal against metal surrounds you both, and you shove Logan off you to scramble to your feet. He moves besides you, claws unsheathed on instinct.

The door of the elevator slowly slides open, coming to a halt while it's halfway open. Charles and Jean were waiting from the outside.

"There you both are," Jean huffs out. "You've been gone for about an hour."

"What time is it?" Logan asks, moving out into the mansion floor and sinking his claws back into his knuckles. You follow behind, the chill coming back to your skin.

"About 4:30 in the morning," Charles replies, gliding away from the opening of the metal door. "I suggest you all get some sleep while it's still early." He looks pointedly at you and Logan before rolling to face Jean.

"Agreed. Goodnight you two," Jean says, moving down the hallway to her room.

You and Logan make your way up the stairs, still buzzing. You stop at his door while he opens it. He turns to face you. Once again, you're back to staring at each other hoping you both can understand what the other is thinking.

"Well, good night Logan," You sigh. He cocks an eyebrow at you.

"You're not coming in?" He says while leaning against the door frame.

"Oh," you begin, a smile nervously making its way to your face. "Well ... I ..."

"I gotta help you with those shorts, remember?"

You can't help the soft laugh that leaves your mouth. You move towards him and step just into the doorway.

"I'll take all the help I can get," You say up at him. He takes the opportunity to wrap you in his arm and move you both through the door.

He turns you both, pressing your back against the wall next to the doorway, shutting the door as he molds his lips into yours. His hand slides under your flimsy yellow tank top as you hear the click of the door lock.

More than likely, neither of you were getting much sleep tonight.

[intoanotherworld23]

Minor Interruptions

Summary: Joel always tries to make time for his favorite girl, even if he is running his own mafia

Warnings: explicit content, mature themes, smut, unprotected sex, mafia Joel, dominant Joel, submissive reader, daddy kink, praise kink, mention of gun, mention of violence, dirty talk, mention of sex toy, implied masturbation

A/N: comments and reblogs are what help writers so please if you like it say something and reblog so others can enjoy! Also, my tag list is always open so please don’t hesitate to ask I would be more than happy to add more! Thanks! XOXO

Hall of Hunks

Tag list for Pedro Pascal: @pedrohoe04 @k-k0129 @livingdeadmaria @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @milly-louise @kittenlittle24 @trisaratops-mcgee @subconsciouscollapse @hooked-on-penapascal27 @red-red-rogue @fellinfromthetop @drewharrisonwriter @vickie5446 @millerfan @lover-of-books-and-tea @bbyanarchist

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989

Joel was an incredibly busy, and very important man in society. He always seemed to make time for you even when he was leading his own mafia. Most women would run for the hills when they found out, but not you. If anything it turned you on thinking about how power hungry this man could be. Knowing that his hands were lethal, but gentle with you.

“Is this all you wanted baby?” Joel’s breath hitting your face as he hovered over your sweaty body on top of the wooden desk. Legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded his cock cruelly into your tight hole. “You wanted daddy’s cock.”

“Yes yes yes.” Whimpering with each thrust as your nails scratched down his back his grunts echoing in your ear your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

Knowing full well that Joel had a busy schedule and couldn’t be disturbed or distracted, but you couldn’t help that you were so horny. Joel wasn’t any better than you either with all his absent minded touches and kisses. Igniting the flame that was already burning inside of you to the point you were pathetically begging for him.

“Such a desperate cunt always wanting my cock.” His crude language had the heat rising in your cheeks. Rough hands keeping a tight grip on your hips to keep a steady balance.

“Feels so good inside my tight little cunt, daddy.” Hearing such intoxicating words coming from such an innocent looking woman all he wanted to do was get drunk off of you. Talking in such a vulgar way was so strange at first, but Joel always praised you, and never made you feel ashamed.

“Love hearing that pretty little mouth talk dirty for me.” Leaning forward to kiss your puffy lips loving how soft they felt against his. “Daddy’s good girl.”

Joel now shamelessly bucking his hips against your pelvis so hard it was rocking the desk. Papers and pens scattering to the floor with the motions. Taking notice of how red and sweaty his face was, and you so badly wanted to lick all across his face. Pressing your lips together so tightly with how close you already were.

“Can feel you squeezin’ daddy’s cock.” Taunting you with a chuckle knowing that nickname always got your head spinning, and the heat in your cheeks rising.

“Joel please I’m right there.” Pressing his body even closer you could feel the absolute warmth of his skin. Even though you were completely exposed and vulnerable, Joel always made you feel safe and secure.

Hitting your sweet spot so perfectly that your whole body stiffened. Flexing his abdomen as he ruts into you all the way into your stomach rigid and hard. Feeling your stomach tighten as your orgasm was literally right there that you could taste it.

"Hey boss they're ready for you." His right hand man speaks as he opens the door, Joel not once breaking rhythm. Noticing he had his hand on the pistol on his waistband, and you knew exactly what was going to happen. The thought petrified you, but the thought of seeing Joel in such control had you clamping around Joel hard.

Joel had mentioned something about having a meeting with one of their known enemies, and usually it didn't end well for the person. Joel knew what time he was arriving, and that still didn't stop him from getting his hands all over you.

“I’ll be there in a minute.” Panting heavily as he kept his focus on your disheveled face as motivation to keep your body trembling.

“We gotta go now said he won’t wait another fucking minute otherwise shits going down.” Joel was usually a patient man but right now in this position he was starting to lose that patience.

"For fucks sake I'll be there." Grunting to his henchmen whose eyes looked to your sprawled body being fucked into oblivion on his desk. Admiring and amazed how well your body could take him, and the sweat on your skin glistening under the fluorescent lights. Trying his best not to stare too hard otherwise Joel would shoot him right between the eyes. “You can go now.”

"Yes boss." Bowing his head as he backed out of the office closing the door shut. Joel grabbing your ankles as he removed your legs around his waist, but his cock remained still inside of you. Watching as his chest would rise and fall trying to catch his breath.

“Do you really have to go?” Your arm going limp across your chest feeling disappointed that you were so close, and it was snatched from you when quicker.

“Yes doll face unfortunately I gotta go.” Joel pulling out of your sore cunt with a soft hiss watching his perfect butt as he walked over to the cabinet. Not paying attention to what he had even grabbed. “Use this until I get back.”

Placing the object between your legs leaning on your elbows to get a better look, taking notice that it was a vibrating dildo same size as him. Mouth parting slightly open at what he was asking you to do, and then looking up at the smirk on his face.

“Keep yourself nice and wet for daddy while I take care of business, but you’re not allowed to cum.” Giving your thigh a soft pat before he started to get himself situated and dressed. Then pointing to a camera that was in the corner of the room in warning. “Cause I’ll know if you did baby.”

[clarencethemouse]

Daydreams

requested from @hulkingharbor

note: I'm attaching this to the Bleeding Light lore because I love the character I made, and this scenario is eating me alive :))

this is a long one. Sorry not sorry

Summary: Kurt doubts his beauty and worth. Ready takes it upon themselves to prove how much he means to them. Angst and fluff (kinda spicy but also not). Gender-neutral reader.

The mansion roof was a lonely place, but good to relax one's mind. Good to let creativity flow without the judgment of coworkers and students. Good to drown out the never-ending plaguing thoughts with bird chirps and whistling wind.

But no better remedy to stress is a best friend.

You and Kurt stopped conversing on the roof a long time ago. All that was left was a stagnant, yet calm silence. You lay on the bare concrete, letting each spinal joint decompress and muscles settle. Kurt sat next to you, staring off into the horizon, which was turning into a marvelous spectacle of purples and oranges.

You turned on your side, facing him with your body and eyes. He didn't notice you, but this didn't phase you. All you needed was to see him.

"You're so beautiful."

The words barely escaped, the whisper sticking in your throat. Kurt's head whipped down to you. Those perfect golden eyes flashed with confusion. "Pardon?"

A soft smile graced your cheeks. Your eyes couldn't help but light. "I said you're beautiful."

Kurt's eyes fell from you. You watched his jaw clench and muscles agitate. Several moments passed before he spoke again, and the one-word response grated on your mind with his frustration.

"Why?"

"Why am I talking?" Your grin faltered.

"Why are you doing this?" His accent tainted his words thicker, his telltale sign of nerves. You pushed yourself up to level with his face. "Please stop lying."

"Love, I'm not lying-"

Kurt's nearest hand hit yours away as you tried to touch him. "I'm not in the mood. Stop."

"Kurt, I'm not lying!" You ducked around to peer under his insistently ducked head. "Why would I lie? Have I ever lied like that before?"

"Because... stop." He scooted away from your gaze. His tail flicked in agitation - he never used that with you. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

Your lips settled in a horrified frown. "Why do you think I'm lying? Please talk to me."

Kurt did not talk to you. He disappeared without another word in a cloud of purple and black smoke.

You threw your hands up, head whipping around the perimeter of the roof. "What the fuck?" You shouted to the sky. No response. No Kurt. You shuffled together your papers and pens, throwing everything into a haphazard pile in your arms before booking it down the stairs.

Nothing tugged at your heart more than to find Kurt immediately, but you couldn't function with your supplies so loose in your arms. Shouting for him all the way, you threw open your bedroom door and let the papers and pens fall to the floor just inside. Only mere feet back down the hall, Rogue chased you down.

"Y/N! Are ya okay?" Her powerful hands landed on your shoulder, concern painted across her lovely face.

"Have you seen Kurt? He just ran away from me after we had an argument. I'm worried for him."

"Oh, nah, I'm sorry, sugah. Do ya want me to find 'im for ya?"

You huffed a strong sigh from your mouth, propping your hands on your hips. A dull lump was forming deep in your throat. "No. This is my problem."

Your next stop was his bedroom. It had to be. His only other safe place was the roof, which he would never hide on if he thought you could still be there.

Your breath quickened with every nearing step to his door. With the number of times you'd made this walk in happiness, in giddy readiness for a late-night movie or jam session to grade papers, the growing pit of fear in your stomach should not be so frightening. Never before could you fathom dreading his bedroom.

Your knuckles made a quick rhythm against the door, calling his name one more time. You hated to risk invading his privacy, but you were desperate just to see him; a fulfilling conversation aside.

Slowly the door creaked open, revealing his empty bedroom. After a quick sweep of the visible areas, you backed away to retreat before a soft sniffle hit your ears. Barely, just beyond the edge of the couch, a dark spade lay pathetically on the wooden floor. As quietly as possible you closed the door, tip-toeing to the side of the couch. The side of Kurt's body revealed itself by the side coffee table.

"Please go away."

"Not until you talk to me, Love." You crept closer. The air between you fizzled. He was contemplating leaving again. Your body lurched to the floor, landing one hand on his bicep. "Please! Don't leave me!"

Kurt tossed your hand to the side. His curls hid most of his face, which you could sacrifice a finger to see fully. Anything to see him. You sighed, crossing your legs before him. "Why do you think I'm lying?" You prompted again, your voice softer with a newfound patience. "I'm here for you. What will it take for you to talk to me?"

A hand freed itself from the safety of his lap to wipe the running nose beneath the tear-soaked cheeks. "Ich weiß nicht was ich tun soll." His shoulders heaved.

"Babe, I still don't understand," you muttered pathetically.

Kurt's tongue swiped over his bottom lip. Your mind flashed to inappropriate places. "I am not beautiful," he stated, his flawless curls shaking with his head.

Okay. The nub of the problem.

This scenario had run through your head a hundred times before, all in different ways. Different places. You or him being the first to initiate. But no amount of practice in your imagination could prepare you for the looming threat of destroying the best relationship in your life.

Anything for a chance to cheer him up. To see his gorgeous smile, his perfect eyes light up for only a few more minutes.

"Okay. I'm going to tell you this once and you just... need to believe me," you swallowed the bile - the fear that everything could go wrong. That you had ruined everything so perfect about your relationship with three simple words in a moment of adoration. "I do love you. You are my best friend. I cherish our friendship so much-"

"Stop..." Kurt tossed his head back. Given the context, you despised the way his Adam's apple bobbed and the way you wanted to study its perfection under a microscope.

"Just- let me get through this all. I cherish our friendship so much. You understand me better than anyone. I feel the safest around you. And I love the endless nights bonding over the silly nerd shit on the balcony with endless ice cream." This was it. No going back now. "But the amount of times I've gone to bed at night daydreaming about something as simple as going on a date with you... I mean, a proper date. And I imagine so many kisses, so many other things that friends don't do. Sometimes, I even get so desperate that I go through scenarios from that day, but I imagine I'm treating you the way I truly want to."

You couldn't look at him anymore. If so, you may see him staring back at you with such horror and disgust, that you would never be able to look at yourself in the mirror again. "And I do this just in the hope that the daydream will turn into a real dream, and I can sleep through those lovely imaginings and wake up... and... yeah. That is that."

Nothing from him. No words, no shift in position. All you could offer now was the closing line you rehearsed in your mind a hundred times since opening his door.

"I do think you're beautiful. You're the most beautiful person in this entire damn mansion. I'm not daydreaming about anyone else."

When the suspense was ready to rip your heart open, you finally peeked. Kurt was staring. Not with disgust, but with wonder. Hope.

"How do you think these things?" was all he could muster out.

"Pardon?"

His six fingers fidgeted with themselves. You wanted nothing more than to reach out, take them, and kiss each of them until all doubts were ridden from his pretty little head.

"I don't understand. The last person I gave my heart to was disgusted. Horrified by me. I don't understand how you... don't."

Impossible. The thought of him with someone else, no matter how long before you, dried your mouth and made you want to hurl right there. But even more so, the thought of anyone convincing him such horrible narratives could be true... it made your blood boil. Your skin crawl. Nothing was comprehensible to you of how anyone could think of him in such a way. Not Kurt; not the handsome, skilled, kind, and brave man in front of you.

He was too kind for the world. No matter what became of him, how the world treated him, he never faced it with hate. Never pure, genuine hate for the world. Only for himself.

Slowly, knees cracking and heart aching, you reached for him as you willed yourself to stand. Kurt watched you silently beg him for a moment before accepting the offer. You led him to the edge of his bed and simply sat. Held his hands harder when he allowed himself to settle and relax.

Apprehensively, you sucked in a deep breath and steeled your eyes with his. "Please hear me, Love. You are not horrifying, Kurt. You're not disgusting. You are not. I love you, whether or not you choose to believe it, I love you. Both as a friend and as... anything else. However you'll take me."

Your hands snaked up to his neck, cupping the lean muscles beneath your palms. Warm, soft, and true. "It's okay if you don't reciprocate. I just need you to know that someone sees you as beautiful. I would never lie to you."

As if time stopped and you were left fighting through molasses space, your lips touched his cheek. Lower to his chin. Lower to his neck.

"I think your skin is so lovely. It's my second favorite color; second only to yellow."

His throat rumbled under your lips. A firework of giddiness exploded within your stomach.

While your lips traveled onto his collarbone with delicate kisses, daring to taste the rich blue skin only twice, your hands traveled with a mind of their own to play with his three-fingered hands.

"People have three fingers all the time. I see this as no issue." You brought one of his hands to your face, planting more kisses on his palm and down each individual finger.

"I quite like your ears," you confess, dragging one finger along the edge to mess with the pointy tip. "You know folks dig the elves from Lord of the Rings. So how could this be any different?" You smile.

For the first time since you dared call him what he was, Kurt smiled back. He grinned enough to flash the brilliantly pointed canines, which evoked vivid images you would dare never tell your mother.

You were about to start the journey down his chest, something you'd been all too excited to see for months, when the other hand laid a delicate grip to your chin. Masterfully, Kurt steered your face to his, and within milliseconds your daydreams came true.

His lips were still salty from the onslaught of tears, but nothing could have tasted sweeter. Together your lips worked as one, moving and sucking as though life itself lay beyond. Your back hit the mattress, hands scattering to touch every inch of his lean torso.

And then his shirt was off.

While you admired him, finally unburdened and accepting of your words, his mischievous tail snaked to your torso. Butterflies fluttered deep into your abdomen when the strong tail wrapped partially around your waist and lifted you closer to Kurt's body. He smirked down at you, amused by your desperate squirm.

"Is this what you dream of, schatz?"

A sly giggle escaped you as one finger ran down his back, so near to the spine to send gentle shivers through his entire nervous system. "You have fur," you smiled, tilting your head curiously.

"Ja?"

"It's cute." You pulled his face down to you again. You allowed this kiss to be slower. To taste him more. When Kurt pulled back with a wider smile than ever before, there was room in his eyes for nothing more than joy and relief.

"Ich liebe dich."

You ran your lovesick fingers through that beautiful head of hair. You knew what that phrase meant.

[alexsnerdycorner]

Touchy-Feely

Title: Touchy Feely

Word Count: 3011

Warning: Smut, Swearing, Unprotected sex, a bit of an age gap, talk of attempted incestuous rape (one sentence).  Bisexual Charles and logan. AFAB reader, dirty talk (so sorry for horrible it is), Oral sex, P in V sex, Anal (Male receiving), Praise kink, multiple female orgasms,

Fandom: X-Men movies / Marvel

Pairing: Charles Xavier X Fem!Reader X Logan

Rating: Mature

Summary: This is based on a request I got from my old fandom blog. I’ve rewritten it, added smut, and edited it. The reader (F) has the ability to make people aroused on contact (much like Alisha from Misfits) and to manipulate others emotions, memories, and more. This is post Days of Future Past, but Charles still has hair and ability to use his lower body because it made sense for the story.

A/N: I had a difficult time rewriting this as I had an ex named Chaz, which is short for Charles/Charlie and he graped me. I’ve always loved Charles Xavier and I’m trying not to let the grapist get to me, but sometimes I am unsuccessful. I hate myself for letting things go so far as to “allow” him to do this to me. But I kinda flinch every time I hear his name or variations of it. Also, this is my first time writing a threesome. Please don’t judge it that harshly.

You discovered your powers five years ago when you turned seventeen and went on a date to prom and your boyfriend’s best friend asked for a dance. This led to him trying to drag you to the bathroom to fuck you. That was when you found out that you could make anyone feel aroused just by touching them. Your boyfriend of the time broke up with you because there was no way he’d be seen dating a mutant freak. You knew for sure you were a mutant when your father tried to comfort you that night and wiped the tears from your eyes and tried to undress you. Luckily your mother was home to drag him off.

You were angry, and wished that he knew better. Better yet, you wished that he would try to burn his hand off. A moment later your father turned on the stove and stuck his hand over the burner, catching his hand on fire. That was when you found out you also had the ability to influence people’s actions and thoughts.

After that, your parents sent you away to Charles Xavier’s school for mutants, or, the nicer way to put it, gifted individuals. Charles took you in out of the goodness of his heart, as he would with any other mutant. You never told him of the embarrassing powers of eroticism, only of your ability to manipulate other’s emotions, actions, and memories. Your first week at his school after Bobby Drake pushed past you and accidentally touched your hand, you had to forcibly push him off you. He didn’t know any better so you altered his memory of the situation. But you were still so visibly upset that the professor, who was ten years older than you, tried to comfort you, you stumbled back to avoid his touch. But were unsuccessful, able to tell how aroused he was by the look in his eyes.

You then confided in him about your true powers and afterward made sure that the other students knew not to touch you, claiming you had a power similar to Rogue’s. Charles always took special interest in you and allowed you to stay at the mansion over the holidays and summers when all the other students went home. You grew to like and desire him, but were too scared to say anything because he was your mentor, but suspected he to had feelings for you. Eventually, you had graduated and became a full-fledged member of the X-Men.

While there, another man also took interest in you, Logan. He was a good-looking man with large muscles and claws made of adamantium. You could feel a lapse in his memories and tried to work with him to get them back. All attempts made were unsuccessful.

Today, you had pretty good control over your powers and it was a few days until your twenty-first birthday. Everyone was on vacation for the start of the holidays leaving you, Charles, and Logan alone in the mansion. You woke happy to get some peace and quiet for once instead of having to deal with students and teaching. You spent the whole day reading for your leisure in the library, but not long before dinner time, you went back to your room to change as Charles requested that you join him for dinner. You put on an alarmingly short dress for your taste that hugged all the right curves.

When you arrived in the dining room Charles sat at the table with your favorite meal in front of the two set seats. You wondered why logan wasn’t joining the two of you.

“Logan is out for the night,” Charles said, looking up through his scraggly brown hair. He paused a moment as you tried to hide a frown, “Good evening, Y/N”

“Hi, Charles,” you smiled at him and sat next to him. You made small talk as you ate dinner.

“Oh, Y/N, I have something for you on the kitchen counter. Would you be a doll and go get it.”

“Really?” your eyes glowed with excitement as you stood and walked to the kitchen. On the island counter sat a small cake iced with the words Happy Birthday Y/N and next to it was a small black velvet box with a white ribbon tied neatly around it. Below your breath, you gasped, “What?”

“Open it,” Charles whispered in your mind.

You smiled and shook your head, “Charles, get out of my head.”

You walked back out into the dining room with the box in your hand.

He had a big stupid grin on his face that you just wanted to kiss away, “Just open it.”

You carefully untied the bow and pulled the top back a bit roughly because the hinges on it stuck. You gasped when you saw what was on the inside of the box. With a huge smile, you took the small necklace into your fingers and examined it. It was in the shape of an infinity sign but with hearts on each end. Beautiful red crystals lined the pendant.

“Oh my god, Charles, it is so beautiful!” you looked up at him, “Thank you so much!” you walked over to him, “would you put it on me?”

He smiled, “of course.”

You handed him the necklace and pulled your hair out of the way. He put the necklace over your head and as he clasped it in the back, his fingers ran across the top of your back. He jerked his hands away and cleared his throat, “I’m so sorry, y/n”

You forgot how much you longed for human contact until now. You turned around and shaking your head, you looked him in the eye, “No, it...it felt good.” You could tell it felt good to him too, his face was beet red and he was taking deep breaths, trying to cover up how aroused he was from your powers. “I forgot how nice the human touch could be.”

You could see that he felt embarrassed for touching you, he had the same face as he did in his office that day he first touched you.

“You know, I am an adult. I’m not that young girl whose hand you touched in your office years ago. I’m different. I have more control.”

He smiled, “I know. You have, uh,” he cleared his throat, “definitely changed. In more ways than one.”

Your desire for him grew with every passing second. You could tell his was too.

“Do it again.”

“What?” Charles asked.

“Do it again. Touch me. I want you to touch me. It feels nice.”

“Y/N, I... I don’t want to take advantage of you like that...I-”

“Charles!” You interrupted. He stopped rambling and looked at you. “I like you a lot. I’m old enough to make my own choices. I know you like me too.”

“But, Y/N…”

“Charles, shut up,” you leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.

He put his hand on the back of your head and kissed you back harder. You straddled him in his chair.

Charles broke the kiss, “Logan’s going to be here any minute.”

“I don’t care,” you kissed him hungrily.

“He’s going to walk in on us,” Charles said between kisses.

“Good, let him. Maybe he’ll join us.”

Charles laughed into your lips and pulled your body closer to his, “God, you are so beautiful.”

“So are you,” you rubbed against him, humping his lap. He stood up, pushed his plate across the table, and set you on the dining room table and stood between your legs. You could feel him hard against you as he kissed you back harder, pushing his body against your own and let his hands wander.

“You have no clue how long I’ve waited for this. How much I’ve dreamed of this” Charles said as you trailed kisses down his neck. He let out a soft grunt.

“I do know. Who do you think put those dreams there to begin with” you slid his tweed jacket off him and tossed it onto the floor.

He let out a breathy laugh, “You sly little minx” and smiled into your kiss.

He traveled his hands up the skirt of your dress as you loosened his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt. You could feel the heat between you and Charles. His tongue danced with yours. His hand slid on the inside of your upper thigh. You let out a soft moan of ecstasy. He grabbed at the hem of your dress and slid it over your head and threw it behind him. In your bra and panties, you slid his shirt off his lean and slightly muscular body as he marveled at the sight of you.

Charles made out with you some more before you moved your hands from his chest to his belt. You fiddled with the belt blindly as you were too enthralled in Charles to look down. As he slid his hand over the small of you back to the hem of your panties, you slid the belt off him, tossed it aside, and went back to his zipper and button.

Charles’ hand was at the clasp of your bra when you heard a deep and growling throat being cleared from the doorway.

“Come on, we eat on that table!” you pulled away from Charles’ lips, a small trail of saliva still hooking your lips together, and leaned your head on his shoulder. You saw Logan leaning on the door frame, trying to overt his eyes. But you saw what was truly in his eyes. Lust.

Charles looked up and saw Logan as well. You felt his hands travel down to button his pants back up, but you stopped him with one hand and announced, “We will take it to the bedroom. Under one condition”

“What’s that?” Logan asked, mostly to humor you.

“Join us,” You hopped off the table and stood in front of him. His throat bobbed as he tried to show restraint. You reach out to touch him, forgetting about your powers for a moment but caught yourself before you make contact. You drop your hand, “Please”

“He wants to, I can hear his thoughts. He wants it bad. Nearly as bad as you want him.” Charles interrupted, trying to make you feel better about almost touching Logan without consent.

“Stay outta my head, Charles,” Logan did not break eye contact with you.

“Is it true?” You whisper.

Logan growled again, but this time it was a different type of growl. It was a growl filled with want and desire. He reached out his hand and grabbed yours, he took your open hand and placed it on his hardening bulge, “Princess, I’ve wanted you from the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

Your lustful smile grew and you kissed him with a hard, deep, passionate kiss, “Then join us in the bedroom”

He swept you off your feet and turned to Charles, “Comin’ handsome?”  

Charles’ eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. And he followed Logan who led them to Charles’ bedroom. Once the door was shut behind the three of you, Logan lightly tossed you onto the bed and gave you one last kiss before taking his shirt off his body in one swoop.

Logan turned to Charles, “What’re ya waiting for? An invitation? The lady wants us naked. I don’t need to be a mind reader to tell you that.”

Charles stood there for a second too long for Logan’s liking so he stalked over to a stammering Charles, kissed him, and started to undo his zipper to his pants. Logan pushed down Charles’ pants and Charles stepped out of them, leaving him in his underwear. Charles closed his eyes and kissed Logan back as Logan backed them both up to where you sat on Charles’ bed. They pulled apart and looked at you. Heat rushed to your face and to your core.

“See something you like?” Charles spoke up while maintaining eye contact with you.

“I see two things,” You sat up in the bed and drew the both of them close to you. First you kissed Charles, then you kissed Logan. Your hands moved down to Logan’s jeans and unbuttoned and unzipped them. Charles took his pants and yanked them down revealing a large growing bulge in Logan’s underwear.

“Charles, I think Logan sees something he likes as well.” You smirked up at the men.

“I see two things,” Logan said. And pulled you so you were sitting on the edge of the bed. He knelt down in front of you and hooked a finger around your panties. While maintaining eye contact with you, he said, “I can smell how wet you are,”

Charles leaned down to kiss you while Logan slid off your panties and tossed them aside. Logan removed your bra with one hand. You took Charles’ boxers and pulled them down and then took his cock into your hand. You started to jerk him off. With your other hand you reached down to Logan’s head which found its way between your legs. His hands were on your thighs and he began licking your clit in a circular motion.

“Oh fuck, Logan,” you swore, lowering your head to Charles’ cock. You took Carles into your mouth and ran your tongue over the head. This elicited a groan from Charles. You moaned against his cock in approval.

Logan continued to suck at your clit as Charles took one of his hands and placed it behind your head to stoke your hair. You saw Logan reach down, remove his boxers, and pump his cock twice before returning one hand to your thigh and the other to your slit. He slowly worked one finger into your dripping cunt. You mewled with Charles’ cock still in your mouth.  You pulled at Logan’s hair as he added another finger. You felt a building tightness in your core.

You took Charles out of your mouth and moaned for both men to hear, “I’m close. I’m so fucking close.”

“Come for him darling,” Charles moaned as you continued to stroke his cock, “Come for him like the good girl I know you are”

With that you let out a loud moan that reverberated throughout the room. Logan added one last finger to your pussy and you came undone, clenching his head between your thighs.

“Oh, fuck, Logan!” You shouted. Logan removed his head from your thighs and looked up at Charles.

“Come down here and taste her on my lips,” he commanded. Charles followed the orders given to him and pulled his cock from your hands to kneel next to Logan. He took Logan’s member into his hands and kissed him on the lips. Logan’s hand rested on your knee while the other held the back of Charles’ head. Still recovering from your first orgasm, you watched for a moment as Charles and Logan made out.

Charles pulled away from Logan and turned to you, “You want a taste?” he asked.

You slowly nodded your head and leaned forward to meet his lips. You tasted your sweet juices on his lips and groaned, “I need you inside me, now.”

Charles looked to Logan.

“Give the princess what she wants, bub.” Logan broke their connection and stood up. Charles followed suit and stared while Logan commanded you go on your knees.

“All yours, Charles,” Logan whispered, “Get on the bed.”

Charles followed the instructions and knelt on the bed behind you. He guided his cock into your still wet cunt and drove all the way into you, causing you gasp. Charles bent over and kissed your back.

Logan moved from his place in front of you to behind Charles, “God, you two are so beautiful.”

While Charles moved in an out of you at an agonizingly slow pace, Logan worked on getting Charles’ ass ready for him. Both men were well endowed and Logan especially had girth to his cock. When Logan’s first finger made its way into Charles’ ass, Charles jumped a bit, not expecting it. But gasped in pleasure when he added a second finger.

“Y/N, You’re so fucking good. You are taking me so well, love.” Charles whimpered.

You moaned as he nipped the back of your neck. He picked up the pace and began slamming into you all the way down to his balls.  You felt the bed sink down behind the two of you and logan was undoubtedly lining himself up at Charles’ entrance. When you didn’t think that Charles could go any deeper, you let out a ragged breath when Logan pushed into Charles which made Charles push further into you.

The three of you moved in unison. You could hear Logan and Charles moan and groan and kiss. You felt yourself approaching climax. The knot in your stomach grew and grew.

“Fuck, Charles, I’m gonna cum,” You sputtered.

“Come for us, princess” Logan ground out.

You felt your walls clenching onto Charles’ cock and you moaned out, “Oh fuck, you feel so good!”

With the next few thrusts into you, you felt the knot burst and you came undone. With a grunt, Charles’ thrusts were becoming erratic and uneven.

“I’m close,” he panted and was next to come. He stayed, pushing his cum further into your pussy and moaning with pleasure. The bed creaked with Logan’s thrusting.

“I’m almost there,” Logan cried out. And with a few more thrusts he came into Charles’ ass with a howl.

Logan pulled out of Charles who then pulled out of you. The two men then situated themselves on the bed so that you were between them. You could feel sleep calling your name.

***

You woke up in the morning lodged between a hairy Logan and a snoring Charles. Neither of your companions were wearing shirts while their lower half remained covered by the sheet. You were wearing nothing but the sheet. You dared not wake them, so you stayed put, staring up at the ceiling with the sun shining in on your face.  

[luvt0kki]

𝟎𝟎𝟏 | 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞

She don't give a fuck about nobody

And she got her whole crew poppin'

And she bend it over like she got no back bone

🎧 six feet under - the weekend

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ s.w.m masterlist ୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ taglist ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧

001 | next

pairings : ot8 x reader, (with a focus on Mingi and Wooyoung this chapter)

wc: 7.2k ( not fully proofread yet so sorry for any mistakes 🥺)

cw: mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, clubbing, alcohol, futuristic stuff that I had to google cause it’s been years since I watched Star Wars or scifi movies, nud1ty, hints of violence, hints of crime, slow burn, eventual smut, lots of teasing, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns and y/n, fembodied reader, mentions of segss work ( mostly just stripping), hints of violence

REMINDER : my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.

a/n: this is long I know 😭 but YES, look forward to part 2! Also I would really appreciate and enjoy like your thoughts in the replies or in my ask box hehe we can fangirl together for what’s to come

The former noble turned galactic nomad sighed as he stared out at the endless darkness littered with twinkling stars that maybe was a part of another system. It wasn’t that he found his life on the spaceship boring, in fact, he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

When his childhood best friend and also former crowned prince of their home planet, Jupiter, showed up after a year of escaping and denying the future laid out for him by the King, he had to know what he was up to. He had to talk to him and hear all about the life outside their planet and without the protection of their standing, the dangers, the perils, the thrill of the unknown and more.

Wooyoung then had not believed that his best friend, glowing with the freedom he had given himself, was right there in the bustling city’s downtown market. He had thought he had hallucinated and mistook the cloaked figure to be someone else but when his feet carried him to follow him, he was able to confirm that it was indeed his best friend.

Their reunion gave Wooyoung a chance at the same freedom Yeosang had sought after and a chance at meeting the band of brothers that he found that shared the same ideals. On his own volition without even consulting the Captain of the crew that Yeosang had become a part of, he decided that he was going with his best friend. Plus, what better way to create a reputation for himself as former noble turned space pirate? He liked how that sounded.

Which leads us now to the present…

Now he was part of one of the most revered and hunted group of pirates of the galaxy. Not what he had in mind really but he liked the life. The thrill, the danger and the excitement of it all. The not being told to act a certain way nor have his whole life planned to every second.

Was he buddy buddy with a bunch of rogue, violent and defiant pirates? Yup. He was one now too and the crew were like his brothers.

Sure he’s only known them for six months but there’s only so much you could do in a ship when you travel from one planet to the next, never ever really having a permanent dock. The ship was their home, his home…and the members of this crew were friends that he felt he was fated to meet.

But he hasn’t met one person of the crew…and he didn’t know that.

“Woo. Wake up. ” A firm hand shook him by the shoulder “We just docked at Xileon.” The calm and pleasing voice of their youngest slowly being heard in his ears as he gained consciousness.

“X-Xileon?” Wooyoung muttered, brows furrowing as his eyes blinked and squinted, adjusting to the soft light coming from his open door.

“Yeah, little fun rest stop. Well fun for me,” Jongho chuckled, excited to see all the cool technology and city life Xileon offered. He’s only ever been once when he had been an apprentice. Xileon was every science, engineering and tech geeks favorite planet, other than that the bustling fun night life it offered attracted all kinds of travelers across the galaxy. “C’mon, Captain says we’re free to do what we want while he contacts one of his informants.”

“What if I want to sleep, Jongho?” Wooyoung whined, sitting up despite his words.

“I know you’re always up for a party.”

“Now where did you hear that from?”

“Yeosang.” He shrugged, getting up from the edge of Wooyoung’s bed. “Come on, everyone’s going .” He clapped the raven haired man on the back, the impact making a little ‘oof’ escape Wooyoung.

“Yeah…yeah,” Wooyoung made a face, rubbing the back of his neck as he woke up. “I’ll be there…just wait a bit. Let me freshen up.”

“Don’t make us wait too long,” Jongho’s lips pursed in a childlike way, making Wooyoung chuckle a bit. As strong and intimidating as Jongho was, he was still their youngest and had an inner child that came out now and then.

“I won’t…I don’t want an earful from you anyways,” he snickered, playfully jabbing at him.

Jongho glared at him before leaving.

Xileon was a colorful fluorescent modern, futuristic jungle of a planet. The most high tech flying vehicles and motorcycle cruisers sped by the roads and streets, the avant-garde and neo-futuristic skyscrapers and buildings glimmered during the lively evenings of *Night City*. Clubs and the grandest of parties happened every night. The pounding music, the flashing lights and glittering champagne, and the vast choices of alcoholic concoctions called many for a good time but underneath all of that, it provided many individuals a guise to have dealings of a far more less than lawful nature.

If you’re lucky, Night City’s police would turn a blind eye. Just make sure you don’t get caught or were one of the most hunted wanted individuals of the galaxy.

Luckily for ATEEZ, they were never really caught…except for that one really disappointing and poor depiction of Mingi’s profile that was being plastered in every back alley or lamp post. It was a good thing it looked nothing like him and that that day, Mingi had been wearing an oversized leather cowboy hat that casted a shadow over his eyes so the wanted poster was practically useless. All Mingi had to do was not wear that hat ever again…he grumbled about it for a bit but he had let it go eventually.

The eight men stood in line for one of the top venues to experience the night life the city offered.

While their Captain and First Mate were here to do conduct business, the rest decided to enjoy the establishment as well as make sure they were there should anything go south. But as they entered, guided by a bouncer with a metallic high tech prosthetic arm, Hongjoong dressed in an exquisite Aegean velvet suit tailored to his frame like a glove, turned to them once more to remind them that this whole affair was likely not to be any trouble.

“Don’t worry too much and try to enjoy yourselves,” he ran his fingers through his dyed azure hair before adjusting the lapels of his blazer, some tipsy club goers passing by to leave eyed their captain’s slightly exposed skin. The rest of them garnered looks as well the more they walked into the place, the music pounding and colored lights flashing. “If anything,” he tapped by his ear, earrings glimmering as they’re caught in the lights, the little communication device Jongho fashioned for them hidden behind his and their earlobes. “I’ll call you.”

“But, really, please do enjoy yourselves.” Seonghwa smiled, raven dark hair sweeping perfectly to frame his handsome face. “We rarely get days like these. Have fun.”

The newest addition to their crew grinned like a cat who got the cream, eyes looking over the dance floor with a glint of mischief and the full intent to indulge himself in pleasures he was used to having. “Don’t worry, Seonghwa. I plan to do just that.” He winked at the women who looked his way.

“Oh, he’s in his element.” Yeosang chuckled, throwing an arm over his best friend. “Don’t get into that kind of trouble, Woo.”

“It’s trouble they want anyways.”

“Were you always this cocky?” Mingi’s nose scrunched up at his friend’s obnoxiously flirty behavior.

“Don’t act like you’re not a flirt when you want to be.” Yunho teased the crew’s gunner, poking his side.

“I know I said to have fun,” Hongjoong spoke as they made their way through the spread wide and lively establishment, passing several tables, booths and private rooms. “But do behave.”

That was their last exchange with the group before Seonghwa and him continued down towards the part of the club with another set of bouncers that led to the private and premium rooms. Straight to business while the rest stood by the railings that overlooked the dance floor and bar below, eyeing what entertainment tonight had to offer each of them.

“You’re awfully quiet.” Jongho turned to San, their agent, who stayed close to them, rather protectively, almost like a bodyguard. His posture was straight yet elegant with an air of quiet and unquestionable confidence, almost making one think that he may have come from royalty.

“Places like these…” San’s cat like eyes scanned the room, processing possible exits and blind spots. “Can’t be too careful.”

“Maybe some alcohol in your system will help loosen you up.” Wooyoung came to his side, eyes on the dance floor eying for a partner for one night, the ocean of people reminding him of the days he’d sneak out his father’s manor to party with the other elites.

“He doesn’t hold his liquor well,” Jongho stated, crossing his arms over his chest, a group of what seemed to be innovators, inventors and scientists out to have a good time catching his eye as one of them boasted their interactive hologram that displayed a model of an advanced hover cycle. “I’ll be doing some mingling.” He clapped Yeosang on his back as he made his way to the group cooly while simultaneously getting a shot from a hostess passing by.

“Seems like he’s done this before. Not so baby as I thought he was,” Wooyoung hummed with narrow eyes, watching Jongho easily join the groups conversation and a random woman sizing him up flirtatiously.

“We should get a table,” Yeosang suggested.

“A booth.” San inputted. “Specifically in that corner.” He gestured with a tilt of his head to the far right corner of the dance floor below. “I can keep an eye on things there better.”

“To give Sannie some peace of mind, we should follow his request.” Yunho placed his hands on their agents broad and stiff shoulders.

“I’ll get us drinks.” Mingi decided, heading down the aesthetically pleasing steps to the bar. His tall, muscular figure was clad in a fitting white shirt with sleeves rolled to his elbows topped with a vest that cinched at his waist, boasting his defined v-tapered back. Little did the people who gave him double takes knew, beneath the leg of his trousers, strapped to his ankle was a knife and at the back of the waistband was a gun.

With Yeosang’s charm, the boys were able to secure the corner table booth that was a bit further away from the dance floor, it was private and one that definitely were for VIPs. What they liked was that it was close enough to where the party was but far enough that they can speak to one another while the music drummed at a less overwhelming volume. San sat took his spot on the dark violet cushioned seat that gave him a view of all the exits and entrances and for now, since it was just the start of a long fun night, they decided to have a couple of drinks and some food while enjoying each others company and the music.

“You need to relax,” Wooyoung tutted at San, unbuttoning another button of his shirt to expose more of his honey skinned chest. “When was the last time you fucked, huh?” He asked the former assassin.

“W-what?” San stuttered, eyes growing wide and ears tinting pink at the sudden question. For such an intimidatingly handsome man, he sure flustered easily.

Yunho looked over at San with concern, the last time San had been with anyone…was before Wooyoung had joined the crew…before—

“You never really told me your type?” Wooyoung wiggled his groomed brows, relaxing in his seat as he watched people dance, bodies pressing against one another, some fitting perfectly and rolling in tandem with whomever they danced with.

Yeosang quietly observed his friends, savoring each sip of his drink and mindful of their interactions.

“I-I don’t have a type.” San murmured, reaching for a glass from the tray Mingi returned with, who settled next Yunho on the other end of the couch.

“San’s not really the sleeping around kind of person,” Mingi’s deep voice almost melded with the low hum of the bass music.

“And you are?” Wooyoung scoffed at their gunner, his newly dyed pink hair catching the eyes of those that passed by them.

“Pleasure is pleasure,” Mingi shrugged his broad shoulders, ringed fingers cradling his whiskey sour. “But,” he reached for one of the thinner silver chains around his neck. He pulled out a specific one with a pendant. “I’m a loyal man.”

San stared at the pendant, a wave of melancholy washing over him as he recalled memories of who that butterfly pendant belonged to and who it signified.

“You’ve got someone?” Wooyoung’s interest was piqued immediately, forgetting the women he had been eying across the dance floor and now staring at the pendant that Mingi displayed proudly and pressed to his lips.

His smirk was answer enough for Wooyoung.

“It must be hard for them.”

Yeosang tilted his head. “Why’d you think that?”

“Because we’re rebels, bandits/pirates? Shall I go on and list the colorful achievements of our crew? Plus,” he turned his gaze to the dance floor, locking with a pair of eyes so magnetic that even behind the intricate lace masque she wore, just a small moment had him looking for them when he lost it. “Isn’t it cruel to make her wait?”

Mingi’s reaction caught Wooyoung off guard. He scoffed with a slight amused smirk on his face, as if what Wooyoung had said was funny.

“She’s not doing all the waiting.” San spoke without thinking before Mingi could reply, his eyes transfixed on the pendant until it disappeared back beneath Mingi’s shirt. His eyes returned to observe the happenings around him.

Wooyoung wondered what San meant but he didn’t have enough time to think much of it when another round of drinks arrived.

As the night progressed, the drinks emptied were quickly refilled and Wooyoung danced, mingled and flirted like he did back in his old life. Seonghwa and Hongjoong after having met with their informants had joined them at their table, while Wooyoung and even Yeosang danced, the rest deciding to play a game of pool.

Wooyoung was not blind to the wandering eyes that were on him and his very attractive crew members. Many flirted with them but it was never more than that. His friends entertained their advances but were quick to turn them down when they asked or suggested for more.

But he didn’t worry much about it, not when he was searching for that pair of eyes he locked with earlier. Where was she? He would catch glimpses of her now and again but she was always a distance away from him, and every time he tried to head to her direction and he lost her in his peripheral, she was gone.

Was he hallucinating ? He wasn’t even that drunk.

Soft fingers brushed the nape of neck, nails scraping delightfully on his skin. He knew what that meant. Grinning and letting himself go, he turned to entertain another flirty party goer, only to meet the masked beauty he was searching for all night.

Sporting what clearly was a shoulder length pink bob wig with bangs, her eyes were hidden behind a white lace masque and she wore the most alluring Mona Lisa smile that haunted his mind since he had seen her.

Wooyoung with his experiences back in his and Yeosang’s home planet, girls like her, like you, who came to happenings like this dressed almost incognito, meant that you were here for a very good time that not even your identity can be disclosed.

He smirked and placed his hands on your waist, pleasantly surprised to feel warm skin against his palms. With how packed the dance floor was, he couldn’t really get a good look of your outfit but from what he could see, you wore a bejeweled bralette with straps that were lined with tiny crystals and brushing over his knuckles as you both swayed were long beaded shimmering strings hanging by the band.

So who were you? Some elite socialite whose reputation was too good to ruin in a scene like this? A noble like he was looking for a good time? A princess of some other planet?

“Hey,” your sultry voice, like honey to his ears. “My eyes are up here.”

Your arms hung over his shoulders, giving the handsome stranger a quick look down as if you hadn’t been observing him all night.

The buttons of his black silk dress shirt revealed his toned chest, honey skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat beneath the party lights and his pretty neck was wrapped in a matching silk black choker with the extra fabric dangling in a classy fashion.

“And mine are up here too,” he teased back and pulled you against him. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Oh?” Glossy pink lips stretched into a smirk and shimmering eyes locked with his. “And why would you be doing that?”

“Because I’ve decided,” he turned you around, his hands on your hips keeping you in place against his own as the two of you danced to the music. His lips were hot against your ear while your hand rested on the back of his neck, rolling your hips sensually. Wooyoung smirked against your ear.

You wanted him just as much as he did.

“That you’re mine for the evening.”

“Yeah?” You tilted your head slightly to give him access to your neck, your eyes falling to his group of friends by the pool table.

“Not everyone gets that privilege, baby.” He husked, brushing his soft and hot lips along the column of your neck, breathing in your addicting scent.

Wooyoung wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol and the heat of the dancing crowd that was getting him so easily riled up but something about your aura was so magnetic and intoxicating. Was it because he hasn’t slept with anyone since he left Jupiter?

“Well aren’t you arrogant.” You raked your nails through his hair, shivers going down his spine and sending pulsing heat to his crotch. “Was that supposed to flatter me?”

His eyes shut at the delicious sensation of your touch. He wanted to get you alone, heck, he would have you on the dance floor if he could. He almost forgot how good it was to fuck after months of traveling the galaxy. He wanted to fuck. He wanted you.

“Don’t lie to yourself and say you’re not.” He brushed his lips on your earlobe, his hot breath against your ear and the way his hands roamed your body felt good.

God, how did his friends put up with his cocky flirty attitude?

“Is that what you want me to do?” You rolled your hips against his, completely aware of the growing hardness pressed against your ass as he ground his hips to the music. “Lie?”

“Trust me sweetheart, there’s many things I want you to do.”

“And what are those things?” You purred whilst tugging at his hair, your voice and your gesture spurring his desire further.

He gripped your hips tighter and lowered his lips to your neck, to the spot just below your ear. He pulled you closer to his body to feel the heat of your form on his own before letting his hands roam freely again, feeling the exposed skin beneath the beaded strings that teased every spectators eyes.

“I want you,” he growled against your skin, pressing his lips just a little bit. “Legs spread apart with my head between your thighs.”

The warmth of his hot lips and the lust in his words undeniably sent heat to your core, and the image he painted with his words was so tempting. Plus, the fact that that was his response set him apart from other men. Usually the response you’d get were more about their pleasure never yours.

You hummed at the thought before turning around to face him and meet his eyes. He wore that flirtatious grin and his eyes were blown with lust. They had a look in them that you found so sexy, you couldn’t help but play a little.

“You’re very bold.”

“I’m honest.”

“And what’s an honest man such as yourself doing here?” You caressed his cheekbone with a gentleness that made Wooyoung’s heart skip a beat.

“What do you know about honest men?”

“Well for one, they don’t spend their time in a place like this.” You swayed to the beat closer to him. “Secondly, an honest man always ends up with an honest woman. I’m far from honest.”

“Then maybe we’re just two dishonest people.”

He watched your pretty lips stretch into an endearing grin, their glossiness and plumpness pulling him closer to you.

“Maybe we are.” Your sweet breath fanned over his lips, your foreheads touching, so dangerously close.

“I wonder what you taste like.” His thumbs caressed the skin of your waist.

You grazed your lips over his just a little and Wooyoung could get a little taste of cherry from the gloss you wore while you slid a hand between the two of you. Your fingertip brushed along the exposed skin of his chest then the silk of his button up shirt before they lingered at the waistband of his trousers. Before he could even think about pressing his lips on yours, you turned your cheek and leaned in his ear. Your right hand skimmed over the hardness of his crotch, making a cute little gasp escape the strikingly handsome man.

His cock twitched beneath your teasing touch.

“Like heaven,” you purred.

His forehead fell on your shoulder as he bit his lip, holding back a moan as you palmed him through his pants.

“But…” your touch left his hardened member, the loss of friction making him groan. “Not everyone gets that privilege.” You echoed his words back to him.

Before he could react, his head dizzy and spinning from both the alcohol and your hot touch, you slithered your way through the crowd.

His eyes watched the pink of your hair amongst the dancing and close proximity of people. You headed to the back, to the dark red velvet decorated motif which was below the second floor where the premium private rooms were. You nodded at the two bouncers who guarded the velvet draped entrance, who smiled back at you.

Did you work here?

Before you disappeared behind the curtains to what he assumed was the private entertainment rooms, you casted him one last glance. It was like you were telling him to follow.

Wooyoung wasn’t the type to be whipped by just anyone. He knew what was worth his time or not but with you, he wasn’t even thinking. His feet moved on their own to follow you like he was under some spell.

“Hey, I found you.”

Jongho entered his peripheral.

“Huh?”

“Captain said his informant got us a private room as a treat.” Jongho’s hand on his shoulder started to guide him through the crowd, towards the dark glowing red area.

“For what?”

“For taking care of the man who was his competition. Even though that wasn’t our intention.”

Wooyoung frowned, adjusting his pants to hide his erection. Not really how he wanted to spend the rest of his night but if Captain calls, you do not make him call twice.

“Ugh,” he ran his hands through his hair, missing and imagining your touch. “Fine.”

If he was lucky, he was going to find you…

“This is…odd.” San spoke, sat on the curved plush couch between Yeosang and Mingi of the rather compact red room with just enough space for ten people.

“Why is that?” Jongho asked, pouring himself another drink, the golden liquid in his glass like honey.

Hongjoong made himself comfortable at his spot on the left curve of the couch, legs crossed classily as his eyes stared at the empty little platform in the center of the room, the silver pole glowing cause of the mood lights..

“Isn’t entertainment like this supposed to be for one set of eyes?” San wondered out loud.

It’s not that he hasn’t ever experienced this before. He has. It’s just more private when it’s him and the performer. He never thought of doing an activity with his friends…though they have indulged in some acts on the ship when a certain someone was around.

“Yeosang and I used to do this all the time,” Wooyoung shrugged nonchalantly, making his best friend’s eyes widen at how he threw that info out so easily. “Oh c’mon, they don’t care about your Perfect Prince Yeosang reputation.”

Mingi chuckled at their interaction and Wooyoung narrowed his eyes at his friend.

“Why are you here? Aren’t you a loyal man? Now I feel even sadder for your girlfriend.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Mingi pushed his black shades up higher to shield his eyes. “I am a loyal man cause no matter what, no one can compare to her. I wouldn’t be in this room if Captain’s informant wasn’t a dickhead who will take offense if not all of us accepts his ‘treat’.”

“Also, this club has a policy of not touching the dancers unless they consent,” Seonghwa added. “We just enjoy the show the lovely lady assigned to us will put on, tip her extra and that’s it.”

“And we can’t just leave why?” San sighed, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Because the informants goons will report back to him if we turn down his gift,” Yunho explained, knowing the character of that rich man all too well. “Hongjoong still needs to be on his good side til he gets information of the location of the Cromer.”

A soft knock on the door silenced them and all that could be heard now was the vibrating hum of the music that played in the room.

“Boys,” Hongjoong spoke lowly, casting them a glance. “Play nice.”

Jongho raised his glass at that, leaning back into the other end of the curved seat.

“Good evening, gentlemen.”

Wooyoung stopped breathing. No fucking way.

Too lost in his own surprise of coincidence, he wasn’t able to catch the way his crew mates interest were suddenly piqued.

With you only being the one standing, Wooyoung was able to see you in your full glory. The purple lilac bralette bedazzled with sequins cupped your breasts so perfectly and the crystal beaded strings caught the fluorescent light in a way that made you shimmer and appear like a goddess. Behind the curtain of beads, all of them could see your naked skin but compared to when Wooyoung had danced with you earlier, the silk mini skirt you wore was gone.

Feeling all their eyes on you, you smiled coyly at their Captain, stepping your foot onto the circle platform in the middle of the room, showing off the skin of your legs that were elongated by your silver heels.

“Shall I get started then?” You asked, running a finger from your ankle to the purple garter on your thigh, aware of how their eyes followed the trail of your chrome lilac painted nails.

“It’s you.” Wooyoung breathed out, eyes tracing the waistband of the sorry excuse of an underwear that matched your bralette. It was tiny and flimsy, and almost left nothing to the imagination, except for what your pussy would look like. Wooyoung wanted to know.

Yunho glanced at his friend. How did he know you?

“Oh? Well if it isn’t, Mr. Arrogant.” You gracefully stepped your whole body onto the platform, circling around the pole while playing with the little crystal studded purse you brought with you.

Your words made Jongho chuckle.

“You work here?” It was a dumb question, Wooyoung knew that.

“What does it look like?” You shrugged your shoulders cutely before throwing your tiny purse to the curved platform behind them where you could play around some more if you wanted to.

“How long have you been working here?” Hongjoong asked, taking your attention from Wooyoung.

Smiling his way, you slowly sunk to your knees and ran your hand on your left thigh where your purple lace garter was.

The man before you smirked knowing what you were silently telling him.

Hongjoong dug into the inner pocket of his blazer and in between his fingers was a 50 Zaire bill. He leaned forward and without touching your skin, slipped the bill beneath the garter.

“Three months.” You answered him, sensually getting up to lean against the pole with your arms over your head, elongating your body for their viewing pleasure.

“I like your wig.” Jongho commented, eying you with a knowing gaze.

“Thank you.”

Wooyoung watched as you moved seductively on the pole, unaware of how San became completely relaxed and excited at the same time.

“Does all of this turn you on?” Wooyoung asked, eyes raking your body and feeling his throat dry at how drawn he was to you.

“Sometimes.” You purred nonchalantly, bending over a little to show the arch of your pretty back before expertly twirling around the pole.

“Earlier…were you lying to me?” He leaned forward, elbows on his thighs as he tried to meet your gaze.

“No.” You replied, locking eyes with the man in the middle whose hair matched your wig.

He lowered his shades close to the end of his nose, his eyes locking with yours and sending a shiver down your spine.

“You’re a good dancer. I had fun.” You admitted still looking at the tall man before you even though you were addressing Wooyoung.

“Are you having fun now?” San asked, surprising Wooyoung that he was interacting with you, his cat like eyes set on you and no one else.

“Because I’m here with eight handsome men rather than the sleazy ones? Yes I’m having fun.” You stepped your heel onto the plush couch, the men making space for you as you stood between Mingi and Wooyoung, your gaze down at Mingi who looked at you with stars in his eyes while the one behind you, going crazy with desire let his eyes wander.

Placing your hand delicately on Mingi’s shoulder, you slowly bent over, giving Wooyoung and Jongho the view of the back of your legs, your ass and your clothed cunt.

“I thought there’s a no touching rule.” Yeosang spoke, feeling himself grow hot, knowing the body his seeing all too well.

“I can touch any of you while I do my business since that’s what I was paid for but none of you can touch me unless I say so. So keep your hands to yourselves unless you’re putting a bill under the garter.”

You traced your finger along the side of your thigh, knowing full well that Wooyoung was watching your every move more intently than the others.

“Are you flirting with us?” Wooyoung licked his lips, mind racing with thoughts of kissing and feeling your skin.

“Maybe.” You winked at Mingi, making him smirk.

“Are you allowed to flirt with us?” Yunho asked this time and you moved to perch yourself on the platform/back rest of the couch.

“Yes I can flirt with you,” you nodded, placing your hands on your closed knees.

Wooyoung driven by desire, took out a 100 Zaire bill from his wallet and waved it your way.

“Open your legs.”

You obliged him, opening them an inch apart, entertained by how impatient he was with your teasing behavior.

“Wider.”

A little bit more.

“Make this worth all our time, sweetheart.”

Rolling your eyes at his demanding yet bratty tone, you surprised them all by spreading your legs wide, unfolding them into a flexible split on the surface you were on.

“Fuck,” San swore under his breath.

Wooyoung revealed to you another 100 bill. “Show me.”

Looking him dead in the eyes, you pulled your purple panties to the side, revealing your bare mound to their eyes. Some of them swore, some of them let out a groan and some of them just continued to look while they bite their lip. All of their reactions made you suppress an amused giggle, you kind of feel bad for them but you kept a straight face, not wanting to give Wooyoung the satisfaction of winning in the cat and mouse game you were playing.

“Oh baby,” Jongho cooed lowly, the familiarity of the pet name causing a chink in your armor.

“By the way, we can’t fuck.” You threw the rule out there, enjoying the way the handsome man you danced with was breaking at the seams.

“Why not?” Wooyoung scoffed, eyes on the pretty pink folds of your pussy.

“I’m a stripper not a whore.” You adjusted the panties back to cover you and you closed your legs, deciding to crawl to the side where Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho and Yeosang was.

“Like I told you earlier,” you could feel Wooyoung’s eyes on your ass. “Not everyone gets that privilege.”

Mingi swiped the bills from Wooyoung’s hand and handed it over to Yeosang, who nicely slips it beneath the garter. You thanked him.

“Now, Captain,” you turned to Hongjoong, who was looking at you with his signature smirk and his pretty brown eyes shimmering with amusement. “Tell me, where on earth did you find this arrogant, cocky and bratty thing?”

Wooyoung frowned at the sudden shift in your tone. The way you spoke with Hongjoong was as if you two were familiar with one another.

“Blame, Yeosang.” Hongjoong sipped his whiskey.

“He’s not as bad as you think, love.” Yeosang sweetly spoke to you, his hand moving to tuck a strand of your wig behind your ear to get a better look at you.

“He’s just a little dramatic,” Mingi inputted, tapping at his thigh and like a pet called to their master, you moved yourself to Mingi’s lap, straddling his hips.

“More dramatic than you?” You pouted cutely, running your hands through his pink hair. “So…how long did it take you all to know it was me?”

“Not long. We know your voice anywhere.” Seonghwa answered, quietly admiring you with just a small smile on his face. “But it is a big surprise to find you here out of all places.”

“Hi baby,” you couldn’t hold back your smile anymore as you cupped Mingi’s face with your hands. “Did you miss me?”

“More than you could possibly fathom.” Mingi replied, leaning in to kiss you but you leaned back.

“You can’t kiss me. Well…not here. They’re watching.” You tilted your head to where Jongho sat. “They can see us but they can’t hear us.”

“There’s CCTV on the right corner of the ceiling.” San told the group.

“W-wait. Wait a god damn fucking minute.” Wooyoung exclaimed, looking at you, settled on Mingi’s lap like you belonged there. Were you Mingi’s girl? What were you doing in a place like this? “You all know her?”

You pursed your glossed lips and turned to them, feigning hurt. “You guys didn’t tell him about me?”

“It was a topic that didn’t come up.” Yunho admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s not our fault anyways, Mingi was gatekeeping you.” Jongho added, making the big man in front of you pout, a reaction that made Wooyoung reel at the sight. It was unfamiliar to see their intimidating gunner all soft and not…scary?

“When did he join?”

“Three months after you departed on your mission. We had to make a stop at Jupiter and Wooyoung recognized Yeosang, and he followed him, and now he’s one of us.” Seonghwa answered, eying the size difference between you and Mingi.

“And none of you mentioned me?”

“Mingi was gatekeeping you.” Jongho repeated, making everyone but Wooyoung laugh. He was still trying to grasp the new information of how you were Mingi’s lover and a member of the crew???

“Sure he was.” You rolled your eyes, moving from Mingi’s lap to the round platform to continue your little show for them.

“What are you doing undercover here?” Hongjoong asked, placing another bill on the platform to keep up with appearances and you bent over sensually to pick it up.

Was Mingi okay with this? Wooyoung glanced with wide eyes at their gunner. Was he okay with all of them seeing you like this?

Mingi was watching you with desire. He was reclined so comfortably on the couch, his thighs spread apart as he bit his plump lips at the sight of you entertaining them in the sexy skimpy number you wore. Was this a kink of his? Wooyoung wondered, unable to stop the way his face scrunched at his many unanswered questions.

“Because the information Vix won’t give you, I was able to get.” You told Hongjoong with a smile, and the leaders smirk morphed into a grin. “It’s amazing how flowery words and too much alcohol was all it took. I didn’t even have to take my top off.”

“Good cause I would’ve gauged his fucking eyes out if he saw what was mine.” Mingi growled, hands closing into fists to restrain himself from holding you to him.

“Will you?” Jongho confidently suggested with smirk.

“Will I what?” You coyly smiled, acting innocent.

“Take your top off?”

“Was seeing my pussy not enough for you?”

Wooyoung couldn’t believe the conversation flowing in front of him. He was painfully hard but his confusion and shock had his mind a mess. He didn’t know what thought to entertain or what he wanted to ask.

“Nothing is ever enough when it comes to you, doll.” Mingi muttered, tilting his head a little to the side as if to get a better look at you.

“So you have what I want?” Hongjoong casually glanced at the CCTV keeping watch of all of you.

“Yes I do. The timing of everything is kind of funny. It was Vix I was supposed to be dancing for tonight,” you told them, twirling around the pole. “I was going to get rid of him for you since he’s not of use anymore then I would’ve found a way to get to Xeres since that was your next destination for a restock of supplies on the ship.”

“Well it seems destiny is always in our favor.”

“So shall I finish him off?” San asked, rolling up the sleeves of his button up.

“Will he be any trouble to us if we let him live, angel?” Seonghwa turned to you, licking his lips when you were on your knees, sitting prettily before them.

“He’s not much of a threat. We should be more worried about his boss because he asked for me after I finish with you boys.”

Seonghwa leaned over to add more bills to your garter and San’s defensive posture softened.

“Which is why I’m amazed at the timing of finding all of you here tonight.”

“Is it the first time he’s asked for you?”

They saw your eyes flicker with fear for a split second and you shook your head.

“But he scares me.”

Mingi and San’s aura darkened at your words. It took a lot for you to be scared by someone.

“He knows a lot of things he shouldn’t know. He mentioned and boasted about the Academy when I met him. I was sure then that my cover was going to be blown.”

“So what’s the plan now?”

“Well since I hacked into his data systems earlier in his penthouse just above this club and took more than I came for. At exactly 2:27 am, the club will black out and we can make our escape then through the back door here thats used usually by the dancers to get in and out quicker for shifts.”

“What did you take other than the information about where the Cromer could be?” Hongjoong called your attention while his hand raised slightly in a gesture that the rest understood except for Wooyoung.

“Jongho, can you please hand me my purse please?”

They watched as you opened the bedazzled flap of the purse and took the bills beneath your garter and stuffed them inside, giving Hongjoong a glimpse of a glowing crystal that was one of the most sought after items of the galaxy.

Hongjoong only shook his head with a smile and you decided to turn to the new crew member.

“So, Wooyoung, right?”

He was caught off guard by your sudden attention.

“It’s nice to meet you and I hope we can get along well,” you warmly smiled at him, your pretty face glowing beneath the colored lights.

“Two minutes,” San checked the time on his watch.

“Oh, fun.” You giggled, sitting on the edge of the platform.

“Can you even make a run in those?” Wooyoung glanced at your very high heels, trying to remove the image of your pretty pink pussy that you had flashed to them.

He remembered your exchange from earlier.

What do you taste like?

Like heaven.

It was against his morals to want to fuck someone that was someone else’s lover. You were Mingi’s and Wooyoung couldn’t deny the fact that he was burning with jealousy with the thought of you being touched by Mingi.

“She could kill in those,” Yeosang answered for you. “So back door?”

“End of the hall, camouflaged with the wall.”

“I missed you so much baby.” Mingi groaned getting up and placing his large hands on your waist.

“Me too. More than you know.” Your voice softened, no longer in the facade of the identity you’ve been using.

“Ten seconds.” San announced.

“I’m not gonna let you run around like this.” Mingi slid his hands to your hips, biting his lip at the tiny piece of underwear covering the heaven between your thighs.

“Here, Y/N.” Yunho handed you his blazer. “Wear that.”

“Thank you, Yuyu.”

His blazer was like a dress on you and it made you look so tiny. Wooyoung pushed his hair back, trying to ease his frustration of both lust and knowing too late about who you are. He was also a little scared of how and when Mingi will confront him later because he was flirting with you.

“Good to have you back, Y/N.” Was all Hongjoong said before the whole establishment was enveloped in darkness and the nine of you made your escape.

A small squeak came from you in the darkness because Mingi had thrown you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing, and he carried you easily as you all made your exit.

When the bouncer, one of Vix’s goons, checked the room when the power came back on, he began to sweat nervously at the emptiness he was met with. He was going to be in big trouble.

Jongho hijacked a black van and used it to drive the nine of you to where the ship was docked, which was going to be a solid thirty minutes to get to.

Your soft giggles was a pleasant sound to all their ears as Mingi was all over of you in the back of the van.

“We’re glad to have our favorite girl back.” Seonghwa smiled fondly, watching as Mingi attacked your neck with kisses and his hands tickled your sides causing the very missed melodious laughter to fill the van.

The Vice Captain looked to his left to check on the members all of them well and in one piece minding their own business and checking the parameter if anyone was chasing the crew. Seonghwa spotted Wooyoung staring at you and Mingi through the tinted windows, his Adam’s apple bobbing deeply as he swallowed what he could see was envy mixed with desire.

“You okay there?” He quietly asked their new member.

“Huh? What?” Wooyoung responded as if broken out from a trance. “Oh,I- uh, I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Y-yeah. Just…” he paused wondering if he could confide in Seonghwa but the handsome older man’s gentle eyes was hard to say no to. “Just shocked that’s all.” He decided to not share his deep feelings.

Seonghwa knew and could tell that Wooyoung was attracted to you, and he knew he was feeling conflicted for feeling that way especially after seeing how you and Mingi acted.

Wooyoung gave him a small smile before turning to the window again, staring at the buildings they passed by.

As Seonghwa left him with his thoughts, he wondered how he was going to break it to their newest member the true nature of the crews relationship with you. How kind of unorthodox it was….How Mingi was not your only lover but theirs as well.

taglist : @endeav0rsb1tch @eastleighsblog @scarfac3

Thank you for reading! Make sure to like and reblog hehe 💕

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 1 - "It's not too late, let's go."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: G

Warnings: -

Danny frowned, his head resting on his arms as he sat in a café, staring at nothing in particular. Tucker was sitting next to him, typing away on his PDA and Sam was across from him glaring at his current state of dramatic pouting, frowning and sulking while ignoring his favorite coffee order she had especially ordered for him somehow even though the store did not even have it on their menu.

"Danny, how much longer are you going to sulk?"

"I don't know. How much longer until my next chance of ever meeting someone from outer space?"

"Danny."

"We missed the Hero Gala, Sam! That was our one and only chance!"

He looked away from her like a stubborn toddler. He knew he was being especially dramatic but his friends and him had planned this whole trip solely for meeting members of the Justice League in person. For one, to maybe meet the people that have been ignoring their cities' call for help for years now and request it personally if per call won't work and two, fulfill some of their own personal selfish desires to meet the hero's each one of them admired.

Though their trip clearly had been eventful considering how a lot of his ghost rogues tried to stop him from even leaving Amity Park, they also learned about the whole media black out surrounding Amity. Turns out, the reason the Justice League was ignoring them was entirely because they didn't even know they existed in the first place. It was a miracle that they even learned about a Hero Gala in Metropolis if it weren't for an invitation somehow making it to the Mansons Estate.

Fun fact. Even if the invitation made it to them. Once they did make it to the Gala location they learned that it had happened years ago. Well wasn't that just great, and here Danny had hoped to get some help and maybe meet Superman or better Martian Manhunter.

Slamming his head onto the table and gaining the attention of some other cafe visitors briefly. Danny only turned ever so slightly so that his cheek was squished against the cold table surface. Still refusing to look at Sam but instead watched Tucker who was by now frowning at his PDA.

"Guys, I think there is more to it than us being simple late a couple of years to a Gala." Blinking made a noise to ask him to elaborate while Sam verbally asked why.

"Things didn't add up when we first left Amity, aside from all your ghost rouges were even trying to make us stop leaving until the very last second. Look at this, this is a photocopy of our last news paper from home and this-" Tucker slit a paper across the table and pointed at a specific spot at the top of the paper so both Danny and Sam could see it clearly. "-is a news paper printed today from Metropolis."

"I don't get it." Danny honestly stated staring at the spot Tucker had pointed it. Sam proceeded to hit the back of his head lightly, apparently having seen what Tucker was pointing out to them.

"The dates are way too far apart." She stated and Danny blinked, looking back at the printed date and the date displayed in the image of Tuckers PDA. "Are you sure you didn't save up an older newspaper?"

Tucker gave him an unimpressed stare. "Look at the headline. That's the incident that happened right before we went on this trip."

"Okay but what does that mean?"

"From what it looks like. Amity Park lives in a time bubble. Our technology as well as date seems far behind from everything we saw ever since we left. Even my beloved PDA appears to be old technology here."

The tree sat in silence for a moment, mulling over what they had found out so far after leaving Amity for the first time. But now that they thought about that, Amity was a closed community. There were hardly any people coming in and out of their town. In addition the only one who had ever entered their city from the outside was Vlad and even he didn't talk much about any other cities or people he could possibly know outside of Amity.

"That's a pretty interesting topic you guys are talking about."

Startled, the three looked up to see a new face that had appeared out of nowhere and was spitting next to Sam. The boy with auburn hair and yellow eyes who looked only a bit older than them and was smiling brightly at them with a back of chips in his hands.

"So you guys lived in a time bubble? That sounds interesting, can you tell me more?"

A second later two black haired teens appeared next to the boy, one sheepish and in a punk style and the other frustrated and appearing to wear more formal clothing. The frustrated one eyed them for a moment and Danny caught his eyes, noticing the calculating look and couldn't help narrowing his own eyes on him.

"Sorry about my friend, he sometimes acts before he thinks."

"I have a friend like that too, don't worry." Tucker answered and Danny shot him a quick glare before turning his attention back to the three newcomers.

"We couldn't help but overhear what you guys were talking about. You missed your chance to go to a hero gala right?" The sheepish one said after exchanging a look with the other black haired teen and Danny couldn't help but feel like there was some silent communication going on. The same he had at times with Tucker.

"So what?" Sam huffed, not willing to talk about their woes and sharing information with strangers.

"We happened to be on our way to one that's not open to the public but we could help you get in. Granted, I would like to hear a little more about your situation and how you missed the one you originally wanted to go to." In other words, give us information and we will get you to somewhere where you can meet hero's. Danny narrowed his eyes further, there had to be more to this catch.

His distrust must have been visible as the formal clothing black haired teen let out a sigh. "Look we have experience with time shenanigans, so we might be able to get you into contact with people that can help, from Young Justice or maybe even the Justice League."

"No one just offers help like that, without getting something out of it." Sam huffed arms crossed and glaring at them. Tucker also eyed them with suspicion and Danny had yet to let up on his distrustful glare.

"Well we do. So common, the private gala is still going. We only escaped from it for a little bit to get this guy some coffee. It's not too late, let's go! We can figure out the whole time bubble thing on the way there!" The brightly smiling auburn haired answered instead bouncing in his seat next to Sam. Eager to have Danny and his friends come along.

Only way later did Danny learn that the three teens that snuck them into a privat Hero Gala were actual members of Young Justice but that was only after they figured out the whole Amity lives in a Time Bubble situation.

[brucewaynehater101]

I have a spooky Tim au that I think you would like.

Tim is not human and has never been. He knows this. His "parents" know this. The rouges know this. However, none of the Bats but one know this. When around the Bats, Tim looks like a Normal Human. His skin is pale but does look like flesh and his eyes are weirdly pale but they still look like eyes. His hair has a weird texture but its prob just his shampoo, so surely the slightly off texture in how his skin feels is just his lotion, right? His teeth are a bit sharp but still human teeth and his movements a bit odd, but what Bat doesn't move strangely?

However when they aren't around, it is a totally different story. His skin changes to look like porcelain and his eyes are so very clearly made of painted glass. His hair is made of string and twine died black and when its fist or foot lands a blow it feels like being hit by a sand bag and not flesh and bone. His teeth are made of shards of broken glass and his movements are far to Jerry yet smooth, like a puppet on strings that glides through the air in a horrible mimicry of walking. This Thing that wears the Robin Suit is Not a human, as long as it isn't around Batman or Nightwing. When either are there, The Rouges can see the shift. The way it suddenly looks so *human*. But once Batman leaves it shifts back into being a *thing*.

Tim is only a Thing when he is either scaring the rouges or Truly Comfortable. Young Justice knows that Tim is not a human and he doesn't hide it from them. There is never any fight about his civilian identity because he freely tells them, "I am a Thing made from Glass and Sand and Fabric and Magic. He is not a Person nor has he ever Been A Person. He is not some poor sap who was transformed into a Thing, he is a Thing that was created and then given life with Magic.

As for how Jack and Janet acquired a Thing like Tim, well. They're archeologists. They dug up an old tomb, found a coffin that was chained closed and bolted to the ground and like every White Person In A Horror Movie, they opened it without a second thought. Inside they found an ancient, cursed doll. It came to life when Janet cut herself trying to clean off one of its broken glass eyes to get a better look and the blood fell on it. The pair then decided this was a lot easier than child birth and kept the cursed doll, naming it Tim.

My gods. I love the ending of this cause it gives off the same vibes as "humans will adopt anything" tropes in space travel fiction.

I have one caveat with the Bats not knowing. I hc that Cass knows. Tim's body language is too strange for her not to notice something.

Everything else? Beautiful. It would be hilarious if people keep trying to tell the Bats. Here's a possible scene:

Goon: *points finger at Tim* "That thing beside you isn't human!"

Tim: *fakes having his shoulders drop as he turns slightly away in dejection*

Dick: *absolute fury as he beats up the goon*

Tim: *decides not to get revenge after seeing what Nightwing does to the person*

or

Rogue: "I'm telling ya, whatever he is got string hair, porcelain skin, and doll like movements to him."

Batman: *hums, takes them out, proceeds to Batcave*

Tim: "What's up, B?"

Bruce: "[] said that you look different when we're not around you."

Tim: *tilts his head* "I mean, I like playing up the rumors that the Bats are cryptids, demons from hell, spirits, or whatever when I can. I add effects to my costume to increase the spook factor."

Bruce: *nods and turns away to end the conversation for now*

Tim: *makes plots to ruin that rogue's life for a bit as revenge and a message*

I'm curious how wounds and scars look on Tim's porcelain skin. How does he heal? Does he even have a spleen?

I'm also down for two avenues:

Jason doesn't know like the rest of the Bats. After they start to become close to each other, Jason retaliates against folk who try to demean Tim. He tries to hide the comments from Tim until he learns that the teen finds it funny and ramps up the rumors on purpose. Then he switches to pulling pranks on people with Tim to create more wild theories and gossip.

Jason finds out at TT, and Tim ensures no one actually believes Jason. Perhaps he even starts the notion that Jason was affected by the Pit. It drives Jason bonkers that no one is trusting him or accepting his words for what they are.

[lycheeloving]

I now have a writing brain worm because of you.

Reading the shared darling au, with Captain Marvel viewing us as a parent or sibling made my heart just squeal from wanting to pinch his cheeks. (Auto correct used punch instead of pinch.)

Reading yandere Bat Fam, especially non-platonic yandere Bruce, made me think of how goopy this man is for his kids and how he'd probably be feral for a partner who also loves adopted children the same. (As evident from Selina, but with cats.)

So imagine with me if you will, we're a civilian in Fawcett. (don't know if I wrote that right.) You see a 12 year old boy around the city who's obviously homeless, but he tries to help as many people as possible.

You make food that's good cold, will last awhile without a fridge, or is so fresh it's still steaming for this kid. You give him blankets and clothes that are too big because it's better for him to grow into them. You don't know where he disappears to during a crisis and it's eating you up inside. So you offer your place in case of emergencies, or if he just wants to come by.

Eventually, he trusts us and slowly starts appearing every now and again. You already turned a guest room in your apartment into his room. It's like having an outdoor cat, but it's a kid. You offer getting him enrolled in school again, through the Internet so it's easier for his lifestyle and cause you want him to succeed even if it's not in your home. He gets so emotional that he asks if you could be his parent. You say that you'll try your best and work to get a foster license. Billy lays low so CPS won't try to take him again since this is a home he found and wants to stay.

Meanwhile, Batman found out that Captain Marvel was a 12 year old named Billy Batson. An orphan with no shelter, food, or clean clothes. Who runs from every foster home he's been in. He debates how he's going to either adopt the kid or is going to find a way to make him stop being a Hero until he's older.

Bruce is deep in thought when new information on Billy surfaces. He's registered as a student for online classes. Bruce sees this as the opportunity to get the kid in Gotham. By offering these online students and their parents the ability to tour Gotham Academy campus, all fairs paid as well as accomodations, on the chance they will win a full ride for the Academy of three of them. Room and board for said winning students and their parents offered jobs at Wayne Enterprises, as well. Not as anything major, unless you have the skills for it, but still a good job with amazing benefits.

Billy is mildly excited at the prospect of going to an actual school. And the possibility of you also getting a better job with better benefits. There's also the fact that, in the city of crime, it'd be easier for you to legally become a foster parent and/or adopt him!

You two decide to take the offer. Billy feels guilty for leaving Fawcett, even though there's no guarantee he'll win. He also made sure to ask others to check in on his city in case anything happens.

While on the tour, the group gets held hostage by a gang who's leader wants to become an official Rogue. One thing leads to another and you get shot through the right side of your chest while trying to shield Billy.

This leads Bruce to having his own trauma brought back up and the guilt of orchestrating all of this, even if it was to try to give a kid a better life. All the other parents back out of the 'contest' but you have to go to the hospital in Gotham. Bruce pays for all treatments and opens his home to Billy while the kid waits for us to recover, visiting every single day. Billy gets the scholarship on the basis he accepted it and was the only one willing to.

Bat Fam grow to think of Billy as a brother and, other than Bruce, kinda hope the kid's guardian doesn't make it or stays in a coma. Bruce on the other hand is wracked with guilt. He made Billy go through the same trauma he did.

He also becomes obsessive over you, given the fact that you acted as such a good parent. And that you were like him, trying to adopt a feral child that trusted no one. The more he looked into your background and your actions, the more he wanted to get to know you as a person.

When you finally wake up, it's to Billy tapping away at some school work. Chocking out, "Bil-ly?" Gets the tiny boy to launch at you.

You find out about everything and feel guilty that the billionaire paid your medical bills and that you don't know how to repay him back. Bruce uses this to his advantage and asks you to be a secretary. Obviously, while we're learning to walk again and have physical therapy, the best way to move around is a wheelchair. Thank goodness Bruce is already prepared for that.

It was so kind to let you and Billy into his home after the injury. Even the rest of Bruce's Brood have come to like you after a while. From corralling business men, making coffee, volunteering at animal a homeless shelters, trying pilates or aerobics, and learning a bit of ballet as you regain control of your body.

You're walking again! You have money from your nice job. You're looking into getting an apartment for you and Billy.

That last part most definitely doesn't fit anyone else's narrative of how it should be.

...did i write anything about Captain Marvel? 🤔 Or did you just mean my fics made you think of him? lol

EITHER WAY this was really good & cute, thanks! I'm glad I inspired you <3

[leighsartworks216]

No Alarms and No Surprises, Please

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

I had this idea and decided to write it "real quick" (it took like two hours). I meant to do just like a really short thing so I could eat lunch and then get back to work, but then my brain was like no we gotta set up context

Titled after the song "No Surprises" by Radiohead. It doesn't exactly fit, but it felt right in my mind

Warnings: mentions of murder, tense moments, injury, burning flesh, bruises, bones breaking, blood mention, nausea mention, angst, literal hurt/comfort, soft Astarion moments

Word Count: 1,863

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You peeked slowly around the corner, holding your breath. Astarion hovered just behind you, almost touching you as you both surveyed your surroundings.

It was a palace, that much you knew. You also knew the guards were exceptionally strong. You already wasted enough healing spells and potions on the two guarding the door - you were just lucky they didn’t call for reinforcements. You also knew there was an artifact deep within the heart of this place that could provide some insight into removing the tadpoles.

“We’ll have to go around,” you breathe out slowly to the spawn. He gives a slight nod. As much as he loved bloodshed, sneak-killing all of them would be too high a risk. You almost came face to face with him when you look over your shoulder. He gives you a knowing smirk as he backs off. You nod down a side-hall. “That way.”

You gesture to Gale and Shadowheart, making sure they knew the plan. They nodded, waiting. You turn back to the patrolling sentinels. Their movements are constant and predictable, each pace following the same amount of steps. They sync, facing away from your destination, and you wave a hand for a companion to go.

Gale, ever the gentleman, lets Shadowheart go first. She hides behind the wall, out of sight. You wait again and gesture for Gale to go. He bites back complaints about his knees that creak under the duress of sneaking. He arrives just as a guard turns. Astarion could hear your heart thumping wildly in your chest; it pounds so loud in your ears you can’t even hear the guards’ footsteps anymore.

He wraps a hand around your waist, carefully pulling you away from the corner. You stare at him, worried he’s noticed something wrong. He nods toward the hall where your companions wait. “You first,” he whispers.

You want to argue - he can see the wheels turning in your head as you frown at him. As the de facto leader, you always worked to ensure everyone else was safe before you. You rested a little easier knowing you’d be the one in harm's way should something go wrong. But Astarion was a rogue, and used to sneaking around to boot. He would be much better at timing his dash to the hall than you could.

After a moment, you nodded. He pushed you back to his prior spot as he takes your place, poking an eye around the corner and studying them. He thought you’d die of a heart attack if this went on any longer. When the guards turn, he taps your waist. You crouch as quickly as you can to Gale and Shadowheart. They greet you with a tense nod.

You wait in silence for Astarion.

He almost spooks you when he comes silently around the corner. But now, further from the immediate threat, you have a chance to breathe.

The hallway stretches on for what seems like forever. Closed doors and open arch-ways line each side, perfectly mirrored. At the end, there’s a very small statue - but you’re sure it’s life size up close. The prospect of a maze with the ever-looming fear of getting caught doesn’t exactly thrill you, nor any of your companions, but nothing can be done for it.

You sigh and lead them onward.

It’s too risky to peek inside the rooms - if there were patrols inside you’d all be jumped and killed within minutes. At each arch, you glance around the corner, down the other equally as endless corridors. It’s oddly quiet. Not a guard in sight, even on grander doors that seem like they should be protected. It leaves you on edge. Waiting for the boot to drop and leave you in mortal peril. At the very least, you feel safe enough to stand up. It saves you from Gale’s grumbling.

You peer around another corridor and try to imagine the layout of the palace. You’d found a map once, but it was too tattered to make anything useful out. The most information you gleaned from it was where the staircases were. If you could find your way to one of those, you’d be able to go down, deeper into the belly of the beast. You believe, if your slipping memory of the map was correct, you could turn down this way and go all the way to the end, and there would be stairwells on either side of the very-tiny-life-sized-statue.

Resolved to your plan, you step through the ornate marble arch. You feel the pain before you register where it’s coming from. You collapse to the floor, cushioned only by a strong arm and solid body. A hand clamps over your mouth, pressing down tight to keep any sound from slipping through.

Oh. That breathless tightness in your chest is not from the pain. It’s you screaming. Trying to, at least. Your eyes dart frantically around as your body writhes against the person holding you. Gale and Shadowheart appear in front of you, kneeling down and working as fast as they can to help.

One of your legs feels weighed down. You stare at the chunk of metal for too long before it finally registers the trap clamping down on your leg. It looks and acts like a bear trap, but it’s been improved to burn red-hot when activated.

Fear grips you like a vice. You become conscious of the fact the teeth of the trap are almost meeting. It’s bitten through your bone. Or nearly through, anyway. You didn’t process it, too busy being victimized by the sadistic mechanics of the device, but Astarion, Shadowheart and Gale all felt nauseous as the crack continues to echo in their mind.

“Shh,” comes a whisper by your ear. You whimper and gasp and struggle, but the arm around your waist only re-wraps around you to pin your arms down. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

Astarion looks away from your injury, peering down the halls. The sound of the bone snapping was loud enough to attract attention, he just didn’t know how much, or when they’d be coming. Not to mention where they’d come from. For all he knew, their luck had run out, and any second a swarm of golden-armored bastards would be charging down the hall they were in.

“We need to get out of the open,” he hissed to the cleric and wizard.

Gale cast an ice spell, focusing all his energy in freezing the hinge of the device. If he could get it cold enough, it would become brittle, and they could dismantle it and pull it from your leg like cracking open an oyster. Shadowheart focused on healing the burns being inflicted to your skin as they were happening. It smelled uncomfortably like meat roast. Your blood vessels were cauterized. Astarion could hardly take solace in the fact when the usually-delicious scent of your ichor was replaced with the smell of cooking flesh.

“We can’t move them yet,” Shadowheart whispered, barely biting back her panic. She couldn’t keep healing you forever.

Gale grunted, brow furrowing further as he willed the ice to freeze faster, freeze colder around the metal.

Astarion felt useless, watching and unable to help. Holding you while you thrashed in agony was all he could do. He hoped to the gods he wouldn’t reveal a bruise over your mouth when this was finished. “I’m here,” he whispered sweetly in your ear. It was all he could think to do. “You need to keep still, love. It’ll be over soon.”

The words didn’t reach. You knew he was speaking when his breath fanned over your ear, but the speech-centers of your brain were thoroughly turned off. As were any of the logic-centers. Anything that could have told you they were helping, to calm down and stop moving, was replaced instead with klaxons and sirens urging you to struggle and fight back against the pain.

Footsteps. Loud and clanging. Getting closer. Astarion cursed. “We have to hide,” he hissed again, panicked.

There was no time to argue. They all seemed to have the same idea as Astarion pushed himself across the floor with his legs, pulling you with him. Shadowheart and Gale stopped casting in favor of moving your legs, as carefully as they could possibly manage. Hot tears slipped over Astarion’s hand as you thrashed violently with the motion. But now, at least, you were tucked into a corner. Hidden behind a pillar that framed the arch of the hallway. Everyone held their breaths. You didn’t catch the memo, but the spell-casters held your legs down so you wouldn’t make as much noise.

The clanging of armor rose in volume until the echoes through the corridors nearly deafened everyone. You momentarily stopped fighting. Though, Astarion couldn’t tell if it was because the sound had reached past your pain, or if your body was giving out under the duress.

The steps - 3 guards, if Astarion had to guess by ear - slowed from a run to pacing the juncture of the halls. They circled around, stopping occasionally. One set of steps stopped mere feet away. If Astarion leaned forward slightly, he could make out the point of a nose. Shadowheart and Gale slowly pressed themselves back into the shadow of the pillar.

Something touching his hand startled him. He had to fight not to physically jump and draw attention. A hand, your hand, rested weakly over his. He let go of your arm and turned his hand to hold yours. He could feel you whimper in his hold, the shake of your breaths as they hit hot against his hand. You were scared. He was, too.

He squeezed your hand and looked back at the pillar. The steps hadn’t moved. The sentry was still there.

Seconds ticked away at a snail’s pace. They all worried for a moment the guards had chosen to stay there and patrol the intersection. Then the sentinel stepped back from the arch. More footsteps followed. A pause. He could only imagine they were silently saying they did not find anything. And then the cacophony of armor drowned out any last doubt as they retreated back down the hall.

They all let out sighs of relief, even Astarion who had no need for air. He turned his focus back down to you. Your eyes were shut, your breaths were evened out. You’d fallen unconscious. It was a small mercy.

“Hurry up so we can get the Hells out of here,” he huffed. Shadowheart and Gale nodded, equally as eager to get back to safety, and returned to work.

Astarion slowly removed his hand from your mouth. Light bruises where his fingertips had been began rising through the surface of your skin. He sighed, upset at the pain he caused even through necessity, and brushed a tender kiss over the darkest of the bunch. He was too overwhelmed with relief to care if the others saw him. “You’ll be alright,” he whispered again, even though they did not reach you. He was reassuring himself more than anything. It would have been pathetic, if he could think about anything other than your wellbeing. “I’m here, darling.”

---

Tag List:

@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars

[zorosbeau33]

Alpha Laxus Dreyar + Courting Headcanon

❖ Fairy Tail, Laxus x Gender Neutral Reader

❖ Headcanon, Fluff, Comedy

❖ Tw: Mentions of fighting

❖ wc: 1777

❖ @tojiseviltwin @kimnamshiks ❖ Masterlist Natsu~❖

. ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

I was supposed to do a strictly Courting Headcanon but uh I got distracted...SO I shall put a strictly nsfw courting (and maybe some more bonus sfw) headcanon on my to-do list X.X Sorry

. ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

We are going to do Laxus post his first fight for this one~ Because we love character growth in this universe~

Laxus is an alpha, a seemingly calm alpha with a selective and secretive short fuse. 

He has no time anymore for meaningless violence. Laxus is too busy looking towards the future and doing whatever is within his power from behind the scenes to make the lives of his guildmates better

However if you purposely put yourself in his way, by threatening his assumed fairy tail this man will assert himself as the alpha and without letting that sink in he will strike

One blast of lightning is all it takes to fry most, and just to be a disrespectful shit, he will let his scent out so they are stuck smelling like the alpha who kicked their ass so easily and warning any of their buddies there is a Fairy Guardian ready to kick ass if they try to lay a hand on them

Unlike Natsu or Rogue he is not hiding or ignoring his alpha status, he doesn’t necessarily think it makes him better than anyone anymore. However He knows that secondary gender often leads people to be naturally stronger in terms of strength and scent

He is very mindful of how much force he puts into everything, from opening doors to helping someone up who fell. It would bother and upset him if he accidentally caused injury to someone who did not deserve it

Unlike how Natsu just has a generally lower scent unless he’s angry, Laxus’s scent is strong and he has gone through time to learn how to keep it calmer and not overpowering for those around him. In fact it is a rather grounding and calming scent that makes you feel you can rely on this man

He takes pride in his scent but understands not everyone wants to smell him 24/7 so he hardly ever pushes his scent out(except as a power move on assholes), and never scent marks not even the Thunder legion 

Although awkward when it comes to expressing affection, Laxus is a very passionate alpha it comes across in the tiny turns of his lips, the stance he takes to protect others, and the crackling of his lightning (it differs in fights against guildmates vs enemies you can feel his ferocity)

This goes for shows of affection to his guild mates too, he plays with them like a jock big brother would the youngest sibling. He treasures them but also this usually comes through him unintentionally teasing them or pissing them off by how he interacts with them

Alpha Laxus is not looking for power, he is looking for a family. A place to rest and a place he can protect with everything inside him

If he is needed to lead then he will but it will not be from the thought of I am alpha so you will listen, but because he wishes to protect and he will serve the role of protector (not alpha) but protector for those who he has come to accept as family regardless of their secondary genders, primary genders, sexuality, or magical ability

He has learned to protect the strong as well as the weak and he cherishes each one even if he does not know them personally all that well, when family views them as his family thus he will protect them

As for Laxus as an alpha to be with you, well you must be a member of Fairy Tail plain and simple, or someone Fairy Tail sees as family

If you are seen as family but a part of another guild it won’t work for him. He has to be able to protect you and while he does see other guilds as friends he can’t trust them with your safety

Civilian? Oh guess who just got the best gig ever? Working at Fairy Tail! Congratulations~

He is a quiet partner at first, he speaks with his body and actions. You’ll need to learn to notice his glances because they speak volumes about whether he is watching you lovingly, worried for you, or just perplexed by your behavior.

Same for his body positioning, he tends to linger closer to you not like hovering beside you, but same side of the room as you. Sitting just a seat or two away, or positioned so he can be beside you in an instant if anything happened

Laxus is not huge on PDA, he just is a bit awkward because he doesn’t really crave skinship in the way many do

He prefers to gently fix your hair as a way of giving you affection before moving on to the next objective. Or cup your cheek and smile for a moment before he walks away to go get you food or one of his jackets 

He will on occasion stand just a half step behind and to the side so he can rest one of his gargantuan hands on your hip and bask in your presence

Laxus will actually commit murder if he sees you crying. The snarls and way he snaps you up into his arms is terrifying enough to his guild members let alone the stranger who had hurt your soul thusly

He feels helpless but will be there to hold you and offer soft words of encouragement and protection. This is one of the times you would hear him give you verbal affirmations without having to ask for them. He will get revenge for you unless you stop him

If its because of unfortunate events, nature is nature after all Laxus will steal you away to somewhere safe preferably your nest so he can just be a strong shoulder to cry on, and later cook for you. Expect the best cuddles, kisses, and home-cooked food, unintentionally becoming more like husband material by the day

It's much later on in your relationship when he starts to act on certain alpha impulses

One of those is kissing you, he found you too cute before and he was in no rush to claim you. If you wanted him like he did you it would happen in time

When he finally acts on it, it is probably after a heated battle or moment where he feels he had nearly failed to be the man (not alpha) he wanted to be for you and is so desperate and filled with all the love he has been storing up inside for you

It’s a claiming and dominant kiss and later he will apologize if that wasn’t the sort of kiss you wanted your first kiss with him to be

Now he seeks you out sometimes tugging you in gently by your hips or cupping the back of your head while he presses slow claiming steamy kisses to your lips (or if he is feeling needy or worried about you to your throat by your scent glands)

If someone in the guild is getting too close or handsy expect his jealousy to leak out slightly in a small scent flare and him coming over to kiss your forehead and cheek and suggest you both go “-get a drink” “show him that thing you were talking about” or if they really pushed it “to our Home”

Another impulse he is acting on? Scenting for the first time in years! He wants to leave his scent lingering on you so that you know he is never too far away

It does ward off others as well, being an alpha but it was more because it's his way of claiming his mate as a man who is terrified to lose you and his family again

The times it is as an alpha is if you have to go into battle and either of you are worried about the other's safety. He hopes his alpha scent could deter any harm that might come to you, he knows it can't always but even if it helps a little it's worth using his secondary gender then. Please scent him back, it helps calm his mind that you will be okay while he has to fight. He also fights six times harder with your scent on him subconsciously fighting to defend his mate with all the deadly precision he has learned over the years as an s class wizard

If he knows you are okay with it he will often wrap you up in some of his clothes

It tickles his heart seeing you drowning in his huge things

He’s unaware of it but the others see that alpha light in his eyes when you wear something of his. All the pride and love of an alpha watching their mate but they really want to tease him for this behavior he's unaware of

Alpha status can sometimes be used by him without thinking if it can make your or the guilds lives easier or safer. It is less OOO I’m a big scary alpha and “Oh? Scared of alpha’s huh? Then get the fuck out of here before I show you what an alpha really is, scum.” 

Would not appreciate being referred to by his secondary gender, it brings up bad memories and discredits his actual prowess and growth. Use his name, or his position as a s class Fairy Tail wizard not “Alpha”.

Is re-assured if you like his secondary gender but it's something he wouldn’t realize he finds relieving until it happens and you tell him as such. Although he would still prefer if it was not one of your favorite things about him

Not the greatest at understanding what the other positions need, but he is trying to learn every single day. Has gone to the library to try and find books that aren't archaic so he can be sure to provide the family or you with whatever you require at any time. He still gets surprised by things, like why your little clicks and prrts can grab his attention from across a battlefield. Doesn’t realize that is his mate's way of calling to him and him alone and he is responding to it the right way, he may ask you to be more careful about when you make those noises after he accidentally gets distracted by it while you were cheering him on and Natsu socked him in the jaw

I’ll do a more courting one but I think this is more than I had meant to do for just him as an alpha lol XD Heres a few little more but I’d be willing to do a courting headcanon, or nsfw mate headcanon if people are curious

[imagine-silk]

Fallout Guys reacting to their crush Sole who has been traveling with them for awhile, and know each other like two peas in a pod, suddenly saying that they'll need to part ways for a little bit as there's something that they have to face alone. They promise they'll be back as soon as they find what they're looking for. A week passes and they return with a couple of items they picked up and gifts them as they apologize for leaving but they needed time to process. When they ask what they're trying to process, Sole says, "That I'm allowed to love you." As it turns out, they liked him too but was struggling with what their late spouse would think. Ultimately they decided that they'd want them to be happy.

》Ooh, I love this. Also, looking down the list I think they would feel conflicted about it as well. Extremely my shit.

【Danse】 "Are you sure?"

There is a certain self-loathing he has after Blind Betrayal that leaves him lost. Through all of it you pushed him better footing and he was doing so well. Then you dropped that on him. It takes a conversation to teach him it's also okay for him.

【Deacon】 "Of course it is. Have you seen me?"

Like always, he hides behind false bravado. He panics and tries to shift the focus to the idea you were bound to fall in love with his dashing rogue persona. Of course that doesn't work when he sees your face, like you're about to cry.

【Hancock】 "Took you long enough."

He had absolutely no idea you felt the same and he himself was feeling insecure about staying by your side with his love. You lost your spouse and here he was wanting that from you. But now that you told him you do as well he's over the moon.

【MacCready】 "Then I guess I am too."

He was in the same boat. Lucy only died a few years back, and to you Nate/Nora died less than a year ago. He was so caught up in figuring out if it was appropriate to love you he missed very obvious signs you were throwing.

【Nick】 "Lucky me."

He didn't particularly grieve Jenny, not in the way you grieved Nate/Nora, didn't have the direction to. He never thought to consider Jenny's feelings in his life. Somehow that made him feel better. You wanted him, and he wasn't the man from 200 years ago. You weren't a haunting shadow or clearly mistaken.

【Preston】 "I'm sure he/she would want you to be happy."

The idea of your late spouse made him feel conflicted from the start. You didn't seem to want to let go so he left it alone and refrained from asking. Because of that this came at him from a bit of left field. But who was he to say what they would feel about it or how you should handle it.

【X6-88】 "I see."

He did not see. To be blunt, Nate/Nora was dead, their permission was not needed. Even if they were alive you could ignore their wishes. Who would say no to you? Not him. But for you he'll sugarcoat it. It's not like he dislikes the news it comes with.

[clarencethemouse]

Bleeding Light (pt. 1)

Nightcrawler x reader

because I'm feral and no one can stop me :)

This has been festering rotting in my brain for a week. This reads like a whole story (and a long one, because I have a lot of thoughts), but my brain spouts better as bullets. So it's bullets. But as a story. Enjoy :))

(also I totally may write out a proper story later. But you get the lore right now)

the Pining.

let it be known that it was mutual. And it was mutual for a Long Time

You were already with someone else when you two met. With his never-ending charm, wit, and kindness, it didn't take long for you to hit it off as good friends.

this soon became a close friendship, often closer emotionally than you were with your partner. You were a mutant, unbeknownst to your partner (out of shame). You trusted them, and they respected mutants, but by the time you gained the courage to tell them, you felt it was too late to risk losing their trust over such a crucial lie. So you maintained this front, masterfully, for over a year

with Kurt, you didn't feel the need to hide. He understood. With him, you could bond and relate life stories in ways you could never with your long-term partner.

it was soon that you began to realize your feelings for Kurt were stretching farther than any other friendship before. And that you liked Kurt more than you ever loved your partner

this tore you up, and you became wracked with guilt. You didn't know how to end it with your partner, though you knew it had to be done. You still loved and cherished the person you spent the last year with, but it wasn't fair to them

over the last several months you two had planned a future together. It was a critical time of your life to gain independence, move out of home, and start your own journeys of life. For so long, you wanted to start this new life with them. It wasn't so simple as breaking up. Their, and your, near future was built upon the assumption that you would marry, as you did love them.

but not as much as you liked Kurt.

Your choice was made when you finally sat down with them and revealed your mutation. One thin cut was made on your hand. Light poured from the skin, igniting both of your faces in shock and fear. As the white blood trickled down your palm, your partner demanded why. Why could you keep this from them? Why did you withhold such an important part of you for so long?

when you could provide no answer they deserved, they walked out.

with your future with them obliterated, you had nowhere to turn. Nowhere to go to escape the psychological torture (and emotional abuse) of your parents' failed marriage. When you turned to Kurt for a deep shoulder to cry on, he provided an answer. An answer he knew would be best for you, and cursed himself that he was more excited about what it could mean for him. The X-Mansion

it only took mere days before you packed everything of value and were stationed at the mansion. It didn't take long for Kurt to convince the professor to let you stay, at least for as long as it took you to get on your feet on your own (and he wanted you to stay because... reasons).

you were more than happy to suggest doing your part as a teacher for the school

settling into the flow of the school, and life so close to people just like you, was a struggle eased by Kurt. He was the new kid before, and just as he had Rogue, you had him.

soon you built your own social circle and support group of friends, fitting perfectly into the puzzle that is the X-Men family. Soon, you were able to grieve your lost love and move on with the world you were always meant for.

...it did not take long for everyone to notice the brighter smiles you offered Kurt. The glances you sent him after making your witty, slightly dirty comments. How he was the first person you sat with during movie night, resting your head on his shoulder as you both grew tired. How you distracted yourself during end-of-the-day classes, searching for him in the hall through the window in your classroom door. How he was the only one you didn't hide the blinding paper cuts and golden scraped knees from.

and it did not take long for everyone to notice the way his tail whipped more excitedly the instant you entered the room. The way he recalled you explaining your day so enthusiastically as if you were the brightest, most wise creature to grace the planet. The way he was always the first to appear by your side after a more gruesome training session, examining every inch of your visible body more thoroughly than Beast. The way when he would let you down after a piggyback ride, his smile faltered ever so slightly to stop touching you.

so Rogue and Gambit formed a plan. Because that's what good friends do

she worked on whittling you down to admit it to yourself. He was happy to encourage Kurt to take more forward action with you. Jubilee soon joined in the plan, and soon there was a whole network of friends conspiring to get you two together because GOD WE ALL SEE IT. THE STUDENTS SEE IT. THE PIGEONS SEE IT. CHARLES AND JEAN HAVE TO SEE IT IN YOUR MINDS EVERY DAMN DAY. GET A ROOM.

and it works

Rogue got it out of you quickly. She was able to help you sort out your feelings and stop feeling so guilty about the past. You did what had to be done, and you never would have been truly happy with your old partner living a life of lies. But you can't lie to Kurt. He knew you deeper than anyone without even trying, and you wished to God he could know you a little better.

it took a month before Gambit was finally able to convince Kurt that you were struggling just the same. Because as much as the man flirted, teased, and worked himself into our attention by any means possible, he could not shake the dreaded pit feeling that you were still someone else's. You were still just out of his reach, and he would never know the feeling of your beautiful lips; your hands beyond high fives and thumb wrestling matches. Never have the honor to show the world everything he wished he could have with you

Kurt met you on the mansion roof. You were minding your business; reading a book and playing with light over the shadows. You didn't want to come inside. And if you were on the roof, that's where Kurt was gonna make himself comfortable. He would hang by the cell tower by just his tail if it meant you would talk to him. Anything if it meant he could tell you the truth.

it started with you looking over at him in a moment of silence, when you truly had no inclination to think he was there with any ulterior motive. Just one thought on the tip of your tongue

"You're so beautiful."

kurt.exe has stopped working

neither of you left the roof. The night wrapped with your head on his chest and his hand in your hair, him wondering where the absolute Hell it all went wrong.

you did wake up around 2 a.m. Sitting up abruptly at the surprise of your position, you were met with Kurt's golden eyes already awake and on you. No one beyond you two knows what happened on the roof that night, but your relationship changed. No more hiding.

when you returned to your lives the next morning, the others didn't need to be told that the mission was successful. Your smiles and bright eyes shared the whole story

[l0velylecter]

imagine...

characters : simon ‘ghost’ riley, john ‘soap’ mactavish, alejandro vargas, captain john price, phillip graves, kyle ‘gaz’ garrick  fandom : call of duty modern warfare ii rating :  m for suggestive themes, minors don’t interact (mdni!), not safe for work (nsfw!) tags & warnings : cursing & mentions of sex, female body parts, not proofread 

imagine price coming home at the same time as his ( extremely successful ) missus and leaning against the doorway to watch her undress in their walk-in closet. the mere sight of her under the gentle, orange glow of the lights, slightly bent over the table to take off her ( south sea, celine ) pearl earrings across the mirror enough to make him drop everything and just watch. silent, focused, entranced: price's eyes moved slowly, roaming down the bra and her sheer black pantyhose. when she stops at the realization of being watched, he only fondly tells her to continue, voice low and gruff — don't stop now, love.

imagine graves crossing his arms together and tilting his head to get a better view of his babygirl applying lipstick: laser-focused on how she rubs her lips together — rogue red (charlotte tilbury) staining the tip of her thumb as she swipes to fix it. graves only chuckles against her neck when she scolds him for ruining her hard work, his hands already hiking up her dress to palm her ass.

imagine soap melting against the soft and warm lap of his bonnie as she runs her hand across his hair, fingers grazing the scalp and turning his head into mush. his mind still heady from the lazy makeout session against the couch. she thanks him for taking her out on a pedicure, hands already trailing down his chest and down his abdomen to unbuckle his pants, eager to show him just how pretty her fingers look around his —

imagine gaz gawking at the set of wheels his love got him for his birthday, only recovering from the shock when she twiddled her fingers nervously, face crumbling at the thought of him disliking it. he immediately hopped behind the wheel to reassure her, fingers tentatively touching the leather interior. when the engine purred to life, he let out an excited cheer, eyes lighting up like a child’s on christmas. he can’t wait anymore, locking the door to push the passenger seat of his new aston martin v8 all the way to the backseat — pinning her under him, hands running down her sides. he wanted to thank his darling, in more ways than one. imagine alejandro having to yell at one of his men for jogging straight into a pole because he was distracted by his cariño — eyes in front, cabrón! she can't help but let out a bewildered laugh at his sudden outburst, running her hands down his shoulders to soothe his temper: reminding him that he's supposed to be lenient with rookies. flustered, alejandro had dragged her inside one of the tents, zipping the entrance up before trapping her against a table. she mentioned how silly it was for him to compliment her sundress only to rip it off. he says he’ll get her a new one.  imagine ghost pinning both her hands against the wall, a scowl under his balaclava as he snarls — you fucking brat. she lifts her chin in defiance to retort with a snarky comment. a moment later, she's weeping, sobbing, begging against his chest: three of his fingers barely pushing past her entrance. he stares at how her mascara stains her cheeks, lips trembling and legs shaking, clenching down his wrist as they try to balance themselves on sleek, black stilettos. not satisfied, he flips her so that she has her palms flat against the window ledge, ass bare for him to discipline some obedience into her.

a/n : i don’t know what would be a good title for this but these are just my midnight thoughts... i love the army couple trope , where reader fights side by side with the men, those are really chef’s kiss because it means the characters understand each other ( e.g : when it’s an afab! reader and it touches up on their struggles as a female officer in the army ) but i also need a benefactress or old money heiress or fashionable human rights lawyer or cia informant f!reader [ i used her instead of ‘you’ in the imagine above to test the waters but feel free to make it a self insert! ] who sucks with a gun in her hand but excels in other fields of counter-terrorism or even as a housewife/work wife/civilian. i know it sounds less realistic or even impossible, but to be fair, considering how military operations often need help from external divisions such as law, humanitarian aid, medicine, etc. it is more than possible + God forbid these women have military husbands who work covert and dangerous operations as if they also don't have hounds nipping their heels and praying on their downfall by playing dirty with the kind of money and information they carry. Although distinctly different, they can definitely relate to each other in more ways than one and maintain a form of mutual respect, understanding and even love.

 ( i just don't have the depth and writing skills to explain my thoughts and this very specific trope that itches my brain yet, but just wait babes i'll get back to my point in the future i swear 😭) additional hcs for imagine above : → i can see gaz as a long time james bond fan, so the car referenced was from the most recent bond movie starring daniel craig : no time to die  → i always see price and his dynamic with the missus ( wife ) as a george & amal clooney kind of vibe, except george in this case is jonathan and not an award winning silver fox but rather a medal decorated war hero silver fox. she would be a human rights lawyer ( and i’m sure she treats gaz like her own son and has met simon a few times due to how many missions he used to run with her husband back in the day ) → soap + a bimbo gf, he would adore her.... → graves wants to live that lana del rey national anthem life so bad it’s embarrassing ( me too ) where he owns a holiday home by the lake + he dreams of having a son when he retires so he can make him wear expensive khaki shorts and teach him how to fish ( highkey enjoys golf ) → alejandro falls victim to his girl showing up to base in a cute sundress only to find out she’s not wearing any underwear. he simultaneously loves and hates it. → ghost has a crying kink, don’t get me wrong, he has been through a lot and his trauma probably won’t make him enjoy any sadistic kinks. but he does like manhandling you and is not afraid of being a little rough, and seeing you all vulnerable and crying ( out of pleasure ) just drives him feral. plus, it turns him on to fuck you when you look so dolled up and pretty ( gives him a reason to mess you up ) +  likes the fact that you’re bratty too

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hello gorgeous !

Could you make something with a reader who is a very important fighter and in her plans she somehow married daemon as a second wife and made a deal with rhaenyra and daemon to respect and not threaten her people and kingdoms .

And when rhaenyra gets the throne , the reader asks for a divorce , breaking their hearts?

Stone Cold

Daemon Targaryen x Reader x Rhaenyra Targaryen

Summary: There was nothing more powerful than an alliance of two houses, and that was exactly what you offered the Queen and her consort to win the war. It was out of loyalty, but your heart was not as strong as your resolve.

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: Mentions of death/suicidal tendencies/war, fem!reader, second wife!reader, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: Heya nonnie (pls read this)! I saw this ask and was like OMG FRESH OMG REAL OMG YAS but then the more i thought about it, the more i was thinking it wouldnt be possible, like divorce wasn't a thing then and i know i could just make something up but i- i- dont play like that. and unless you're ok with a modern au, which idk if u are, i realized i could not write this BUT THEN while i was ranting in my reply of how i think ur req would really play out, i thought fine i'll write it anyway dw its not a modern au, but it's also not exactly your request either. its still pretty angsty tho so i hope you like it <3 ALSO IDK WHO IF I WANNA BE DAEMON OR RHEANYRA IN THE GIF I LOVE THIS GIF SO MUCH T_T Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda would you like to read a tibit of an epilogue for this?

Rhaenyra was my queen; she always has been even as a child. Having grown up with rugged brothers, it was clear to me that power was only gotten through force, through sheer will, and landed only on those born to be heirs.

And yet she was declared to heir the Iron Throne, regardless of her sex.

And yet she rode on dragonback as her long braids and ornate skirts flew with the wind.

She was living proof that my brothers were morons in their belief that women were less, and that if I wanted to, I could do what they did, even better.

So against everyone's wishes, my parents, my brothers, the whole of society, I stood where I wanted and spoke about my thoughts. Though I was not welcomed, I trained to be strong enough go go against my adversaries, not just with my wit, but with my sword.

I made a way for myself in court and in battle, and developed a fortress within myself that could not be felled, not by a man, not by anyone.

So when it came high time for me show my gratitude to my queen, I did not hesitate.

I pledged my allegiance to her, and watched her navigate her plans with poise. I watched her as she caressed her pregnant belly and felt my heart hurt for her. I watched as she turned to her husband, the infamous Rogue Prince, for comfort, and found it in his touches.

Oh, to be like her, to capture the heart of the heartless, and to exude such feminine grace even in a room full of men who doubt her capabilities.

And so I finally spoke my plans to her. I finally told her the loony thought I've had since the start of my stay in Dragonstone. Our families should form an impeachable alliance and strengthen our forces.

"You are suggesting that you become my husband's second wife?" Rhaenyra states plainly. Her hand is atop her belly, and her husband stood steadfast behind her.

"It would be only for show, my queen," I nod, "you are aware of my family's stronghold, and how they insist on remaining neutral through all of this."

Rhaenyra watches me intently as I explain. Daemon tilts his head.

"This would give my brothers no choice but to fight for me-- for you."

"And how would marriage guarantee that?" Daemon asks, "I am well-acquainted with your brothers' insolence."

"You are correct, Prince Daemon. There has not been a moment in our lives where my brothers and I did not go against each other's wishes, but through it all, they have a sense of honor, and they would rather die than allow our family name be put to shame. It is why they were so against the idea of me taking up arms in the first place," I cross my arms, "but since then, they have joined me many times over in my victories. They would surely not give up the chance to bask in our victory."

Rhaenyra and Daemon take in my words.

For a moment, there is only silence. Then they look at each other, examining each other's expression.

That night, I was married to Daemon by the traditions of his house.

After he kissed me, I turned to Rhaenyra and nodded to her. She offered me a small smile and nodded back.

Since then, we exercised our might against the whole of Westeros. Those who did not know of us knew soon enough that the combined power of our houses, along with all our other alliances, was not something to be taken lightly.

And so we were tasked to spearhead the war under Rhaenyra's command. Daemon would take the east, and I would take the west. Where one needed help, the other would arrive with their blade, still slick with the blood of the enemy.

Historically, men had done nothing but strike me and spit on my bones. Though he was now my husband, I thought little of Daemon. I didn't then in the fires of his youth, and I didn't now. I bring myself to care about him out of my respect for Rhaenyra.

Yet as time went by, and battles were won and lost, I grew to respect him as himself, as Daemon Targaryen, the prince commander of the troops, who knew exactly what he was doing.

"I did not think you were capable of doing anything un-serious."

I turned to him as he smirked. His eyes were on the my cup of ale, "might my lady wife spare me a drop?"

Daemon sits next to me, though on the ground, as I was sitting on a stump I found not too far off our camp.

I peer down at him as I hand him my half empty cup.

My lips part when he downs it and places the empty thing beside him. Daemon catches my look and chuckles under his breath, "oh, did you mean to finish that?"

I don't get to respond as he grabs my leg and leans against my thigh.

My stomach rolls at the sentiment. I did not know why he was acting like this towards me so suddenly.

He releases a groan as he closes his eyes, "you are my wife, are you not? Must you stare at me as though you wish to burn me with your eyes?"

That would only be the start of his affection towards me.

It was jarring, disturbing, really, how he would reach for my hair and brush it aside, how we would reach for my cheek and brush it with the back of his hand. He would not do it in front of Rhaenyra, and for that I was at least grateful.

I decided not to make issue of it, because it was not as though it was harmful really.

And yet it dawned to me that that was my mistake; he was an invader of my fortress, and I only realized when it was too late.

I could not calm my beating heart when we were ambushed.

It was not the blade against my neck that made me want to hurl, not even how the man who managed to capture me for a few minutes was gutted on my side and had his entrails gush onto my armor. It was not the violence that made my pulse deafening to my ears, but how Daemon acted out that violence.

"Release her now, and I will be swift about your death," he seethed. When he was not listened to, his face darkened. The moment he had an opening, he stabbed my captor in the gut. When I was pulled away by our men, I watched as Daemon rampaged the man with his bare hands, smothering him until he was deformed, until he was dead.

And then he turned to me, gripping my face with his bloody hands, examining my form, "are you alright?"

That was when everything changed.

Not only did I begin to anticipate, look forward to his touches, I began to lean into them. I began to look forward to his company, seek his company. I would worry if there was not word about him, and I would worry if there was, until I knew it was not grave.

I began to laugh with him, in the privacy of our conversations, in front of the troops, in front of Rhaenyra. I began to bicker with him unabashedly, for it became second nature. I began to dance and make merry with him, for why'd shouldn't I? Why not, when Rhaenyra teased us about it, when she laughed about it with us.

And then at some point, I did the worst thing.

I began to want him.

I began to want him the way Rhaenyra did.

I began to felt entitled of him, for after all, he was my husband too.

I allowed myself believe that it was alright, Rhaenyra wouldn't mind, after all, her husband was my husband.

But then I faced with the truth of how brazen I'd become.

But then Rhaenyra called for Daemon and he did not answer.

But then she gave birth too early and held her lifeless daughter in her arms.

But then he was broken because of it, and yet made no inclination to anyone.

But then I realized I was not apart of their picture, for neither of them even spoke their sorrow to each other, much less anything to me.

I was a fool to think I was deserving of anything. I was a traitor to them and our agreement. I was a traitor to myself.

And so I rebuilt my fortress, I pulled away from Daemon's touches and did not hold Rhaenyra's gaze too long.

I became reckless in battle. I dove head first into everything, not caring what the consequences would be.

It was because of my recklessness and severe injuries that we were at the precipice of victory. Daemon should have been applauding me where he was rebuking me. And Rhaenyra should not have been worried by her husband's news of me at all, not when she would benefit the most from my death.

Yet here I was, gripped harshly in Daemon's hands as I defied his wishes to stay in bed longer.

When that didn't work, he ordered me in the name the Queen to do so, because it was, in fact, her order too.

It dawned onto Daemon that it didn't matter which of them commanded it, I would not be withheld from the cries of war.

"DO YOU WANT TO DIE!?" Daemon demanded finally as I got onto his last nerve.

I did not hesitate to respond.

His expression dropped when he heard me say yes.

It was against myself that I began to bawl in front of him. I had worked so hard to keep my defenses, and yet it was all for naught.

"Why?!" he heaved, hands darting up to my face instead of my arms.

I shake my head. I would have to die first before I admit anything to him.

"I will have you chained like a madwoman before I have you succumb to your darkness," he quips, releasing my face, before dragging me to the tent post, undoing his belt and binding me there with it.

I cry out to him. I tell him to release me, of all of it, so that I wouldn't have to suffer.

"Tell me wife what makes you suffer, who makes you suffer, and I will swiftly end them."

I shake my head at the anger on his face, "Daemon, please."

"TELL ME!" he quips, grabbing my face again.

I choke on my tears finding as I allow my voice to betray me.

Daemon knit his brows, "what was that?"

"It's you, Daemon," I whine, screwing my eyes shut, "it is hell to be around you. I do not want this pain anymore."

He releases me, stepping back twice, "and what mortal err have I done to make you loathe me so?"

I peel my eyes open, chest constricting at the sight of him. I shake my head, "nothing."

Daemon's nostrils flare. He grabs my jaw tightly, face tense with hatred, eyes glassy in betrayal, "then why?"

I whine at the pain of his grip.

He heaves as he releases me, shaking his head as he walks back, "will you drive me mad along with you, selfish bitch?"

I shake my head again, "Daemon-"

"ANSWER ME!"

"Because I want you!" I blurt, "I want you so bad when I should not-- I cannot!" I grip my hands tightly, "we may be married, but you are not mine. You are Rhaenyra's, and I do not wish to ever come in between that. Not after all that has-"

I cut myself off when Daemon began to undo my ties. I myself began to back away from him when he began to rid himself of his clothing.

I threaten him with my words. When that does not deter him, I threaten him with the blade I managed to snag.

He was stoic the entire time. He asked me to kill him, dared me to kill him. Of course I could not. I threw the blade to the side.

He called me a fool as he undressed me. He called me pretty when he began to kiss me. He called me his when he began to fuck me.

I shouldn't have, gods know I shouldn't have, but I did, I let him have his way, because I wanted him to. I wanted him to touch me, to use me, to take his anger out on me. I wanted to for so, so long.

It was everything I ever imagined and more.

And enjoyed it deeply before I hated myself viscerally after.

It was clear at one point that everyone knew of us. Our dynamic had drastically changed from when we were first married to now. They all knew what he and I did in the dark, but why would they care, we were, in fact, married.

I cared though.

And I guess it was the will of the Stanger to allow me that one thing before collecting my soul.

I did not fight against it. I did not try to save myself.

When I decided to take the blow for Daemon in the battle field, it was not out of my selfish desire to find freedom in the shackles I bound myself in, it was because I wanted to save him, I had to save him.

He admonished me as he carried my limp body out of the skirmish. He called my name and threatened to do his worst if I thought of closing my eyes at all.

It was nice to have made it long enough to make it through the transport, to see Rhaenyra, and her and Daemon's children that I myself found to love in my own way.

I felt bad that they all seemed to be sad that I was fading away.

I felt bad that Daemon had to be the one to carry me here.

Where was Daemon?

"He's gone to finish the war," Rhaenyra said, holding my hand firmly in hers.

"You can hear me?" I mutter as I watch her sad face.

"Of course I can, my dear," she caresses my cheek, "why wouldn't I?"

I close my eyes, "I beg your pardon, my queen."

"No!" she calls, shaking my cheek, "you cannot sleep until Daemon has returned. He is but a fortnight nigh."

I hum, "she has been so lonely though."

"Who? Who has been so lonely."

"Visenya."

Rhaenyra pulls her hand away. One of the children gasps.

"I told her that I was not her mother, that you are," I sigh, "but she told me she wanted me to stay with her."

Rhaenyra is bewildered. For a moment she is unable to do nothing. She repeats the name she called. When she is not met with a reply, she takes another moment to collect her thoughts, "you cannot answer my daughter's call. Your duty is with me, not her."

Rhaenyra's face tenses when she does not get a reply yet again.

She calls out, one, twice. She shakes the hand in her grip, and remarks once more about Daemon, knowing that would do the trick, she knows it will, it has to.

A chill runs down her spine when she realizes was for nothing.

It is too late.

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 27 - "I don't know if they will accept this."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: -

A/N: Started writing this yesterday and finished it during lunch break today. So I decided to take a break tomorrow and post this early :D

Danny nervously poked his scrambled eggs as he sunk just a little lower in his chair. His eyes flicked back and forth between all of his new siblings that were currently in a heated discussion not noticing his slow withdrawal from the discussion and acting like he really didn't want to get noticed by them.

"Have you seen Mister Freeze's new sidekick? The white haired one that's probably a Meta with ice powers?"

"You mean Wraith?"

"Wait, I thought the kid was Ivy's sidekick? He helped blow up a facility last week!"

"No, no, no, no! Isn't he with Scarecrow?! I am sure he accidentally screwed up with the Fear Gas ten days ago so no one go harmed! But Scarecrow screamed at him that being new to the job wasn't an excuse."

"Didn't he help Catwoman steal two artifacts a couple days ago? One of them wasn't cat themed though I am pretty sure he was with her that time…"

"Wasn't he also the kid that was with Joker the last time he broke out? You know the white haired kid that was forced to assist him and tripped him right into his own trap and made the whole arrest a lot easier and quicker than usually?"

"It's like the kid switches who's sidekick he is every week…"

"Maybe he is interning with villains before breaking off to do his own thing? We better keep an eye on him."

Danny sank just a little bit lower in his chair and avoided looking at Alfred. Of course Danny knew about his new family's night time jobs, well day time in Duke's case, but when they had asked him if he wanted to take part in it he had declined. They didn't know about his second form, they only thought of him as a Meta with ghost powers that just escaped a horrible situation and now wanted a quiet and somewhat normal life. So they had accepted his decline in going into hero work, especially Alfred and Bruce appeared to be most relieved and happy about that decision at first.

But what Danny hadn't told them was that he might have declined going back into hero work, that didn't mean he would stay completely out of that side of his new family's life. The half ghost hadn't planned on it but it had all started with him accidentally coming across Poison Ivy. She reminded him of Sam in her values, so before his brain was able to catch up Danny asked if she wanted help blowing a facility that was pumping toxic waste into the water. Years of helping Sam with organizing activist protests did that to his brain.

One thing led to another and somehow Danny found himself more often than he liked in his phantom form acting as a sidekick or assistant to the rogues this family was fighting. In a way Danny felt like he was now more of an anti-hero than a hero, still fulfilling his obsession of protecting by finding creative ways to foil the rogues' plans if they get too dangerous or murderous but not really doing the whole righteous hero stick either.

Plus by working with Mister Freeze and Scarecrow at times he also gets to fully live out the mad scientist side of his brain. With them especially he gets to create whatever his weird wired brain could come up with, though, he did 'accidentally' leave behind USBs or papers with his inventions for Tim to find at the crime scenes.

What his new brother did with them was none of his business. If the Bats and Birds suddenly had new equipment in their arsenal that looked eerily similar to his inventions than that was that.

The problem was… his new family probably wouldn't like or accept that kind of turn of events. They were righteous and defenders of justice with moral codes and standards, Danny wasn't sure he could fulfill at the moment. Watching his new siblings arguing back and forth about Wraith, his new anti-hero alias Selina, Harley and Ivy had come up with, made his stomach sink every morning. In fact Danny was getting more and more scared with the passing days that his new family would kick him out the moment they learned about it just like his former parents had done.

He wished he had Jazz's contact to talk this over with her, but because of his situation Bruce found it better to wait a little longer before he could safely reach out to her. Maybe he could ask if Harley could talk with him instead.

A cup of tea was placed before him and Danny's head snapped up (when had he started to look down?) to find Alfred smiling calmly at him. "Master Daniel, I believe a nice cup of tea will help calm down your nerves."

"Thanks." Danny mumbled his hands cupping the cup and letting the warmth of it seep over his hands into his arms to comfort his nerves. He took a sip, eyes going wide for a moment before he looked over to Alfred who was currently taking away Tim's third cup of unfinished coffee while the other was distracted with the ongoing discussion. The old man gave him a knowing smile and Danny couldn't help the small grateful one that formed on its own, though he also couldn't help the slight feeling that Alfred knew what was frazzling Danny's nerves so much.

"Jason, maybe you can get into contact with Wraith?"

"Why the fuck should I?"

"You have a different reputation than us as Red Hood. He might be more willing to talk with you, to figure out his motives and such."

Danny choked on his tea, hurriedly placing the cup back on the table before pounding his own chest in a desperate attempt to get any tea that went down the airpipe out.

"Danny! Are you okay?" Dick was instantly on him, worried older brother vibes and all that.

He wheezed before breathing in relief once he stopped coughing, giving the oldest a barely hearable "I'm fine."

"<tt> Try not to die stupidly like this, Fenton." Damian clicked his tongue and Danny gave him a toothy grin.

"I am already half dead." He heard Jason snort. While the family thought Danny was just a Meta with ghost-like powers. Danny had explained his accident to them and how he died and revived with powers through it when they asked him why he was insisting through jokes that he was half dead. Jason and Dick were the only ones who really enjoyed his death related jokes and puns, the others were more worried about his mental state.

"Leave the death jokes to Todd, Fenton."

"Oh come on, don't ghost me like that! My jokes are just as much to die for then his are!"

"Fenton."

Danny just laughed, while the previous discussion made him fear for the future, he still loved the family he had gotten added into by sheer luck. He had come to quickly love them all and felt like his own weirdness fit perfectly into theirs. It truly made him hope that he could stay with them for a long time and maybe even add Jazz into the picture as well once his whole situation was more secured and Bruce would allow him to contact her and his friends.

Later that day Danny was in the library reading a book on Molecular Structure of the human biology and how it can mutate depending on external influence, as a preparation for his next endeavor as Wraith with Killer Croc, when he felt tapping on his shoulder.

Turning his head slightly Danny startled finding Cassandra in his personal space sitting next to him with a mirthful smile. She gave him a small wave as a greeting before sitting back a little, apparently satisfied with the fact that she sort of scared him there a little.

"Hey Cass." He smiled, putting one of the many bookmarks, Jason had distributed and stored away everywhere in an effort to stop his siblings from creating dog ears in books, on the page he was on before closing the book in his hands.

"You worry too much, relax." She signed with a reassuring smile once Danny had turned his full attention on her. Confused, the half ghost on the other hand tilted his head, puzzled about what Cass was going on about. He did feel rather relaxed right now.

"You being Wraith." Wide eyed Danny hurried to cover Cassandra's hands, like one would cover another's mouth if they blurred out a secret. His eyes hurriedly darted around in their surroundings but aside from the shelves filled with books Danny couldn't see nor sense anyone that might listen in on them.

Cass was shaking in silent laughter as Danny nervously turned back to look at her. "How…"

Slowly she freed her hands from his and patted them comfortingly before beginning to sign again, smiling knowingly. "I saw. Your body language is the same."

"I…" How was he going to explain this? He had gotten found out, was Cass going to tell him to leave now? Was this the end of his new found family life? It came sooner than he anticipated. Blankly he stared at his hands that uselessly lay in his lap on the book cover, one hand slowly moving to nervously trace unseen patterns on the books spine.

Danny did not see how Cass frowned at that action, all mirth gone from her smiles. She did not like her brother was drawing into himself, doubt and fear started to radiate from his body language and Cassander didn't like that even more. She moved a little closer, so that she would have an easier time to reach Danny and poked his cheek mercilessly until her little brother looked back up at her.

"No need to explain." She actually spoke instead of sign just to show Danny how serious she was. "It's fine. Funny even. Like Selina."

"But…" A lump formed in his throat and he swallowed, trying to find the right words. Cass waited patiently for him. "Mom and Dad… my former parents… they didn't accept me as a ghost hero…"

Cassandra nodded but didn't sign nor say anything, seeing that there was more her newest little brother wanted to say but still trying to find the right words for. It was something she could relate to. Unable to find the right words, hadn't she been through that before too. She lay a comforting hand down on Danny's shoulder, once more waiting patiently.

"I… I don't know if they will accept this… this turn of events. Especially in this family. You all are taking the Hero route and I…" Danny swallowed once more. "I can stop, I can change. I just don't… I don't want to lose another family…"

Before Danny knew what was happening he was enveloped in a warm hug, he blinked several times before realizing that Cass was hugging him tightly. He was held like this for a while before she drew back from him, poking him once more to make him look at her once more.

"No need. Don't stop." She spoke her voice, soft and smoothing while smiling at him brightly.

"But…" She shook her head, silencing whatever Danny wanted to say before giving him a mischievous smile, her hands letting go of his shoulder so sign her next words. "You are not hurting anyone, you keep them from killing, from being too dangerous to civilians, not really breaking any big laws. You help us in your own law breaking way. Like Jason does."

"I am not as good as him…" Danny mumbled still unsure but Cass only smiled fondly ruffling her little brother's hair.

"You started to smile more since you became Wraith." She flat out told him, causing Danny to look up at her stunned and she laughed silently. "Keep going. If you go too far, I will be there to pull you back."

"You're like Jazz…" Danny mumbled, finally with a little smile on his face and Cass returned it with a satisfying one of her own before pulling him in for another hug, he returned this time.

That night, Orphan watched happily how her little brother laughed carefree and freer than he had in a month sitting on Killer Croc shoulders, testing out his newest invention while the rogue was trying to get him off, unsuccessfully so far. Her other brothers surrounded the two and tried to figure out what was going on since Wraith was supposed to be their rogues gallery sidekick and not challenge them like that.

She laughed even when suddenly out of nowhere a USB-Stick hit Red Robin in the face. Obviously she had caught Wraith flinging it in his direction, but she was not about to tell them that. Orphan would let them figure that out on their own, meanwhile she was going to enjoy watching her newest little brother smile and laugh while being the chaos gremlin she had seen in him from day one as he was messing with the rogues as well as vigilantes / heroes of Gotham.

[starlight-eclipsed]

Rockets Pointed Up at the Stars (Pt 2/2)

Part I

Despite what Phantom had implied, tracking down Batman wasn’t done in an instant.

Sure, they’d be back seconds after when they left. But with time travel in the mix, that could be hours or days apart. They’d already followed him back to his initial landing time, when Neanderthals were still around (and wow, was there a difference between factually knowing some people had been around since the dawn of humanity and physically seeing Vandal Savage in the flesh as a caveman). According to the trail left by Clockwork, the ghostly guardian of the timestream, they were getting close.

Apparently Bruce couldn’t make things easy and was also making jumps through time, which if left unchecked would cause the timeline collapse that Clockwork had recruited Phantom for. Specifically Phantom, as it turns out the thief that liked messing with him on weekends was also the Master of Space and the King of everything.

(Phantom insisted it was just a title, and he was only king of the Ghost Zone. It just so happened that the Ghost Zone was also known as the Infinite Realms, which contained every reality of every universe in existence.

And he’d won that title by defeating the previous ruler in single combat.

The High King had to scramble to catch Tim when his knees gave out at the realization that he had unknowingly gone toe to toe with someone who made Darkseid look like a toddler in a sandbox. What the fuck, Phantom.) 

As of now, they were waiting for the actual Blackbeard’s ship to dock to investigate the fabled Black Pirate he supposedly fought a week ago, whose description matched Bruce’s. Phantom had gone to grab them something to eat while they waited in a tavern, leaving Tim to save his seat. If someone told him even a week ago that this was where he’d be, Tim would’ve interrogated them for hours to try to figure out what it meant.

But no, he was just sitting at a table in the 18th century, a medallion from the Master of Time hung around his neck, waiting for his hero-turned-king-gone-rogue to return with food while they waited for Blackbeard the legendary pirate to show up. Jason would probably kill to be here in his place.

Tim was broken out of his thoughts when Phantom returned, two bowls of soup in hand and balancing an additional plate of tough-looking bread on his forearm.

They’d been forced to ditch their masks when Puritans tried to have them hanged a century ago, now dressing in more accurate clothing to better blend in. Phantom had apologized for discovering Tim’s real name, going as far as to reveal his own secret identity: a black haired blue-eyed teen named Danny.

“Heads up, it’s gonna be either too salty or bland as wood. I’m pretty sure the cook wanted to strangle me for asking too many questions about the ingredients.”

Tim snorted, accepting his bowl, “Is that why we don’t get spoons?”

“Nah, the owner doesn’t trust customers to return the utensils. Drink from the bowl, though you might want to soak your bread if you don’t wanna pull a muscle chewing it.”

“Noted.” Tim dared to take a sip, mulling over the taste. It wasn’t anywhere near Alfred’s level, but a step above his own adventures in the kitchen before getting a hard ban post-pancake incident. It tasted closer to brine than soup, but it went surprisingly well with the bread.

Phantom hummed in pleasure, proving yet again that his standards for food consisted of ‘isn’t actively resisting consumption’. Tim could hardly judge him for it, seeing as his own bar wasn't much higher.

“So, I’d say we have an hour or two until our man arrives. Want to go over the plan again?”

Tim shrugged. “Unless it’s changed from ‘confirm Bruce was already here before following the nearest skip in time’, I think we’re good.”

Phantom nodded, silence falling over them as they ate their way through dinner. Tim kept an ear out for trouble, but the tavern was quite peaceful this time in the evening. It was likely to change once the Queen Anne's Revenge finished docking, but for now he’d savor the ambiance.

“Wanna play twenty questions?”

He blinked, refocusing on Phantom sitting across from him. “Huh?”

“I just figured it might pass the time. Twenty questions, no lies, though you can reject them if you don’t want to answer.”

Tim considered it before nodding, “Sure. How old are you?”

Phantom grinned, “Seventeen, same as you. Why Robin?”

“I wanted to help Batman after the previous one died. Nobody else would intervene, so I stepped in. Why Phantom?”

“Okay, hear me out…it’s a pun.”

Tim paused, gesturing for him to elaborate.

“Before I was half-ghost, my last name was Fenton. So as a ghost, Danny Fenton became—”

“Danny Phantom,” Tim groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were subtle.”

“Hey, nobody expects the dead guy to moonlight as a living person. Sunlight? Whatever. Favorite hobbies?”

“Photography and skateboarding. Favorite power?”

“Ooh, that’s a hard one. I’d have to say flight. Nothing beats flying at night. Sexuality?”

Tim spluttered, making Phantom laugh as he blushed. “What the heck?!”

“Hey, you can always skip,” the asshole offered.

“No, it just caught me off guard. I’m bi. You?”

“Pan. And trans, while we’re at it. Ghosts can shapeshift, so I got a perfect transition at the low cost of death.”

Tim snorted, “Death is an ally.”

“Absolutely, it comes for us all,” he winked. “If you had a single power, what would it be?”

“Something so I wouldn’t need to sleep. I can manage otherwise. What determines the things you take?”

Phantom grinned, “Once a detective. But seriously, I just aim for things that look cool and won’t be missed too much. Some people will kick up a fuss over their trash if they think it’s worth stealing. Thoughts on soulmates?”

He stopped, some part of him catching on how serious the otherwise silly sounding question was phrased. As if the way he answered this could mean life or death. “You mean, a couple acting like they’re made for each other?”

“Ah, I wasn’t sure whether you had them in your universe. On my Earth, everyone is born with some kind of connection to at least one other person. Shared thoughts, a timer countdown to the time they first meet, stuff like that. Platonic or romantic, they were called soulmates.”

“So…someone you’re destined to meet and get along with? Is it magic based?”

A nod. “Humanity’s done research but they haven’t concluded on that yet. I asked an Ancient whose domain was centered around it, and they said it was determined by a soul’s resonance. I don’t know the specifics, but something about how all souls that resonate a certain way are born with soulmarks, so that they have an easier time finding each other. There are studies about how soulmates tend to understand each other easier, but other than that there’s no empirical proof that they’re different from any other relationship.”

Tim considered it. What it might’ve been like, to be told the second he met Dick that fateful night at the circus, ‘this boy will permanently alter the course of your life’. To have been able to approach Batman that first time, point to his wrist, and automatically be listened to instead of resorting to blackmail. How much easier it would have been to avoid the misunderstandings that defined their whole family.

Then again, it would be just his luck to have been born in that world and not have any soul connections to the Wayne family, making him work twice as hard for the same level of trust. Or to be born without resonance at all, and be left knowing that he was truly beyond reach. What would that do to him, in a society where people could point at the worst criminals and say ‘even that monster has someone they love’? To be soulmates with a genuinely terrible person?

“It sounds like a mixed blessing,” Tim said, meeting Danny’s gaze directly. “I would love to have someone like that by my side, and I’d be terrified of being defined by it.”

Danny leaned back, wearing a self-deprecating smile that Tim was quickly learning to recognize. “Yeah, that’s fair. Your turn.”

“What…what is your personal experience with soulmates? If I’m allowed to ask.”

He hissed out a breath through his teeth. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I thought you’d say.”

“I can ask something else?”

Danny waved a hand in dismissal. “I’ll answer, just lemme figure out how to put it.”

“I’ll return our dishes while you think through what you want to say.” Tim stood with his empty bowl, easily accepting the other bowl and plate as they were handed to him.

Walking back, Tim cataloged the people hanging around the tavern. A group of friends huddled around a dozen plates, decked out in gear that made it look like they just finished having some grand adventure. The bartender, a sly smile on her face as a drunken man clumsily flirted with his own wife. The cook instructing a boy to retrieve the dishes from Tim, sending a calculating glance in Danny’s direction before nodding at Tim and turning back to the fire.

Tim didn’t spend a lot of time in public anymore. His fame attracted far too much attention now that the press could consistently recognize him. But maybe once things settled back down again, he’d try civilian life again. There was something different about living alongside the people he worked to save, instead of far above looking down.

By the time he returned to his seat, Danny looked ready to talk.

“My soulmate rejected me when we were little.”

Tim blinked. “You can do that?”

“Ah…sorta? Depending on the connection, one side can choose to shut it down. Mine let us exchange messages. I was a dumb kid, and sent out a ton every day to try and get any kind of response that they were out there. They got sick of it and blocked me.” Danny laughed, but it wasn't very funny.

“I’m sorry. That sounds awful.”

“Don’t be. I annoy everyone—it was only a matter of time before I did something to chase them away.”

“Would you stop doing that?”

Danny blinked, tilting his head in silent question.

“Look, I get that you went through a lot of shit before coming to Gotham. But you keep acting like it’s a given that everyone you meet will be awful to you, and it sucks to hear you talk like that when I’m having fun with you. It wasn't your fault, so stop claiming credit for it. If I can’t justify losing Robin, you can’t justify being abandoned.”

“...alright then.” Danny huffed, folding his arms and pouting. “Neither of us can talk shit about ourselves.”

The twinkle in his eyes was enough for Tim to know he got through to him.

— - —

Tim leaned up against a fence in the Wild West, shifting uncomfortably in his dust coated clothes. Danny was perched beside him, smugly radiating a cool breeze that may very well have been the only thing keeping Tim upright in the summer sun.

“There’s too much sunlight here, it’s unnatural.”

“That’s just your Gothamite showing, city-boy.”

“Fuck off.”

Danny’s laughter had become a staple of the past few days spent traveling through history. In turn, Tim found himself happier than he’d been in ages, making sarcastic comments about anything that caught his eye in an attempt to get Danny to laugh more.

So far, he’d yet to fail to bring at least a smile to the other’s face.

Right now they were in the late 19th century, following rumors that Bruce had somehow crossed paths with Vandal Savage again. It was bordering on ridiculous, and a part of Tim wondered if this was why the legendary criminal stayed well away from Gotham waters. He was going to have to ask Bruce what was up with that after this whole mess was over.

“So,” Danny started, leaning closer to him. “Have any plans for when we’re back in modern day?”

Tim shrugged, “I see a lengthy report to Batman, hours spent explaining everything he missed while he was gone. I swear I’ll be up all week helping him catch up.”

A snort. “I meant about Robin. No offense, but you looked miserable in your new costume.”

He paused. He hadn’t quite processed the knowledge that bringing Bruce back wouldn’t also bring back his role as Robin. It was obvious whenever he actually thought about it, but to him Bruce coming home was still synonymous to going back to how things were before he was lost in time.

“I don’t know…Red Robin was just supposed to be temporary. It was one of Red Hood’s old aliases, not really mine.”

Danny turned to him. “Do you want a new one? If you decide now, we can lay the basis for some local legend to act as future inspiration for the new title.”

Tim elbowed him, “We aren’t messing with the timeline to establish lore for my new identity.”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun! I did it back in my original world, there’s ancient frescos of me winning chariot races and everything.”

“How are you and Clockwork still on speaking terms?”

“Oh, he totally finds it as funny as I do. He just has to pretend to be serious all the time so the Observants don’t crack down on him for shirking his duties.”

“You’re a bad influence on the embodiment of time,” Tim concluded with wide eyes.

A wide grin stretched across Danny’s face as he lied through his teeth. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“How did you even—he’s millennia older than you!”

“Counterparts, remember? It’s not a soul bond, but it’s easy to see ourselves in each other. Besides, time is relative; he's like a weird grandpa-uncle-cousin.”

Tim shook his head, but couldn’t quite force down the laughter in his lungs.

“Hey, I know for a fact I’m not the only bad influence here. No matter how much you claim that sleep is for the dead, I’m physical proof against that.”

“Whatever. You know when the next jump is?”

Danny tilted his head, as if listening for something only meant for his ears. “If Bats already came through here, there’s only two big timesinks left he could be in. Either sometime in the 20th century, or in a designated Vanishing Point.”

“Vanishing Point?”

“Yeah, it’s something of a collaboration between the Observants, Clockwork, and Ghost Writer. Each universe has an archive set right around its eventual heat death. It’s like an empty room in a video game with props the devs left in to keep the system running after inadvertently designing the whole code in reference to a lemon.”

“I…never mind. Why would Batman be there?”

“Oh, ‘cause he’s traveling through time without one of these,” Danny tapped Tim’s chest, right where his Time Medallion lay under his shirt. “They’re designed to safely disperse the energy gained each time we make a jump, among other things. Otherwise we’d just be building up enough to wipe the timeline from existence. Or something like that, I wasn’t really paying attention.”

Tim suddenly realized that this was what his former teammates meant when they complained about him executing strategies without explaining his thought process first. He still stood by his stance that it was more effective to explain things as they happened, but he was developing a new sense of empathy for them.

“Okay. Batman is a time-charged universe level bomb threat, and is getting funneled into the Backrooms so he blows up with everything else in existence. What can we do to stop that?”

Danny blinked. “Sorry, I thought it was obvious. I already carry a medallion with me wherever I go, so I was just gonna have you put the spare Clocky gave me on him to filter it out.”

Yep. This was karma for never giving people the full story behind any of his plans.

“I’m going to need you to go over everything we need to do when we get to this Vanishing Point. Twice.”

“Okie doke! So I’m gonna leave you with my spare medallion to help Bats while I throw down with Darkseid’s hyper-dimensional mind slave he sent after him to ensure his demise—”

Gift baskets. Tim owed so many people gift baskets for putting up with his bullshit.

— - —

When Tim found him, Danny was perched on the same apartment building they’d last met on.

His hood was down, freeing his flaming white hair to burn without heat in the night. His face was turned towards the sky, looking for all like he was somehow stargazing in spite of the thick smog that blanketed the city. It would’ve made for a stunning picture, if not for how soul crushingly lonely the scene felt.

Danny startled when Tim’s grappling hook latched onto the rooftop beside him. The halfa was quick to brighten upon seeing Tim down below, scooting over to make room for him as he reeled in the line and pulled himself up.

“Fancy meeting you here, Detective.”

Tim huffed, readjusting his utility belt. “The others won’t stop pestering me about how Batman was brought back when I shouldn’t have access to any time travel devices. It’s a miracle I was even able to get out of the Batcave without getting smothered.”

“You didn’t tell them about me?”

“You didn’t want them to know.”

Danny looked stunned. He physically shook himself out of it, a glowing green blush rising to his cheeks as he turned away. “Thanks.”

Tim absentmindedly nodded as he smoothly slipped a black marker from his belt while Danny was distracted. This had the potential to either go very smoothly or backfire completely, but it had to be done to sate his curiosity. Now that Bruce was home and he’d gotten the time to think over their conversations, pieces had started to align in his head. It was just a matter of taking the leap and confirming it for himself.

Reaching up to his own cheek, Tim wrote in practiced motions, focusing on the thought of sending it through to whoever was on the other side.

Danny jumped, hand slapping to his own cheek as he whipped his head around to stare at Tim in open shock. He shrugged sheepishly.

“Your description of soulmates was familiar. Between that and the cloak, I really should’ve put it together sooner.”

“You’re…not mad?”

Tim shifted, stashing the marker back in its rightful place. “I wish I knew sooner. I never meant to hurt you—Batman was getting on my case about the writing on my arms being recognizable in costume, and I never thought to wonder why it was happening in the first place.”

Danny shook his head, a wet chuckle escaping his lips. “You couldn’t have known. It would’ve freaked anyone out, getting messages from a different universe on their skin.”

“Neither did you. Know, I mean. Me blocking the connection was never on you.”

“Well…”

“I mean it.”

“Fine, fine. So…does that mean…?”

Tim carefully reached out his hands to grasp onto his soulmate’s, intertwining their fingers. It was remarkable how easily they fit together. “I don’t know if it’s romantic or not, but I’m willing to give it a try if you are.”

Danny collapsed forward into Tim’s arms. He could hardly make out the muffled affirmative, but the message was crystal clear. Leaning down to set his chin on the top of Danny’s head, he let himself savor this moment.

Tomorrow, he could beg Danny to experiment with the extent of their bond. They could talk about new ideas for his hero name, and Danny could get another shot at convincing him to go on a worldwide anti-multi-billionaire tour. The two of them had potentially forever to work out this newfound aspect of their relationship.

For the time being, Tim relaxed back against a chain link fence with his soulmate in his arms, the word ‘BOO’ scribbled in black marker across both their faces.

— - —

And that's a wrap! There's definitely room for more, but these were the all the scenes I wanted to cover ^-^

I think in this universe, Danny and Tim end up working as a slightly morally grey hero duo. They go global for a bit, Tim wanting to train under more people to better keep up with Danny (who follows along invisibly as backup). This eventually gets the attention of Ra's, and you can imagine how that goes XD

They're a bit overly attached; neither of them really have a healthy sense of boundaries, which causes a bit of conflict here and there. Tim is the one that insists on taking breaks to avoid becoming too codependent, which only really results in them deepening the soul bond to a ridiculous degree. Ironically it's during this that Tim discovers how he can send pressure marks through to Danny, who immediately converts it to morse code (oops).

Thanks for reading!

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