#the fucking lighting changes between shots i s Killing me

[elvisqueso]

Pocahontas (1995)

[sociopathicartist]

Breakfast Combo (sans one shot part 2)

“What did you plan on doing when you got up to the surface?” You looked at Sans, seeing his side profile clearly as he was busy staring up at the night sky.

Sans took a deep breath. “i didn’t think about it too much. when i was younger i wanted to come up here and get a nice house with papyrus. go back to college and get a higher degree, maybe become a professor.”

You raised an eyebrow, your gaze matching up with his when he looked over to you. “You? Sans, the laziest man I know, a professor?”

He laughed softly, his gloved hands moving to rest over his ribcage. “yeaaahhhh, i know. i guess things just changed.”

That was one way to sum up the long cycle of his dreams getting killed. The two of you stared at each other in comfortable silence for a few moments.

“Sans?”

“hmm?”

You paused for a minute, looking away from him and back to the night sky, the stars almost twinkling. “I don’t want things to change.”

Sans didn’t respond for a moment. He took a deep breath, ready to joke about how deep that was or make a stupid pun, but he stopped himself. Now wasn’t the right time. “really?”

“Really. Do you think it’s selfish of me to hope that things never change between us?”

Between the two of you.

Best friends, platonically, for the rest of your days, never wanting any more. That’s what you wanted, right?

You held back the urge to say something more. To finally put it out there.

“nah, s’ not selfish.” He trailed off, his voice getting a bit quieter. “i don’t want things to change either.”

You woke up.

The light was shining through the car window, small bumps from the road shaking the car a bit. You must have fallen asleep during the drive to the ski lodge.

Your lips curled down a bit at the dream. It was an old memory of you and Sans. You weren’t sure if he even remembered it himself, it was really long ago.

“honey, we’re here.” Stretch flicked you on the forehead, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You looked at him, yawning and stretching out with what room you could in the car. “Alright… I’m up.”

The snow was heavy and almost fluorescent white when you stepped out of the car after everyone else, wandering on back to see everyone grabbing their luggage as the wind beat against you, feeling like small needle pricks to your skin. Is Fell’s gym bag seriously shaped like a mustard packet?

“DO YOU NEED ANY HELP WITH-“

“I’VE GOT IT. GO AHEAD AND CHECK INTO THE LODGE, BLUE.” Papyrus quickly cut Blue off, grabbing your suitcase and handing it to you.

Blue meandered off with the rest of the crew, leaving you and Papyrus to trail behind with your things. You liked the one-on-one time with him.

“Thanks, Papyrus. You’re way stronger than I am.” You smiled at Papyrus, seeing that his gaze was focused on the path ahead of you.

“I DO NOT HAVE ANY MUSCLES, BUT THANK YOU, HUMAN.”

You laughed, finding it a bit endearing with how blunt he was. “I know you

don’t have any. Are you excited to ski?”

“YES!” Papyrus answered quickly, a proud look on his face when he glanced down at you. “THOSE SLIPPERY SLOPES WILL NOT EVEN THINK TO QUESTION WHO IS ABSOLUTELY SHREDDING THEM.”

Well, alright then. Both of you chatted until you got caught up with the group inside, seeing everyone making small bicker out in the common area.

“can’t believe we paid a fuck-ton for these rooms and we can’t even get to them with an elevator,” Fell complained, a bit of an annoyed expression as he glared at the carpeted stairs.

“YOU NEED THE EXTRA STEPS IN YOU, BIG BONES.” Blue jabbed, his tone a bit demeaning to Fell.

“where the fuck did that come from?”

“WASH YOUR MOUTH OUT WITH SOAP.”

Here they go again. You looked around your group, seeing Edge and Papyrus chatting away, and Stretch monitoring Blue and Fell’s little quarrel.

Where was Sans?

“wanna head upstairs?” His voice rang out, on cue with your thoughts.

You jumped, turning around to see Sans who had conveniently snuck behind you, his voice still ringing solid throughout your ears. “Yes. I’m not sure why we’re all standing in the middle of the common lounge.”

Sans adjusted his backpack on his shoulders, holding out his hand to you. “come on, you know you wanna grab it.”

You gave a quick glance to your friends, all of them occupied. They wouldn’t notice if you left for a bit if you and Sans left. You looked back at him, your hand reaching out to fold over his white mitten.

With a weird, sinking feeling that you had become familiar with, and a flash of black before the world around you faded back in, you were upstairs. The hallway merged into a balcony that overlooked the common room, your friends still down there conversing. You both started to make your way off the balcony and into the carpeted hallway.

“You got a room next to mine, right?” You asked, following after Sans as you walked down the hallway, glancing at the door numbers and some of the images hung on the wall.

“yep.” His voice echoed down the hallway. “you practically begged me to get one next to yours, remember?”

You frowned. You totally did do that. “I did not.”

“please please please get a room next to mine so that i’m not alone in the dark, scary ski lodge stuck next to some other random weirdos that i live with and i definitely don’t talk to every day.” He mocked you in a silly voice, his hands over each other to make a pleading sign. “i’ll be so sad and alone in my comfortable bed.”

You rolled your eyes, not listening to his over-dramatization of you. “The accuracy. It burns.”

“scary dark room.”

“Stop it.” You stopped outside the door to his room, slowly backing away to yours as he stared up at you.

“gonna come ski with me in a bit?” Sans asked you, cocking his head to the side a bit.

You pretended to ponder for a bit, already knowing what you’d say. “Not sure. You’ll push me down into the snow.”

Sans scoffed, shaking his skull ‘no’. “i would never do that to you… probably.”

“I’m going to get changed into proper clothes for skiing.” You opened up the door to your room, dragging your suitcase behind you. “I’ll come ski with you in a bit.”

“time waits for snowmen-“

You closed your door, silencing his words before he could finish the punchline for his joke. Successfully cut off.

The room you were staying in was way nicer than the one at the hotel, your eyes scanning over everything as you set your suitcase on your bed, unpacking the clothes you needed. The mere thought of getting to stay in this ski lodge for an entire week with your friends was exciting. All of you needed a vacation.

Your phone buzzed and you took it out of your pocket, looking down to see the text message.

tall skeleton #1 - WHERE DID YOU GO?

Ah. You should probably get ready then.

“For the last time Edge, the ski-lift will not fall.” You tried your best to console your friend, pulling him to sit down on the ski-life as it lifted the both of you into the air.

He gripped onto the sidebars, worried the seat would fall down and off the line. “THIS IS A HORRIBLE WAY OF GETTING BACK UP. WHY COULDN’T HAVE WE JUST WALKED?”

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a look. “Go on, try walking next time. See how well that goes for you.”

When you hopped off the lift, you held out your hand for him to grab. It was a bit funny seeing him so worried about something considering how bold and confident he was. “WE SHOULD GO SKI DOWN AGAIN, THAT WAS FUN.”

You shook your head and stretched out a bit. “Thanks, but I’m gonna take a break for a bit. My legs hurt, I’ll catch up with you later.”

Edge shook his head and scoffed. “IMAGINE.”

Stupid skeletons and their lack of muscles.

You slowly made your way back inside the lodge, the waves of laughter from outside dying out to almost nothing but the crackles of the warm fireplace. You had been out skiing for a long while already, and the sky outside was turning to dusk. You didn’t plan on going back out and skiing again tonight, instead wanting to relax and soothe your muscles. You shuffled your way back up to your room, not wasting any time to change into some pyjamas. You walked over to your window to peek outside, wanting to check out the nighttime snowy view.

Was someone in the hot tub?

You leaned a bit closer to the glass, trying to see who the hell was out here when it was this cold outside and was almost pitch black.

Oh my god.

You scurried out of your room, down the hall and stairs, and rushed out of the lodge, coming to a stop when you finally reached your way up to the hot tub. He was sitting in there, relaxing with his eye sockets closed. You stood with your feet by the water, standing on the damp concrete border.

“Sans? What are you doing out here?”

Sans opened his eye-sockets, looking up to you. He had the same permanent grin, but his expression looked a bit different. “jus’ felt like sitting in the hot water. there a problem?”

You shook your head. Why did you feel nervous all of a sudden? It was just Sans. “No… No problem.”

“you didn’t ski with me.” Sans remarked, calling you out. “i thought you wanted to hang out with me?”

You pursed your lips, slowly crouching down. “I mean, we have the whole week.”

He tilted his head a bit to the side. “i was worried you’d get cold or hurt. you got all these squishy warm bits to you.”

“That was an extremely weird way of phrasing that.” You looked down at the water, watching it bubble up from the little jacuzzi blowers. You slowly dipped your legs in the water, going to sit down on the smooth ledge, getting your pyjamas all wet.

“I’m sorry. I was in a bit of a funk and everyone else kept grabbing me to ski with them.” You apologized, feeling a bit guilty for skimming out on him.

Sans watched as you got in the hot tub, tilting his skull to the side in slight confusion. “water you hoppin’ in for?”

You shrugged, swaying your feet against the grind of the bubbles. “It’s warmer in here, and my legs hurt bad from skiing all day. I want to sit down.”

Sans snorted. “pfft. imagine.”

“All of you have said that same thing to me today but in different forms.” It was almost like you were being made fun of for being a human, which was an odd reversal.

“well, we are the same people in different fonts, so i’m not surprised.” He shrugged, swirling his hand around in the water.

You didn’t answer, staring at him in silence. It was dark outside now, and the blue light from the hot tub was illuminating him from the bottom angle. You felt a weird twinge the longer that you looked at him. He looked different right now for some reason. He looked extremely attractive.

You nudged yourself to slide closer to him, sitting up next to him with your arms touching. Sans glanced over at you, taking a moment or two to think over his words.

“that letter you wrote for me a while back,” Sans started, his voice a bit quieter than usual. “i still uh, have it. i read it sometimes when i’m not feeling well.”

“Really?” You asked. “That was a few years ago. I didn’t think you still had it.”

Sans shrugged again, a few water droplets rolling off his shoulder blades. “i dunno. i didn’t bring it up back then when you gave it to me. i really should have, i wish i had. nobody- nobody ever…”

He paused. Nobody had ever treated him like you did, let alone give him a heartfelt letter that he re-reads a lot more than he’d like to admit. Nobody ever paid close attention to him. Not until you.

“you just… i know i’m not good at sentimental stuff, but you’re the best friend i’ve ever had.” He stared down at the water, watching it bubble and swirl around.

God, it was really cold outside.

You smiled softly, reaching your hand under the water to grab onto his, your fingers tightly intertwining with his phalanges. “I’m really happy I met you, Sans.”

He finally stopped avoiding your gaze, looking at you with wide and wobbly pinpricks. “yeah?”

“Yeah…” You felt a weird swirl in your stomach again.

Say it.

Say something before the moment gets ruined so that you won’t linger in regret when your time passes. Regret that you never said anything. Regret when he finds someone else.

You dragged his hand off to his side, still holding onto it tightly as you scooted up, sliding yourself onto his lap to face him.

Sans faltered, his expression going from relaxed and content to shocked. “whoa buddy- you’re awful, uh, close there.”

“Am I?” You stared down at him, a small smile on your face. “I didn’t notice. Maybe this hot tub is too small for us.”

“yeah,” Sans snorted, looking away for a few seconds before looking back to you, his freehand going to wrap around your waist to pull you in closer. “not my fault i’m big-boned, hehe.”

“Maybe it’s time to lay off on the ketchup.” You laughed, the mood between you two becoming comfortable again.

Sans stared up at you in silence, the area under his eye sockets tinted a light blue that was barely noticeable unless you were close like you were to him. “there really isn’t anyone like you, y/n.”

The small space between you two closed off, your lips pressing against his teeth.

It was uh… a unique experience, that's for sure. You weren’t expecting a normal kiss considering the fact that he literally had no lips at all, and his smile never moved or faltered unless he got hurt, but instead, a nice, almost tingly feeling rushed through you. It was good. It was kind of intoxicating.

You had to pull away first, the kiss being held for so long that you were almost convinced he was not going to pull away at all.

“Check it, now you can tell all your friends at work that you finally got some action.” You joked.

Sans’ gaze on you was loving, and he didn’t respond for a little bit. “uh, yeah. hehe.”

You cocked your head to the side a bit, not sure if he understood what you just said. “Hanging in there okay?”

He nodded, letting go of your hand so that he could trace his phalanges along your jawline before resting to cup the side of your face. “yeah, just thinking. we have the whole week here left. when are we gonna tell everyone?”

“Tell everyone?” You paused, not realizing the repercussions of the situation. “We should probably wait until we get home. I don’t want them to get any weird ideas while we are all out skiing.”

“that’s probably a good idea.” He leaned in again, giving you another quick kiss. “so… we’re a thing? what do you humans call it? datemates?”

“So close. That’s what you guys call it, but good try.” You leaned into his hand, finding it to be a bit warm for some reason. “But yes. Datemates is nice.”

Sans chuckled, finding it a bit odd at how you leaned into his hand. He had never done this before with anyone. “cool.”

You both sat there in each other's arms for a while, talking and giggling over random things with several kisses in between words, some for the moment, others to make up for how long you went without being able to give that sort of affection. The problem of telling everyone else would wait for later. Both of you were happy right now.

Hello! Sorry it took so long to come out, but tysm for reading!!!

[sleepiexx]

The Afterparty

Leon S. Kennedy x fem!Reader

Summary: Leon visits his best friend who he’s pining over late at night, she greets him with open arms and slurred laments of love

Warnings: mentions of alcohol use, reader is drunk throughout the story, Leon is a chronic overuser of the word “sweetheart”

Word count: 1376

(Y/N) had given Leon the spare key to her house so that he could help out in case of an emergency. That was the official reason between the two, of course, but (Y/N) didn’t mind him popping in whenever, she told him as much. Yet still, at 3:23 am, coming over to her’s directly after a long mission, Leon felt like a creep.

She’d told him a million times how she may as well be nocturnal and that him stopping by at odd hours of the night unannounced was no problem, but that did nothing to quell the awkwardness Leon felt stepping into his friend’s house.

He couldn’t tell whether or not she was awake. From the foyer he could tell that lights were on in the house, but none looked like the overhead. Just some mood lighting she had set to purple.

“If you’re here to kill me, come back when I’m sober so I can enjoy it!” She yelled. So she had heard him coming in.

He followed the noise to her living room where she sat, back facing Leon in a strappy backless dress. It was one of the dresses she frequently wore when she went out; specifically Leon’s favorite, not that she knew that. He walked up behind her, cautious and quiet so he could go undetected.

“Not here to kill you sweetheart,” he hummed into her ear, anxiousness traded for amusement.

She screamed and fell forward, off the couch, scrambling to turn around and see who it was, quickly realizing it was just Leon.

“Leon!! You fucking creeper.” She pouted, throwing a pillow at him as he laughed at her fright.

She stood up and stumbled over to him. Leon took note that she still had her strappy heels on so either she just got back, or she was really trashed. He hoped it was the latter as he wasn’t too fond of the idea of her coming home late at night on her own, likely intoxicated. She shoved her face into his chest and wrapped her arms around him.

“I missed you so much, it should be illegal for you to be gone that long.” She slurred, nuzzling further into his chest.

Definitely trashed.

(Y/N) was an incredibly emotional and touchy drunk. A few shots and she wanted three things, world peace, to tell everyone she knew that she loved them, and to snuggle up with the nearest person, which most of the time ended up being Leon.

She pulled away, hands still wrapped around his biceps; or at least trying to, lord knows what a feat it would be to wrap one hand around his entire bicep. Her eyes ran over his face, seemingly looking for something. Leon had no clue what.

“Are you hurt? You didn’t get hurt did you?” She worried aloud.

He smiled softly and shook his head, muttering a “nope.”

She nodded very seriously, “good because you can’t get hurt. That would be very bad. I love you too much.”

“I’m sure you do sweetheart,” he chuckled, pushing her back down to the couch.

“I’m serious! You’re my best friend, and- and you mean so much to me. I don’t know what I’d do if you-”

Leon cut her off, trying to redirect her attention. If she kept going, she’d talk herself to tears about how upset she’d be if Leon died, and he wasn’t too fond of seeing her cry.

“I know, I know sweetheart. I love you too, now why don’t we watch a movie or something?”

“Only if we can cuddle,”

“I think we should both get changed before that.” He said, gesturing at his field attire and her clubbing dress; eyes looking her up and down before staring at her feet, “why are you still wearing your shoes?”

“I couldn’t figure out how to get them off. Straps are hard,” she frowned.

He nodded in agreement, sitting on the couch at her feet and patting his thigh, “Yea they are. Let me do it.”

She laid her legs across his lap where he’d been patting and watched as he carefully undid the straps. She sat up muttering, “You’re so pretty Leon, do people tell you how pretty you are?”

“Just you.”

“Well more people should tell you because you’re such a handsome man.” She coo’d, squishing his cheeks.

He shook his head. As he finished with her shoes, he grabbed them in one hand, helping (Y/N) up with the other.

“C’mon, princess, let’s get changed.”

“Hehehe ‘princess,’ you’re so sweet Leon, how do you not have a girlfriend yet?” (Y/N) giggled.

‘Probably because I’m hopelessly in love with my best friend,’ Leon thought to himself, he wouldn’t actually admit that though, not now at least.

“Not a lot of girls want to date a guy who’s always gone for work.” He said instead.

(Y/N) frowned at that, “But you’re so worth it, Leon. Other girls are crazy, I’d date you.”

Leon blushed slightly at the thought but denied it nonetheless, the slur of her words still too strong to take anything she said seriously. “You’re drunk, sweetheart, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Drunk words are sober thoughts,”

Leon shook his head, “C’mon now, we gotta change.” He said, walking into her room and toward the dresser, placing her shoes right beside it in a place she wouldn’t trip. “Do you still have the sweatpants and tee shirt you stole from me?”

“You mean the ones you left here for sleepovers?”

“Sure,” he replied.

She grinned, going up to the dresser herself and digging through one of the drawers, pulling out and presenting Leon with his clothes. “Yes, I do.”

Leon took them from her and went to the guest bathroom to change, leaving her to do the same. As he stepped out of the bathroom he heard his name being called.

“Leon!”

“Yes, sweetheart?” He called back, standing outside her bedroom door.

“I need help,” she whined.

“Can I come in?”

“Mhm”

He opened the door, revealing (Y/N) stuck halfway in her dress.

“There’s stupid straps on this stupid dress too.”

Leon laughed hard at the way she was stuck awkwardly between the straps.

“Hey, don’t laugh at me! You’re being mean.” She frowned.

He faked some pity for her, “aw I’m sorry (Y/N), let me help you.”

She beamed at him, lifting her arms so he could pull the dress up from the bottom, definitely not the way it was supposed to be taken off. No wonder she got stuck.

“Turn around.”

“Why?” She asked, still not following.

“So I can reach the back straps, and so that you don’t flash your tits at me.”

She closed her eyes and turned up her nose, turning around nonetheless. “They’d be the best pair of tits you ever saw,” she snarked.

He shook his head at her antics and undid the straps. Carefully, he slipped the dress down off of her.

“Arms up,” he muttered.

As she followed his command, he slipped the oversized tee shirt she had onto her.

“I trust that you can put your shorts on yourself?”

She nodded, not caring at all that Leon was still there as he’d likely already just seen whatever there was to see from the back and slipping on her shorts. She spun around quickly.

“Can we watch a movie and cuddle now?”

“Yes we can watch a movie and cuddle now,”

(Y/N) smiled and slid into her bed, lifting one side of the covers and patting it as an invitation for Leon to come sit next to her. He did as she gestured and she instantly snuggled into his side.

Grabbing the remote to turn on the tv, he asked, “What movie are we watching?”

She shook her head, “I dunno, just pick something.”

He nodded, turning on the first movie that looked good. He knew it would end up just being background noise.

(Y/N) yawned quietly and Leon turned to her, seeing her eyes fighting to stay open.

“You tired?”

She nodded, finally closing her eyes. Just before her breathing steadied she murmured a quiet, “I love you, Leon.”

He smiled, holding her tighter. “I love you too sweetheart.”

[queeoretician]

Thank you for saying this! I feel like the reading OP puts forward (a fairly common reading of John) misses a lot about the story, in a way that I find hard to make sense of.

It's absolutely true that the situation John was put in was a fucked up one. It's absolutely true that power has a corrupting influence on people. And there are definitely some wild bad-faith takes on his actions out there (cow wall discourse, I'm looking at you). But saying that it would require an unrealistically virtuous person to make better decisions in his place just seems flatly incorrect to me.

Let me state my position explicitly here: I do not believe that most human beings, put in John's situation, would choose to kill literally all life in the solar system to pursue vengeance against the trillionaires. His choice to destroy the world for vengeance was a choice, and one that other people in the narrative were begging him not to make.

There's a really haunting parallel between the NtN apocalypse scene (p. 310):

N— was all, It’s not going to work. This is going to end with the ships launching and G— getting shot, and you’re going to kill millions of people for nothing. We followed you to save the world. I said, We’re doing that. This is how we save the world. Believe me. C— said, John, your problem is that you care less about being a saviour than you do about meting out punishment. I said, C—, I was just your best man! C— said, You still are. That doesn’t change the fact that you can be quite the most appallingly vindictive person I have ever met.

and the HtN funeral scene (p. 94):

“[…] I never saw her cry except once,” she added in a pointless rush. “The day after. When we put together the research. When she became a Lyctor. I said, There was no alternative. She said…” [...] She cleared her throat: “She said, We had the choice to stop.”

In both cases, the text deliberately draws our attention to the fact that what happened was the result of choices these people made, and that they could reasonably have chosen otherwise. And our story is about the millennia-long consequences of those choices.

I also think that the John-was-doing-his-best reading fails to engage with the role that patriarchy plays in the story.

Given the pervasive misogyny displayed towards Mercymorn in HtN, I really don't think it's fair to give John credit for M—'s insistence on reproductive justice in the cryo project.

More significantly (and unpleasantly), a major thread through HtN and NtN is of John (metaphorically) grooming/sexually abusing Harrow and Alecto. Better meta-writers than me have discussed this at length (familyabolisher here; sophelstein here and here; CW rape & incest on all those links), but for our purposes it's sufficient to say that John calling Alecto "Annabel Lee" is a reference to Lolita, and one that tazmuir (herself a child sexual abuse survivor) has also made in her pre-TLT writing.

This paints the idea of John loving the earth/Alecto in a much darker light, and reinforces the parallels between John's post-Resurrection colonial project and real-world colonialism's imposition of patriarchal social structures (mentioned around the 10 minute mark of this Philosophy Tube video). It's not that it's easy to villainise John because he's a man - him being a man is intrinsically tied up in the harm that he does to our (overwhelmingly female) cast.

Aside: I don't have any good theories about why tazmuir chose for her sexual-abuser villain to be Māori, and I'm a little uncomfortable with this choice as it stands, but that doesn't make his actions within the story any more excusable.

So to sum up: John made extremely harmful choices even when people around him asked him to choose differently, and he is intertextually positioned as the perpetrator of patriarchal violence. Based on this, I don't find OP's reading (that anyone else in John's situation would have done just as much harm) to be credible.

(As rotationalsymmetry said above, I don't want this to be taken as an attack on or moral judgment of people who subscribe to John-sympathetic readings of the series. For me, a big part of the horror of NtN was the realisation that this character who had been built up as sympathetic was lying about a bunch of stuff all along. But I do think that these readings are substantively incorrect, and that they do a disservice to tazmuir's phenomenal writing, particularly around narrator unreliability.)

I think what bothers me most about how John is talked about in the fandom is the implication that a different (implied: better) person would've done things differently and somehow more right than he did.

When the text goes to lengths to explore how suddenly coming into an incredible amount of power in a fatally constrained situation cannot lead to a good outcome.

If you're putting John in dialogue with the concept of the "magical girl", which Muir has said he is (a little tongue in cheek, but)--these are young, often profoundly unready people, who often get taken advantage of by the people who give them their powers. And like, yes, John is not a teenager, but I think that's part of the point, is that at no point is a person really prepared to become as powerful as he did--even before he merged with Alecto. Even when he was fully in control of his powers, even when they were given with honest intent and trust, even when he used them with the best of intentions and tried to do the right thing, there was no way for him to be prepared, especially given the situation he was in.

And it's funny to talk about how bad John must be in bed, but also, this isn't a scenario where John is some self-deluding Elon Musk-like villain or loser. He is genuinely trying to do the right thing, in terms of rescuing the Earth's population, rescuing the Earth Herself, and doing it ethically (see: M--'s insistence that they perfect the cryo containers until they could transport pregnant women).

I really do think this is something people are blocking out, because it is one of the uncomfortable parts of Muir's message with the series. But ESPECIALLY because the people "critiquing" him as an embodiment of patriarchy and empire are failing to see that part of Muir's critique is of human vulnerability to power: That is, that power corrupts.

And this even has echoes with Gideon & Harrow's story! Harrow begins the series in a deeply unequal dynamic with Gideon! And she does horrible things, not just because she is traumatized, but because she is traumatized and has the power to act her desires out on Gideon. She might have the motive (trauma), but that's not enough without the means (power).

And, yeah, I do have a semi-salty angle on this because people are frequently loath to think critically not just about axes of oppression but individual relationships of power when it applies to them and to people they like. ESPECIALLY when there is a very vocal segment of the fandom that is enthusiastically pro-harassment. It's very convenient to villainize John and actively dis-identify with him, because otherwise, you'd have to face the question of whether you'd do any better in his place. But the thing is, the mission of revenge he embarks on is a lot closer to many peoples' hearts than they'd like to consider.

That's the whole point.

[ddonovanrp]

I walked across the well manicured lawn of Crescent Hill Cemetery, making my way to you. It's the 26th now, I'm 6 whole days late for your birthday. I made it to the headstone and looked around the area. I couldn't bring myself to read the inscriptions in that concrete slab. I knew what it said, the name, dates, quote and all was burned into my memory; right along with events that wound you up here. It was the very first 'worst day of my life'.

I knelt down, a bright red single rose dangled from my hand. "Hi mom.." I said into the night like you were actually there. "..it's me." I continued talking to your grave. I stared at the smooth cool stone and sighed. You weren't here. You'd been gone for nearly 20 years now.

"I miss you." I said to the earth. The image of us standing on the front porch of home came into my mind. You were wearing a yellow sun dress that had little flowers all over it. Your hair was still dark, despite the gray stands decorating the sides. Your eyes still just as dark as always; a image of me looking back. I was your first child. The only boy and your baby. I could hear the thuds of my boots cross the deck as we walked to your favorite swing and sat down to gossip about the latest. You were holding my hand and watching me like you were so proud as I told you the news. You were going to be a grandma again. My girlfriend is pregnant and you cried. You would have met her by then. And I know you would have loved her just as much as I do.

I smiled to myself as I pictured the transaction. Following up with a sucker punch to the gut as my gaze flicked to the end date. That date was like a dagger in my chest still after so long. My eyes moved to the little dash that separated those two dates. A dash that represents life, but that dash just wasn't long enough. You'd missed out on everything. I was 8, Harper was only 2 when we lost you. Our whole lives changed that day and a part of me died with you.

I laid the rose on top of the headstone and sighed. "Happy Birthday Momma. I'm sorry I'm late." I said to your grave, misery lacing my voice. The day i lost you, I lost a big part of myself. The happy go- lucky child that was your son dissapeared that night. I was the poor kid whose momma got shot by thugs. Trashy bikers looking to settle a score. A deal gone wrong that had gotten us all in the crossfire with one fatal mistake. I watched as the lights went out of your eyes that night. You'd told me to hide but I was scared. Too scared to run, i knew I'd get caught- there were just too many of them. They'd raided the club house and was demolishing everything. I'd hid under the bed, it was low enough to the ground it wasn't suspicious and I was just barely small enough to fit. I remember covering my nose and mouth trying my hardest not to make a sound. I remember them kicking the door in and how you screamed at them to get out. The smack that echoed in my head from where he hit you across the face still echos in my head. The gunshot still rings in my ears and the look in your eyes as you hit the ground, looking around franticly trying to locate me before our eyes collided and You'd done your best to smile, reassuring me it was okay. Blood trickled out of the corner of your mouth and you were gone. Just like that.

I watched as you left me through tears that hadn't spilled yet. Heavy black boots walked in between us blocking my view, "fuck you idiot. That was their president's ol lady. You better hope they get ahold of Dexton or you're dead." He chuckled. The son of a bitch laughed as they walked out of the room leaving us there. My dad. This was his fault. He was the president of this club, he'd started this war. He'd gotten you killed. 'I'll never forgive him' I silently swore, those tears finally falling as I started into the face of my mother, dead.

Sighing I kissed my finger tips and pressed it to the top of your stone. I was 28 now-a grown man. You'd think it would have gotten easier, i thought to myself before in shoved my hands into my front pockets and stepped back. It was nearly 5 am and I'd been gone on a run for about 2 days longer than I'd meant to be. The girl I'd accidentally fallin in love with has expected me home Thursday afternoon and here it was Saturday morning. Plans changed last minute when we ran into some trouble in Alabama. The crew we'd fucked up in Nevada apparently had friends we didn't know about.

I tucked my head down into my jacket, trying to keep my neck and ears warm as I walked across the Graveyard headed back to the gate. I had about 30 more minutes ride until I was at the apartment i'd decided to rent for now. My son was back from his grandmother's and I was now expecting another baby! I needed a place of my own until we were ready to buy. Hopefully she'd be there, sleeping in my full size bed, knowing I'd be there soon. I swung my leg over the once again cold leather seat and started the engine.  ---------------------------------------- -> 9.26.2020 -> #Damian #Momma

[thecameronchronicles]

Minx

TW: Smut. Language. Degrading Language. 

SUMMARY: A night of teasing leads to a rather thorough lesson Rafe has planned for you…

WORD COUNT: 1840

*REQUESTED*

Anonymous asked:

Hi! Can you write something where Rafe and reader are dating and they go to a party, reader teases him all night in front of their friends and Rafe finally has had enough so he takes her to the bathroom and is like really rough, this is lowkey embarrassing to type lol but you're great at writing so i thought you would be perfect at writing this!

*IT”S REQUESTS LIKE THIS THAT MAKE ME SO ANNOYED! NOBODY SHOULD FEEL ASHAMED OF THEIR KINKS! LIFE FUCKS ALL OF US, MIGHT AS WELL ENJOY IT WHILE WE CAN ;) 

Minx

You wore it because it was his favorite. Tight silk clutched at every curve that held his fingerprints well into your skin. Thin fabric leaving every breath and beat of your heart noticeable beneath its coal hue accented by the diamond embellishment leaving the light to become captured in the star-like illusion. And finally, the slit allowing him accessibility whenever he desired, whether it would be five minutes from now or at five that next morning, you were willing to reveal yourself to him whenever he pleased. And this was because Rafe wasn't selfish. Not when it came to you. At least, not with sex. But it was an activity he felt he deserved and earned on his own merit. For that, he didn't want to bring you to that edge before the eyes of other guys or even other girls. He wanted this reserved for him. But you loved pulling him to that line of desperation. And in this dress, it left him feeling a very specific type of way. 

"Jesus, are you trying to kill me, sweetheart?" 

"That depends..." 

"On?" He raised a brie, completely amused by your feisty coquettish banter as you batter your lashes and chewed playfully on the edge of your plastic cup. 

"If its from suffocation..." His expression twisted in confusion, "Between my breasts..." You trailed your fingers over your clavicle before sending them to your hip, "Between my legs..." 

"Baby-" He warned as you realized as deeply as you needed him to fill you to that satisfactory numbness he always left you in, you craved this mire. His reactions. That warning. The lack of your obedience that made him shift in such a way that you knew how badly he wanted you and what it meant for you once he would get you alone. For that, you would push him. Every single button. 

"Then yes, I want to drown you between my legs...you could right now." He swallowed hard behind clenched teeth, your wrist escaping in the nick of time before he would be forced to watch you disappear into the near crowd. You offered one final look of mischief before joining Sarah at the kitchen island serving as a bar as his steps were slow but firm as he struck up a conversation with Topper and Kelce. 

"You HAVE to let us do body shots! You're the hottest girl here!" Kelce urged as Rafe gave a look of rejection. Even if he wasn't domineering over your dress, as you wouldn't obey him even if he tried, his look was still weighed in enough dominance that you would reject. With a smile of approval, he returned to his rest upon the wall as this responsibility for entertainment would change to some other girl. 

"Shit..." You groaned, the juice of your lime having shot down your cleavage as his eyes remained to you. Lifting your gaze to him as if to warn him with the pull of your smile, he would shake his head, well aware that every move you made was a game to you. 

Drawing the liquid to your lips, a single drop taken to your mouth, and you savored this by closing your eyes and moaning to its taste. If not for how beautiful you were doing it, he would have been angered. But when that smile widened across your face, he was only angry at how hard you made him. 

"Dance with me!" Sarah pulled you to the floor as he was forced to watch you sway and grind on a multitude of guests. Staying mainly to those more feminine as to not get him upset, you would eventually allow Topper to be a momentary partner as he was oblivious to Rafe's glare. 

"Stop. It. Now." He mouthed as you would only move closer against Topper, his hands cautious on your hips as everyone knew you belonged to Rafe in every context, but still tight enough to guide you to the beat of the remixed radio hit. 

Tired and breathless, you would now join Rafe on the couch before wrapping yourself around his arm. Even though he tensed in annoyance to your continuous need to torment him, he needed your touch more than his grudge and so he kept from moving away from you. 

"Rafe?" You questioned as he pulled himself into a rest against the back of the couch, your body remaining on the edge as you looked back towards him. 

"I think Topper is going to be really mad..." 

"Why?" 

You leaned closer to him, hand pressed as close to his dick as possible without actually making contact. 

"I'm staining his couch with all the ways I'm imagining you fucking me right now...all because I forgot my panties..." You feigned innocence by biting your bottom lip as he would scoff. 

"Let’s go..." He muttered while pulling you away from the group and down the corridor leading to a series of rooms, most occupied by other couples. A line outside of one of the bathrooms would act as a beckoning to him as the door happened to open as you passed, him pulling you inside as you were cursed at. Giving a look of intimidation to the foolish peer that tried to rival him, he returned his focus to you as he slammed the door closed. 

"Show me. Take off that fucking dress and show me how much of a whore you are tonight..." You kept your eyes to him, pulling the zipper into its descent and revealing you were completely nude beneath that fabric. 

"You just gonna stare at me Rafe?" You teased, moving towards the vanity on the left side of the bathroom, "Or are you gonna bend me over this sink and fuck me?" You asked, pulling yourself to that angle he would need you at, before looking at him in the mirror. 

"And giving you what you want? What does that teach you?" 

"Please Rafe..." 

He stood behind you, his foot kicking apart your stance before he pulled back again. 

"Do you turn yourself on acting like a slut? Dripping down your own thighs...The echo of your pleas coming back to you?" He asked, standing at your back but not touching you, knowing his words affected you all the same. Relaizing he wouldn't aid your need for him, you began to reach for your sex with one hand and your breast toanother, but his hands would apprehend you immediately. 

"You don't get to act like that and feel the reward. I had to behave myself...so I'm expecting the same from you-" 

"Please Rafe, I'm sorry. I won't do it again..." 

He scoffed, one wrist holding your small ones with one grasp as the other came wrapped around your throat. 

"Don't fucking lie to me, sweetheart. I know you get off on it...." His knee came between your legs, stationed at your sopping lower lips. 

"Ride my thigh." 

"I want your cock, Rafe-" 

"This is what you get. Take it or-" You began to move, gracious he was allowing you anything at all, before you would feel him purposely tense his muscles. 

"Good girl...getting it nice and wet for me..." Your eyes rolled as this hinted to a release he was planning to offer you. 

"I need you drenched, sweetheart. That way I can be as rough as I want-" 

"You can anyway..." You whined as he pulled your hair tighter. 

"Shit, you really are desperate for it, aren't you?" 

"Always..." You moaned as he smirked before shaking his head. 

"Come on, man, you can fuck her anywhere else! Some of us need to take a piss!" Someone called from the other side of the door as Rafe turned to face the banging caused by impatient patrons. 

"You want to come?" 

You nodded, desperately, unaware how that very impatience of both you and the nameless stranger outside had given him an idea. 

"Then I want you to do it loud enough so they all know how much my cock does for you. I want them to know how good it feels, how deep it is...I want them to know every dirty thought it gives you. Make me happy with thay and I'll let you come, fuck, I'll make you squirt if you please me-" 

"I wanna please you...." 

"Then start screaming for me baby..." You didn't notice how he had undressed until his cock was suddenly in a plummet inside of you. The rough penetration and depth of each insertion making him bottom put had made you silent as your body froze to the sensations. 

"I thought you said you wanted to come-" 

"I do!" 

"Then let them fucking hear you!" He scolded as you cried out for him. 

"Fuck, Rafe! You're so fucking good! So big! Please don't stop!" 

"Why shouldn't I? Just a whore needing any dick-" 

"No! Yours! I need YOUR dick!" 

"You wanna come all over it, don't you baby? Make it even easier to slip in and out of you?" 

"Oh, God, Yes!" You spoke through clenched teeth as he grinned. 

"Then fucking do it." 

"I thought you said-" 

"Do it before I change my fucking mind!" 

"Ahh! Rafe!!!!" He kept his grip behind your back as you trembled between him and the sink. 

"Look at yourself. So goddamn desperate. Tell me what you are.-" 

"A whore-" He slapped your ass. 

"Who's?" 

"Yours..." 

"Tell them, not me-" 

"I'm Rafe's whore!" 

"Fuck, that's right!" He quickened behind you, releasing your hands and seeing one palm to the surface before you and the other came to a rest in a fistful of your hair. 

"Play with 'em....play with your tits for me-" 

"Oh God!" You obeyed. 

"Here..." He paused, pulling your mutual slick over the nipples, a gasp fading into moans and an eventual plea left your mouth. 

"Rafe, I'm gonna come!" 

"I'm right there, baby...give it to me! Come on! Like that! Just like that!" 

"Rafe!" 

"Again!" He smacked your ass. 

"RAFE!" 

"Tell me...tell me what you want-" 

"I want you to come!" 

"Where?" 

"Anywhere!" He pulled your hair tighter. 

"Tell me!" 

"Inside me! I want you to come inside me!" 

"Then take it!" He groaned before the tightness of his balls found relief in the splurge of his seed. 

"Oh fuck..." You groaned as he turned you to face him. 

"You put that dress on. Walk to my truck and get in the back. Legs wide, but don't even think about touching anything that's mine!" 

"I-" 

He took your jaw until you faced him. 

"I'm gonna eat you out until you can't walk around with that entitled little attitude. Then...I'm gonna make sure I fuck it out of you." He pushed pushed towards the door, a slap to your ass turning you to him. 

"You don't want to do it now?" 

"You gave them a show...they don't get to hear what you do to me."

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae

[uncouth-the-fifth]

imagine damian and the reader at the wayne gala. he gets jealous when he sees her flirting with someone else. he ends up pulling her into a bathroom and fucking her in front of a mirror while saying that other person can’t treat her like he does

and that’s how the reader finds out damian has feelings for her. all this time he acted like he hates her because he’s in denial

Title: More Than They Ever Said

Paring: Robin!Damian (18+) / Canary!Reader

Tags/Warnings: semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, bathroom sex, slight underage drinking (reader is like 20 lol), mentions of golf.

Word Count: 7150

Notes: sooooo.... this def evolved beyond a drabble lol. the way gala sex kills me every time 😭 I was a little mushy w Dami here bc I miss his sweet side. This also sounded a lot like goldenspecs12's request from Wattpad, so I hope you don't mind that I meshed the two together 😚 I leaned toward Damian liking the reader more than being in denial, but that’s the only thing I sacrificed between the two requests. This one is my fluffiest and most romantic yet 💖

"can I request Damian w a Queen reader, like she's Oliver and Dinah's child? say the reader is a hero but not very active, like she comes in when her parents can't. so when she and Damian meet, they hit it off. The main request is that they sneak away at a gala held by Oliver and the reader and Damian have sex."

Ask to be added to my taglist for future posts!

The party was more fun than you thought it would be.

Benefits were usually chalk-full of old, wealthy people that thought they made good conversationalists. The board members of Queen Industries were tired of Oliver trying to escape their claws, so you’d been recruited in his place. While your dad got to play minigolf in the penthouse’s massive party floor, you were confined to the lounge, playing up what an intelligent, capable business partner you’d be when you were CEO. Fellow businessmen gruffed about their plans with you while their wives cooed and drank, pinching your cheeks.

You thought that you’d hate it, but the attention and the praise was nice. It made you feel like you were helping your dad and your family’s company, which was constantly criticized and judged for it’s choice in CEO. Everyone called your father a lazy silver-spooned idiot, but he was one of the only men in Star City who actually cared. By the time you had Q.I’s biggest donors laughing out of their seats, Dinah’s hands slipped over your shoulders and you were kissed on the side of the face. Thank you, she mouthed, and your position as family support-beam was covered.

Since most of the benefit-goers were at least forty years your senior, you gravitated to your dad. From the penthouse’s upper balcony, you could see his friends circling around the tiny green mats they were using as a makeshift golf course. Usually, Ollie made sure his public persona’s aim was as garbage as his taste in drink was. But tonight, he played as Green Arrow, who never missed. Not once. Especially when it came to Bruce Wayne, who’s golf game was abysmal at best.

But like Oliver, Bruce was a new man tonight. It looked like he was ready to break out the batarangs any minute now. The two men were barely civil about the viciousness of their competition, and if the view of the game from the balcony was interesting, then from below it must’ve been the greatest show of fragile masculinity ever displayed. You had to make fun of them.

The only opening in the circle of men, who all had their hands on their chins as Bruce lined up his next shot, was by the floor-to-ceiling windows to one side of the game. Just one man stood there, hands in his pockets. You slid next to him, unbothered, and squinted at the game.

Everyone in the crowd was dead silent. Bruce was lining up his golf ball so it would roll into a mug a couple of feet away, so you helpfully provided, “A little to the left, Mr. Wayne.”

Your words overlapped with someone else’s. Where you had said Mr. Wayne, they had said Father. Then the man next to you was his son, but...

You would have never guessed it would be him.

Reasonably, you knew that Robin was Damian Wayne. Oliver could be a little loose-lipped at times, and by his judgment you’d been a teenager just a year ago - what could a twenty year old do to Batman’s secret identity? Not much.

Until you saw Robin without his mask.

Damian was achingly beautiful. He was your age, but he stood and talked like he was much older. There was an angle to his shoulder that made him seem astute and sexy. His eyes fixed on you when you spoke at the same time, and they were a surprising mossy color that jumped out against his tan skin, like plants flourishing out of rich soil. There was just enough blue in them to make him seem haunting. Any moment, you felt like he was going to corner you and whisper your future throatily in your ear.

Looking into them, those piercing eyes, for longer than a second made you want to blurt, “You’re much prettier without your mask.”

But that would expose his secret to every golf-loving idiot in earshot, so Oliver had been wrong. A twenty-year-old like you could do fatal damage to Batman’s secret identity, but for Damian, the short-tempered, snappish leader of the Teen Titans, you would risk anything.

Damian stared, and you stared. He squinted, wet his lips, then turned back to the game. This was your only acknowledgment that he recognised you. His voice was deeper, smoother, than you remember it. “Queen.”

You shifted in your shoes, almost laughing in shock. “...Wayne.”

The game grew boring and Damian didn’t say anything else, so you said nothing too, sneaking glances at him. The last time you’d spoken to Robin had been in costume, when he’d thanked you for assisting with a mission. He’d really been thanking you for standing up for him. You didn’t team up often with the Titans, but when you did, you found that they were unusually snappy and mean with their leader. Not necessary on purpose, but you could tell that Damian couldn’t take as many bites as he pretended to. Standing up for him had been a simple thing. The good thing to do. Now, with that look in his eyes, it almost felt like he still thought about it.

He must have, because the kiss you shared at the end of that mission had glowed with heat. To be fair, you both may have believed you were going to die (before the team pulled through and saved you), so it could’ve been a heat-of-the-moment thing. But this was Robin - if he didn't want to kiss you, he wouldn't. And yet he did.

You’d kissed. And the energy of that kiss lingered between you now, drawing you closer together, putting tiny smiles on your faces. He was cute. Cuter without that mask on.

You stood in the stupid golf silence, feeling foolish. Flirting with boys was much easier in fishnets. It didn’t help how fine Damian’s profile was. He had soft, feathery lashes that occasionally touched down on beauty marked cheeks. His lips were even fuller from the side, forever drawn in a curious line. And those eyes, when they caught yours and danced away again, were much too nice to hide behind a mask. You couldn’t get that thought out of your mind.

When Bruce finally made his move, you leaned in to whisper something to each other at the same time, accidentally knocking shoulders.

“I - apologies,” Damian flushed.

“Oh, um, my bad,” you rubbed awkwardly at the spot where you’d collided. “...You were going to say something?”

Damian’s eyes flicked to your fathers, then to you, unimpressed. He lowered his voice so only you could hear. “They’re awfully hypocritical, don’t you think? Father snaps at me everytime I use my skills in public, and yet he’s putting with perfect aim like it’s not the very same.”

Chuckling, you rolled your eyes and scooted closer, ducking your voice into the bubble between your bodies. “My dad’s the same way. Don’t aim in the house, he says, unless it’s him trying to beat Bruce Wayne.”

Your company’s shoulders turned sideways, leaning into you. His breath ghosted the hair on your neck, standing it on end, and again that silky voice sent tingles down your spine. Damian must change his voice as Robin, because he never spoke like this then. So huskily, so low.

He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

You watched him. He watched you. You ran your tongue over your teeth, and Damian subtly adjusted his slacks from his pockets.

At the same time, you asked each other, “Would you like to get a drink?”

_

Your hiding place was a loveseat in the lounge, between more businessmen and their ditzy heirs. The bartender was your family’s, so he smiled and turned down your request for a drink, courtesy of your dad’s strictness. Luckily, he didn’t recognise Damian. You watched him order it at the bar, his rings catching the light, the muscle in his arms peeking out from under his blazer.

“I think he suspected I wasn’t of age, so he only gave me one.” He took the place next to you, propping his ankle on one knee and lounging out like a panther. Damian offered the cocktail to you, once he’d decided the coast was clear. It was a cute gesture. “Is that acceptable?”

You fished a five dollar bill out of your purse. “Only if you take this for paying. Don’t think I didn’t see you try and sneakily get that past me.”

Damian scrutinized the bill, then you, somehow managing to be a smartass without opening his mouth. Instead of thinking about how nice it would feel to kiss the slight crease between his brows, you traded hands with him so the bill was in his and the drink was in yours. The gentle brush of you palm to his knuckles put way too many butterflies in your belly.

You talked about everything and anything. About home, family life, your cities. The best of it was when Damian dipped his head so only you could hear him, keeping your secrets close and your bodies closer. This was the only way he talked about Robin, so you circled back to any vigilante subject you could think of just so Damian would keep purring into your ear like that. Better yet, he was smart. Talking to him was engaging, and within minutes he'd entranced you, so you sat there talking for more than an hour. Around you, the party rotated and went on.

At one point, you took a drink of the cocktail and passed it to him to share. Damian placed his lips right where yours had been, licking up the cocktail salt and gulping it down slow, adam’s apple bobbing, like it wasn’t the taste of the vodka he was savoring.

Eventually, your bliss was broken. Damian was called over to his father, again, to discuss business, and he left you with your remaining cocktail and the memory of that mission. You couldn’t find a reason to move from your seat. When you’d realized that you and Robin had been led into a trap on that mission, it’d been too late, and your efforts to escape became more and more futile. All you could do was pray the Titans got to you on time. Robin had offered you his glove as the walls closed in, and you’d watched up-close as he assumed you were both about to die. The fear in his eyes was strange - like it was familiar to him. At the same time, you cupped his neck and he held your upper back, and you’d kissed fervently, sweetly.

Damian had put his forehead to yours, and promised even as the trap shrunk around you, “You were excellent. More excellent than they ever said.”

In the big picture, it was a strange last remark to make, and afterwards you’d been too happy about surviving to think about it. But in the moment, you understood. You were understood. Somehow, Damian had reached into your soul and gouged out the words you’d been dying to hear, from your parents, from anyone, and uttered them to you with burning conviction. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe he meant it. Damian found you excellent. Someone, somewhere, didn’t think you were a failure.

Odd, how you’d never seen the face of the man you thought you’d die with (until now), and yet he saw you so easily. You watched him follow his father into the party crowd now, wondering. The Titans had saved you before you could ask what he’d meant. More importantly, before you could tell him the same. He was excellent.

_

Once you’d finished off your drink, you left it at the bar and grinned evilly at your family bartender. He rolled his eyes and slyly delivered you another, which, on your superhero schedule, would not have you drunk yet. Another heir to some big company was seated at your right, ignored by his father enough to look for some small talk with you.

He was one of the cute, nerdy types that were usually in awe of you. Girls, available girls, were typically rare at these kinds of parties, so he took you not having a boyfriend as permission to flirt with you. Unfortunately for him, your seat gave a perfect angle on Damian across the party floor. He was impressing the wives of Wayne business partners, who flocked around him like they’d flocked around you, pinching his cheeks. You could almost read their lips enough to guess what they were saying. What a handsome young man you are! Oh, Bruce must be so proud.

“...and then my father flipped over his kayak! Would you believe it? Two thousand dollars, thrown right in our family’s lake.” Your company snickered, howling at his own story.

You circled the rim of your glass, watching how Damian tried to teach some of the women phrases in Arabic. Unknown to them, they were some pretty funny swear words. It threw you into a bout of giggles, and the man next to you kept talking, spurred on by the noise.

The flock of hens around Damian receded, and his shoulders slouched in relief. That was cute, too. It wasn’t often that people understood how draining these parties were, but for people like you and Damian, it was a racetrack of endless, boring circles. Everything was a formality. Few things were genuine. Damian turned, and you caught his eye to let him know you were going to meet him. He nodded toward a side hall, his mouth a curious line again. If you looked at it long enough, it felt like a smile when he mouthed, escape?

Your company was still talking. He stopped when you grabbed his tie and planted a pity-kiss on his cheek, waving to him as you bounced away. “Sorry, kid. Not my type.”

_

You planned to bring Damian to the secluded balcony on the second floor to unwind, but instead, you were taken by the wrist and maneuvered into an empty powder room. It was colder than the steaming party air and smelled like champagne, with couches to sit on and mirrors to powder at. For a bathroom, the lights were warm and low. The noise of the party went quiet the instant the door was shut, like you and Damian had entered your own little world. No more circles. No more back and forth.

“Here,” Damian said, noting the mirrors. He tilted his head as he asked, like he was nervous, “Is this acceptable?”

“It is the ladies powder room, but I’ll give you a pass, since you’re cute.” You joked. Damian didn’t make a move to relax on one of the couches yet, hanging in front of you like there was more he wanted to say. There was more you wanted to say, too, but no good words came to mind.

But the silence wasn’t awkward. Again, Damian stared, and you stared. The glass he brought with him was set down. He put one fist on the counter beside the door, and like honey had been poured on your nerves, you realized how easy it would be for him to push you up against it. Kiss you senseless. Heat drooled off of him this close, and you wondered if he’d still lean in to whisper to you even if you were alone.

The lack of words drew to a point where something had to be said, anything, but his eyes felt so good on your skin and it was interesting to see him nervous. Something strange told you that Damian liked the silence, too.

You wet your lips with your tongue. Damian cleared his throat, and took a sip from his glass. “Was I interrupting something?”

“Between me and that guy?” You smiled gently, like you were reassuring him, and laughed to yourself. “Oh, man, you should’ve seen it, Damian. Poor kid really thought I was flirting with him. He’d totally convinced himself, it was hilarious.”

His profile was tense in the mirror, which you stole glances at to watch how the amber light played on his handsome skin. When Damian swallowed his drink, his throat rolled in the sexiest way, and immediately your mind fed you with visions of suckling, kissing, tonguing his neck.

“Why’d you ask?” Your eyes sparkled. Damian drew a step closer, and you used the opportunity to swipe a drop of alcohol from the corner of his lip with your thumb. “You jealous?”

It was the touch or the suggestion that made Damian pause. He didn’t stutter, but lagged over what to say, eyes vast and wanting as they raked over your face. “I don’t get jealous,” he clarified, “but… I do intend to be the only man to kiss you tonight.”

Damian’s hand took your chin. Your belly exploded with instant arousal, hitting you like a bullet of liquid lust. “You’re the only man who’s kissed me like that,” you whispered, taking his tie in hand. “I hope that’s always true.”

His voice had gone throaty. “May I kiss you again?”

Again, he reminded you.The two of you had kissed before, and it had been spectacular, terrifying, and excellent.

“Please,” you said, and Damian rushed to your aid.

Not a moment more was wasted. Curling his tie into your fist, you drew him in, slow and deep and wonderfully. Damian’s cologne hit you before his lips did, and both made your core throb for friction. Two broad hands slammed your hips into the door. His fingertips smoothed up the fabric of your dress, pressing you back and squeezing you in until you could feel his belt buckle against your belly. Damian was a sweet, magnetic kisser, chasing your lips like he was on a crusade to save them. Each time they met, he swam deeper. The point of his nose bumped against your cheek. You hummed your laugh against his lips, and Damian groaned as he pulled away, readjusting, twisting, testing the limits of the kiss. And you followed him at every step or more, revelling in his taste.

You didn’t want him to think you wanted the kiss to end, so you drew the hands braced under his blazer around his neck. Soon, that didn’t feel close enough, so you cupped each side of his face and pecked Damian until you were breathless. He brought you in until your arms were flat to his chest, the kiss almost vertical in its intensity.

He groaned when you parted, gasping and blinking just inches from your face. Your mouths were still connected by a thick string of drool, which hung until it split and clung to Damian’s chin and fell, marking a wet strip down into his collar. You panted, watching it go.

Damian left your waist to hold your wrists, keeping your hands around his face. He settled warmly into your touch, basking in it, and the pure enjoyment on his face made you smile. You wondered if anyone else had cared for him like this. If Damian had ever felt someone hold his face and treasure it. The thought gave you a strange urge, so you followed it.

You brought Damian’s brow level with your mouth and sweetly kissed his forehead. Then his nose bridge, then his temples. His face was so quickly warm that you giggled. In the most unsubtle way possible, Damian drew back his hips so you couldn’t feel the heat there, and closed his eyes, begging you to continue.

“I want you,” you whispered against his jaw.

Damian shivered. “You have me.”

You shifted one hand to his shoulder, giving yourself more room to nuzzle and kiss his neck. The line of drool was still there, so you cupped his skin and tilted his jaw up, and in one stroke, licked all the way to his earlobe. Damian’s moan poured from his mouth like a growing flood. You even felt his thighs press together between you, and pleasure tingled in your throat when he choked at the glide of your tongue.

He released your wrists, reached beside you, and locked the door with an audible click.

Then, Damian devoured you. Both hands hooked around your back, arching your chest into his, and finally, bringing his bulge between your hips. You clung to him for dear life, helpless as his teeth pressed into your neck like a vampire. Damian fed like one, too, suckling the skin there like he was starved. Your panties were so wet that you were desperate to get out of them, grinding your core against his.

Damian retreated, gasping. He licked the spit off of his lips and glared into your eyes. Bluntly, he said, “I want to eat you out.”

Once more, you kissed him, delirious with excitement. Your lungs burned for air, but your core burned harder for him. “Take off that suit and you can do whatever you want to me.”

His eyes gleamed. “I plan to.”

Quickly, you shoved your hands into his sleeves and pushed them off his shoulders, giving you a crisp glimpse at his carved shoulders. Damian's fingers blurred from button to button, but he saved the last for you on purpose. You worked in tandem and with little thought. If he could, Damian would steal a kiss, and you would bite his lip and chase him into more. When that last button was popped, his white button-down parted for a gorgeous plane of hard-earned muscle. His abs, ribs and pecs were pockmarked with scars, shrapnel marks and in some places, bullet holes. You stopped.

At your staring, Damian pressed his lips together.

“It's.. not appealing, I know,” he monotoned.

“No,” you disagreed, palming his stomach, “it’s impressive. All these do is show how strong you are, how long you've survived. You're so… built...” you didn't hide your thorough examination of him, “...I mean, we have to be to do what we do, but still… It suits you. It's sexy.”

You worried you'd ruined the moment with your babbling, but he glimmered under your praise. Damian brightened in the way only Damian could, smirking devilishly and towering over you like a supervillain.

“Sexy?” He pressed his naked chest into yours, whispering hotly in your ear. You could feel his silk tie pinned between you. “Does that mean I'm your type?”

You rolled your eyes. “Eavesdropper.”

“Temptress,” Damian replied, just as easily.

To claim your title, you found Damian's belt and pulled on it until the clasp gave. It made a satisfying whipping noise as you ripped it off of him, shouldered into his space to grab his waist in one hand, and cupped his throbbing boxers in the other. Damian's sigh came hoarsely and wanton from his mouth.

“Fuck me,” you demanded, grinning with delight.

Instead of wasting time on a response, Damian fell to his knees, a faithful worshipper. He did the gentlemanly thing and helped you kick off your heels. The tile was icy on your bare feet, but it only mattered until Damian ran his hands up your thighs. Sliding his fingers underneath the fabric, he bunched it up your middle, peering up at you smugly through his lashes. You could feel the debauchery of it - Damian, on his knees, tie hanging still from his neck, pinning you to the door. You, your legs spread and wanting.

Damian sucked in a breath. Your panties had an obvious wet patch, put there by him. He thumbed it carefully, watching your brows tense and your eyes close, basking in your initial whine. All of it enchanted him. You were soaking because of him, trembling because of him, marked because of him. There was not one place he would rather be than here.

Damian collected your sweetness and sampled the taste on his thumb, trapping it behind his smug smile. He ran his tongue over his teeth, spreading the flavor around his mouth, savoring it. As Damian rolled your underwear down your legs, his cock twitched in his open fly. You were beautiful. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

“Put your leg over my shoulder,” Damian ordered, smirking, “I want to taste you.”

Warmth exploded in your cheeks. “G-go ahead.”

Gradually, you situated your leg across his back, pussy tensing at the touch of the cooler air. This didn't matter for long. Damian's warm lips nuzzled and kissed the thigh closest to him, painting messy reflective circles on your skin with his kiss. Even that made your legs tense wildly, so Damian shoving his wet, blazing tongue into the folds of you cunt pumped moan after moan from your mouth.

“Damian!” You yelped.

Oh, he definitely liked that. Damian pinched your ass and used his mouth so passionately that his head shook back and forth. He darted right for your clit, sucking it until his cheeks were hollow and humming smugly between your legs with every squeal. Parting your folds with one hand, Damian kissed your core just as dirtily as he'd kissed you. The dangerous glint in his eye never faded. He plunges his tongue inside you in earnest, slurping obscenely, purposefully. There's no need for Damian to shoot you cute looks or put on a show - his skill was the performance, because that skill was unbeatable. Your pussy was already tender, fucked nerveless by Damian's filthy mouth. He vibrated your cunt with a deep groan before he drew away, face dripping with slick like a pornstar’s.

“You're suitably wet,” he said, matter-of-factly, “would you like me to use my fingers?”

All the strength you had went into a weak, pleading nod.

Damian was polite enough to grant you your bearings first, letting you grip his hair and squeeze the counter before he resumes. You give him the sweetest, most precious whine when Damian licks you open again. He wisely starts with one finger and builds from there, earning you with pumps and curls of his digits. Damian's talents quickly become a currency, one that you exchange with mewls and pants of praise.

“So good,” you whine, “oh, fuck - fuck, just like that…”

Damian smirks between your legs, jamming his fingers faster into your sore pussy. Lust sizzles low in your gut, ramped up again and again by his thrusting. It’s so powerful that you roll and buck off the door, your hips in his face. You want him - want him more than you want anything.

“You're ravaging,” Damian hums between licks. His eyes are closed, but that only gives the way he touches you more meaning.

It’s so surprising from his mouth that your hold on his hair slips, setting Damian free. He pants, catching his breath, and it’s easily the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. The effort has slouched him from his knees to his calves, further spreading his legs and opening up the fly of his pants. A solid bulge has formed and spilled out there, straining to escape his briefs like an arm in a sling that’s too small, way too small, for someone of his size. Three of Damian’s fingers are still twisting inside of you.

Slowly, Damian tipped back his head and hung down, arranging himself beneath your cunt. “So beautiful.” His free hand splayed where your leg met your hip. “May I touch you?”

“I-I get it’s the gentleman thing to do, to - to keep asking, but fuck, Damian,” you cursed, “you can do whatever you want to me.”

Damian’s intense jade eyes were so dilated that you could barely make out the color. He dragged his cheek against your thigh, fingers still circling inside you, and grinned like a shark. It was probably a bad idea to give the heir to the Demon’s Head that much power over you.

His other hand squeezed your skin, slow to passionate, from your belly to your breasts beneath your dress. It’s clear by the way Damian looks at you that he loves what he sees. The texture of his veiny, calloused hands feels good on your waist and ass, dragging you closer to him. He chuckles when your back arches, when your nails press into his hands, his back muscles, throwing himself into his task. Damian’s nose prods your folds as he licks you clean, tongue dipping and sliding against your sore clit. It’s like he’s done this for you before, in this exact way. Though he utilizes his tongue the most, his lips too are brutal, matched perfectly to fit your pussy lips.

But that tongue - how Damian’s jaw isn’t tired, you don’t know. He parts your folds and latches onto your clit, flicking his tongue at superspeed until drool and cum bubbles from your sensitive core. Your back winds tighter at every vibrating lick, paralyzing the muscles in your legs with glorious pleasure. It’s so exquisite you start to melt to the floor like warm clay, only to be bolstered back up by Damian, both hands viciously squeezing your ass. He keeps going not for you, but himself, sucking down every last drop of your juices.

Shattered, you twist hopelessly into his mouth, chasing the strained feeling like it’s the last you’ll ever glimpse. “Fuck, fuck - D-Damian, ah…”

“Did it feel good when I made you cum?” He teases, “It certainly tastes good. All those filthy little noises you make for me…” Damian shakes his head at himself, like it’s too fantastic to indulge again. He leaves your clit with a satisfied kiss. “Beautiful.”

Once more, the words are surprising to hear from him. You always considered Damian the prude type, but here he is, on his knees for you, mouth and chin glittering with your juices while he teases you in low, sexy tones. At your surprised look, Damian has the gall to blush.

With his ring finger in his mouth, he ponders, “If a man has never said that to you before...” pop, “consider me surprised.”

“Never while finger-fucking me, at least,” you admited, legs still trembelling. “It was sweet. You… you meant that?”

It was hard to imagine Damian Wayne finding anything beautiful. Even you, who was pretty enamored with him, figured he would judge by quality or skill, not beauty. The words tasted new on his tongue.

Slowly, Damian stood and stretched, his shoulders tight after staying in the strange position for so long. Lifting his arms coincidentally let his waistband sit lower on his hips, flashing his green boxers your way while showing off the huge, carved muscles of his arms. Truly, Damian’s subtlety was unmatched. You didn’t mind his miniature bragging fest - not when he had so much to brag about. Eating you out had put an excited shimmer in his skin, so the gold-toned lights of the room reflected sexily off his sweat, already accenting his kissable tan.

“I did,” he told you, moving on to his sucking middle finger. His other hand played on your thigh, stroking it. “I’ve always been… drawn to you. Every mission we’ve had together. I have a profound feeling that we are very similar.”

You laughed. Not at what he said, but the timing of it. “Would you believe me if I said I felt the same way?”

Damian made a face like his heart was doing jumping jacks. “A few hours ago? No. But now…” he barricaded you against the door, first with his hands and then his hips, closed in so tightly that you had to look past your nose to meet his eyes. “Your crush is adorably obvious. I’m annoyed that I didn’t see it before.”

Your rounded your hands against Damian’s shoulders, then his tie. It twisted nicely around your fingers, silky and cold in comparison to your flushed skin. You were tempted to fix your dress, but nothing, not even the world ending, could make you leave this room.

“My crush is obvious? Damian, all you’ve done for the last two hours is sneak me drinks and imply how much easier it is to be around me.” You grinned, “What’d you say earlier? There you are, Queen. Finally, someone intelligent enough to speak to me.”

Damian shrugged. “It’s true. Your knowledge of bioluminescent ocean life is fascinating.”

“I can’t believe you said that after giving me head for ten minutes.”

“It’s actually been closer to twelve,” Damian smirked.

Playfully, you pinched Damian’s cheek, then pulled him by the tie into a starved, energetic kiss. He must’ve been praying for your permission to continue, because the plan he’d been forming is quickly put into action. You’re hugged, arms scooped under your back as you kiss him. Damian surrenders his mouth to a bit of revenge tonguing while undoing your dress. No amount of kissing will pull him from his task, but your hand is a special case - it smooths down the front of his boxers and Damian melts.

“Y/N,” he groans.

Damian petulantly resists the temptation to close his eyes, but your touch is soft and sweet, demanding him to yield. Your lips suckle on his neck and Damian’s knees buckle. If getting his mouth between your legs didn’t turn him on, then this will finish him for sure.

“I missed you. Kissing you.” You purr into his throat. “One could never be enough for me.”

Is this what it’s like to be wanted? Damian asked himself. The only possible answer thrilled him, and he found himself pouring even more passion into the kiss, into you, wanting to share that rush of affection. You respond to his every touch with vigor. Damian’s heart stalls each time your thumb strokes his face, each time the other strokes him through his slacks.

“Me either,” he rasped, and helped you out of your dress. His tone was shy, but his words held too much depth to be meaningless. I want a wealth of them. I always want to kiss you, was what he wanted to say, but Damian was too embarrassed to raise the words. This moment was too special to ruin with his hopeless romanticism. He kissed you again and again, and to his amazement, you kissed him right back.

“Fuck me,” you begged him between breaths. “Right here. I don’t care if we’re caught.”

I don’t care if we’re seen together. I want to be seen with you, I’m not ashamed of you.

Damian cupped your face and almost knocked you both over with the strength of his kiss. Nose-to-nose, eyes closed, he commanded, “Bend over the fucking counter.”

In a blink, Damian turned and there you were, open and waiting for him. The sink was hip-level, so the bend was nothing but perfect - Damian could fuck you from behind and watch your lust-blown reflection without issue. Your perfect pussy drooled leftover cum down your legs, making your sex shine in the light.

In the mirror, you watched Damian’s eyes darken in delight. His pupils followed the line of your ass to your back, appreciating it like an artist would, like he intended to paint you later and needed to memorize the greatest shapes of your figure. The marble was icy against your hard nipples, which Damian had exposed when he’d impatiently shoved down your bra. Now, he cupped one of your breasts as he bent over you, kissing and suckling his way down your back.

“Perfect,” Damian hissed.

Shyly pressing your butt back against him, you buried your face in your arms and bit your lip, waiting for him to open you up. Damian’s shadow came to hover over you, and in the mirror his eyes were vicious, pools of circling sharks. “Are you ready?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Take your time.”

Though you weren’t being sarcastic, Damian took it that way and pinched one cheek of your ass. “With you? I will.” Then, with the same smoothness, Damian asked, “Condom?”

“Pill,” you replied, and Damian nodded his approval.

His pants rustled as they fell down his legs. Where you couldn’t see, Damian committed the sight to memory - his cock in hand, your pussy spread open, all for him. You squeaked when his hot tip touched your cooling clit, and squeaked again when it glided down your pussy and tested your opening. He knew he’d found the way when you winced.

In an unsurprising moment of compassion (for those who truly knew him), Damian kissed the top of your head and offered you his hand. “Would you like to hold it while I…?”

You took his hand and squeezed it to your chest, squeezing him closer in the process, too. “Thank you. Go slow, for this part…”

Damian complied. His sweat-sticky chest hovered warmly over your back. Even if Damian was big, you were wetter than you’d ever been in your entire life - any pain would quickly slide into pleasure. He braced himself with a deep inhale, and a hot, sharp sensation told you that he’d entered you. Where you choked in a needy gasp, Damian poured out his version of a whimper. You both held it. Then, breath by breath, you were struck with the realization that you’d been dying to feel this for weeks, for months, and only now was that heat being satisfied. Damian’s tongue and fingers had come close, but this is what would cure that aching emptiness - his big, girthy cock.

The deathgrip you had on Damian’s hand loosened. “You look perfect,” he murmured into your hair, instantly making your core flutter. “Oh,” he chuckled filthily, “you like that? Funny, how badly that idiot at the bar wanted to be in my place right now…but it’s me who gets to pound into—”

“Damian,” you warned.

He smiled smugly against your neck. “Nothing.”

Dutifully, Damian withdrew his hips, taking all of the heat with him. When he rolled back in, a hot, tingling sensation roared over all of your senses, and you let the moan at the top of that tsunami loose. It was clear that he couldn’t fuck you like he wanted to with one hand fished down at your side, so he glued both to the base of your back and started to thrust in earnest.

“So full...” You mewled, and Damian became a human pile-driver.

Your head seemed to roll off your shoulders with every crazed, rhythmic slam, so you grabbed the faucet and held on for dear life. Every slap was so loud, so powerful, that you prayed this one random bathroom in the penthouse was soundproofed. Anyone walking past would know you were getting railed out of your mind. You tried to compensate by moaning and squeaking quietly, but with force came volume. It didn’t matter how silent you were, Damian’s hips, your ass, the squelch of him inside you - each noise filled the bathroom, echoing off the tile.

The only way you could think to describe him was filling. First, there was the hot, cinching tension of his hands fused to your waist. Then there was his cock, which begged to be squeezed more and more with every pass. You responded to each throb with a mighty clench, which bent Damian over you like an animal, gasping for breath. His balls were painted with your slick. The closer you came to orgasm together, the closer Damian came to you. His hands migrated to higher on your sides, then up by your shoulders, then around you, where Damian kissed your back and rubbed your belly while he made love to you. He talked more than he moaned. Your ear was filled with sweet nothings, with vicious promises of what he would do with a whole night alone with you.

Damian’s reflection was wild with lust. He met your eyes as he fucked you, whispering how beautiful you are, how good you take his dick. His deep green eyes were so dark you couldn’t make out the brown in them anymore. The long muscles on his arms drew taut with each thrust, making his biceps bulge and pin your hips to the sink. Soon enough, a bruise would form from the pressure. One of many treasures from tonight - you would be thinking about Damian in his crisp suit for months to come, and the mess he’d become with you now even longer. Your pleasure built and built and built, like a nail struck further into the ground with a hammer. A very, very big hammer.

“M’ cumming,” Damian husked, slowing his plowing to a sloppy glide. Even his endurance was spent, and you were glad he’d spent it all on you. “Where d’ you…?”

You braced your hands on the counter, then on one of Damian’s. Together, you smoothed his digits down your stomach and between your soft, abused folds. “Inside me, please, please please—” you begged him, “fuck, a-as deep as you can go.”

As a test of your flexibility, Damian turned in and kissed you. Just as he parted your lips with his tongue, he parted your folds with his fingertips, overriding your clit as his cock throbbed inside you to the hilt. He took the invitation as a command. Damian pressed in until you could feel his abs mold to your ass, then stuttered his hips in quick, agonized dips to get himself there. With his fingers and his cock putting stars in your eyes, you finished first.

The white marble counter fizzed in your vision, until all you could see was that powerful, endless white, humming in your mind’s eye. Still, Damian wasn’t finished yet. You bumped your temple against his chin and hummed, “Cum for me, baby… fuck, a-ah!”

Your pussy’s throb raced and raced until it spilled over, pulling Damian right under the current. One clench and he was done for, so the velvety, periodic squeeze of your cunt emptied his store. You hung there, spasming in unison, until that overwhelming heat spurted in a ring around Damian’s cock and flooded out of you. Only then did his fingers stop on your clit, and you settled warmly in each other's arms and tried to remember your names and who you were.

Damian pulled out, then snuggled back in. He would’ve been nervous any other time, but he’d just put his dick inside you, so a little instinctive cuddling could be forgiven. On shaky legs, you turned around and sunk into him. You could tell by how he was eyeing the sink that he was desperate to get clean again, so with one kiss (on the cheek), you set Damian loose.

In companionable silence, Damian cleaned up and you collected the clothes abandoned on the floor. Staring at the corner where you’d just had the best sex of your life put an embarassingly pleasant warmth in your chest. Interesting, how one terrifying moment could become something as special as this. Fascinating, how you’d felt like you’d known him all your life.

“You know… I think you’re excellent, too.” You told him, finishing off the knot for his tie.

Damian dipped his head to hide his smile, but something so bright was impossible to hide.

[bi-bard]

Chick Flick Moments - Sam Winchester Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: Chick Flick Moments

Pairing: Sam Winchester X Reader

Requested: by an anonymous reader

Word Count: 2,363 words

Warning(s): violence, cussing, Sam embarrassing himself, spoilers for any movie/show listed in the author's note

Summary: (Season 11) Gabriel takes a break from hiding to teach (Y/n) and Sam to forgive each other.

Author's Note: I had so much fun putting this request together! Also, if I remember correctly, this reader wanted to remain anonymous.

Here are links to all the scenes that inspired parts of this imagine:

1 (Princess Bride), 2 (8x12 Criminal Minds; can't find just the scene to link), 3 (Moulin Rouge), 4 (The Notebook), 5 (The 10 Things I Hate About You), 6 (Gilmore Girls), 7 (La La Land)

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

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

I rolled my eyes as I walked through the bunker.

Sam was still ranting about the most recent hunt. I was just tired of listening to it. Dean had long since given up trying to control his brother, who had shown no sign of listening to anyone.

"You can't just throw yourself into every single enemy," Sam yelled. "Fun fact, you're not Superman!"

"Oh my god," I finally, turning around. I had been halfway through the library at this point. Dean continued through the bunker, ignoring us. "I ran up to one extra vamp because you were about to get your throat ripped out! Yes, I put myself in danger but it was to save you!"

"Why are you so desperate to be a hero," he asked.

"Why are you so pissy that I saved you," I shouted back.

I let out a yell before turning and leaving.

"Where are you going?"

"To bed," I shouted from down the hall. "Maybe you'll be nicer in the morning! You're welcome for saving your ass!"

I stormed into my room and slammed the door shut. I changed quickly, throwing my old clothes into the corner before curling up on my bed. My emotions got the better of me. I started crying into my pillow.

Imagine saving the man you secretly loved... and then he got mad at you about it.

I fell asleep crying that night.

--time skip--

I shot awake, cringing at how bright it was.

I looked around, letting my eyes adjust to the light.

I was on a hill. I was on a hill, lying in the grass with the sun shining on my face. This is not good.

I stood up and did a circle to look around the long stretches of grass. Nothing looked even slightly familiar.

"For fuck's sake," I muttered.

I decided that the best option would be to try to climb down and find a person... somewhere.

I was just about to start making my way down the hill when I felt a hand grab me.

Out of pure fear, I grabbed the person and pulled them from behind me. The person went flying down the hill.

"(Y/n)," I heard Sam's voice yell as he rolled down the hill.

I put my hand over my mouth. He soon stopped rolling and then he stood up, scrambling to pull the black mask off of his face. I sighed, dropping my hand when I saw he was alright.

"Sam," I called.

"Your instinct is to throw some down a hill," Sam asked.

"When a masked man tries to grab me, definitely," I replied. "Fun fact, Sam, I can actually defend myself."

He gave me a sarcastic smile. I shot it right back to him.

Sam looked down at his outfit before sighing and shrugging at me. He had just started to move back up the hill when my visions went dark.

I opened my eyes a few moments later.

What had been an open field was now a dark warehouse or factory. I saw Sam across from me, but also a group of people behind him. I recognized them. They were characters from Criminal Minds, a guilty pleasure I watched when we weren't hunting.

I tried to figure out what was happening.

Then, I became all too aware of the barrel of a gun pressing into my neck.

"No," Sam yelled.

It clicked.

Sam was supposed to be Spencer. I was Maeve. This was Zugzwang.

My heart dropped.

"Wait, please, don't," Sam yelled as the gun pressed harder on my neck.

"Sam, shut up," I snapped.

"Me for (Y/n)," he shouted.

"You would do that," Diane- the unsub of that episode- asked.

"Yes," Sam replied.

"No," I yelled. "Sam, shut up."

"You shut up," Diane growled at me.

"One difference between me and her...," I growled back.

I grabbed the gun, pushing it forward, away from my neck. The bullet she tried to fire hit the brick wall. I turned, bringing an elbow down on her arm. Her hand dropped the gun into my grasp. I pointed it toward her.

"...I'm not scared of a simple gun."

The others walked over and arrested her. I looked at Sam.

"If you continued, she would've killed herself, which would've killed me," I explained. He furrowed his eyebrows. "I watch this show when we aren't hunting."

He walks over, going to hug me before the scene changes again.

"Holy...," I trailed off as I looked around.

Around us, we could see the tops of roofs and a beautiful night sky. It was almost a dreamy setting.

"Where are we now," Sam asked.

"Only the great Moulin Rouge," Sam and I both twirled around to face... Gabriel. "I know, I know... I'm not dead, anyway!"

I rolled my eyes.

"You two need to learn a lesson," he pointed at us.

"It's like back in 2010," I mumbled. "Play our roles to get out. Probably why we were pulled out of the last two."

"You'll fall into them naturally, I promise," Gabriel smirked. "And yes. Stop ignoring the plotline."

"Alright... sure, I was gonna get shot for your crappy game," I snapped sarcastically.

Then, he was gone. I rolled my eyes.

"So, what are the roles," Sam asked as I walked around the top of the elephant.

"Well, Christian and Satine," I pointed between us. "Maeve and Spencer. The Princess Bride and Westley. It's all romance."

"Why," Sam scrunched his face up.

"Because Gabe wants to get his rocks off," I said sarcastically, "I don't know, Sam!"

I walked down the stairs of the elephant. It was gorgeous here. It was just as vibrant as the movie made it look.

"Wow," I look back at Sam. "This is awesome."

I chuckled and nodded.

"What seen is it?"

"The Elephant Love Medley," I said. "Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman sing this mash-up of famous love songs as his character tries to convince her that there is nothing more important than love."

"I'm not gonna sing," Sam shook his head.

"I was not gonna ask you too," I chuckled. "I've heard you sing."

"Rude."

I just shrugged.

I looked around at the room, trying to figure out how to play these roles without the singing.

"Wait," I said. "Come on."

I grabbed his hand and pulled him back to the stairs.

"What is it," Sam asked as we made it to the top.

"At the end of the medley, Christian and Satine are dancing and they walk out onto this field of clouds and are held up in the sky."

"What-"

"This whole movie feels like a fever dream the first time you watch it."

"Come on," Sam held a hand out to me.

"Can you dance?"

"Not well," he chuckled. "The role didn't say I needed to be good."

He grabbed my hand and pulled me closer to him.

I tried to lead his steps and laughed as he stumbled into a pattern.

"Come on," I moved back so I could grab only one hand.

I led him a few steps forward and onto- what seemed to be- steps in the clouds. I let out an excited laugh when it worked. Sam looked at me and grinned at my excitement.

As soon as got to the top of the steps... it was gone.

We were in the middle of the street now.

"Aw, that was just mean," I mumbled. I glared at Sam when I heard him laughed.

He held his hands up jokingly before extending one toward me. I furrowed my eyebrows at him.

"I know what movie this is," he shrugged. I motioned for him to continue explaining. He walked over, hand still held out to me, "The Notebook. Noah and Allie dance in the street. So... will you dance with me? Even without the sequence where we dance in the clouds."

I bit my lip as I smiled.

I took his hand and let him pull me into the street. I laughed as I stumbled into his chest.

We fell into the scene naturally.

Sam held one of my hands in his and held my waist with the other. I placed my free hand on his shoulder. I looked up at him. It felt strange that we so casually fell into the scene but I was happy.

Sam jokingly twirled me around before pulling me back to his chest. I closed my eyes and chuckled.

"What," he asked.

"Nothing," I shook my head. "I just never saw you as such a romantic."

"Well, don't tell anyone, you'll ruin my reputation," he said sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes.

Sam spun the two of us in a circle before going to dip me. I didn't think I'd ever get to experience something like this. It always just felt like something I should forget about as a hunter. I was starting to forget why I was so angry with Sam in the first place.

I barely noticed that Sam was leaning in before the scene around me changed.

I was on a football field.

I looked around.

There was no sign of Sam.

"Crap," I mumbled, trying to figure out where to look first.

Then, there was a voice going over the field's speakers.

"You're just too good to be true... can't take my eyes off of you..."

I looked around toward the stands to see Sam walking with a mic. Can't sing, my ass.

"You'd be like heaven to touch... I wanna hold you so much"

"Oh my god," I muttered.

"At long last love has arrived... And I thank God I'm alive... You're just too good to be true... Can't take my eyes off of you."

I tried to bite back my laugh. He shrugged at me with an embarrassed smile and stepped into the actual stands.

We both jumped when the marching band started playing. I looked to see Gabriel smirking and leading their march.

Sam and I shrugged at each other. He continued on with the act.

Now, Sam Winchester pretending to be Patrick in "10 Things I Hate About You" was a treat... and was exactly what you imagined it would be.

He was almost stumbling down the steps as he continued on with the act. I was laughing hysterically by the time I saw the security guards starting to run in.

"Sam," I yelled, pointing behind him.

"Crap," I heard through the mic (which made me almost double-over in laughter) as he tried to take off running.

As soon as he was grabbed, the scene changed.

We both took a deep breath when we realized we were sitting together in a car.

"Thank god," Sam mumbled.

"That was a great performance, by the way," I said, still chuckling.

"Shut up," he muttered, laughing along with me. We fell silent after a minute. "So... what scene is this?"

"I have no idea," I replied.

"It's Gilmore Girls, dumbasses," we heard Gabriel's voice but saw no sign of him. "Season 1, Episode 16... absolute idiots."

"Didn't peg him for a Gilmore Girls fan," I said. Sam laughed.

"Me neither."

We fell silent again.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, looking over at me. "You were right. You can defend yourself and you were just trying to help me. I'm sorry for being such a dick about it."

I grinned, "Thanks... I forgive you. I know you were just worried about me."

Sam smiled back.

"I... umm...," Sam looked down for a moment, clearing his throat and collecting his thoughts. "I just... I love you."

My heart leaped up into my throat. I blinked at him a few times and forced a chuckle out. Which was the wrong response but I panicked. Hunters... we could face the devil but emotions were a no-no.

"(Y/n)," Sam's smile dropped slowly when he realized I wasn't responding.

I was just about to respond when the scene changed again.

Sam was gone again and I was on a city street.

"Dammit," I muttered.

I ran down the street, turning the corner. I looked at the wall of the building I was by. Was this a jazz club?

I walked through the door and was guided to a table so I could sit down and watch the performance.

"La La Land," I said.

Sam and I watched this together. Dean had gone to bed. We weren't tired and just turned this movie on because it looked like it was mostly happy.

Big dance numbers, beautiful effects... and the epilogue that made me hide tears from Sam.

I looked at the stage. Sam was sitting there, wearing a suit, looking at the audience nervously. He hesitantly reached toward the piano. It was like it was a prerecorded track. It sounded just like the movie.

I smiled.

I just wanted to talk to him.

Soon the performance ended.

I stood up and started walking over, seeing Sam starting to walk out.

I grinned at him, "Sam-"

He cut me off by cupping the sides of my face and kissing me softly. I touched his sides lightly, smiling against his lips. It was... magic. Absolute magic.

Then, I shot awake, back in my bed in the bunker.

The game was over. Thank God.

"(Y/n)," I heard yell through the bunker hall.

I ran into the hall and ran toward his room.

We stopped as soon as we saw each other.

"Please tell me that wasn't a dream," I said. He shook his head, smiling widely at me.

I ran over, pulling him down to kiss him again. It was softer than our last kiss and I loved it. His arms wrapped around me and pulled me closer. I buried my hands through his hair.

"Woah, what did I miss," we pulled away when we heard Dean.

I could basically feel Sam chuckle against my lips before he moved to look at his brother. I turned around in Sam's arm.

"A chick flick moment," Sam answered.

"Alright," Dean gave us a weird look before leaving without another word.

I looked back at Sam with a smile, "I love you."

"I love you too," he grinned and leaned in to kiss me softly again.

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

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[birdsandspades]

Bedtime Routine (A Bakugou Katsuki Oneshot)

-Bakugou drags home his drunk girlfriend after his friend Kirishima's wedding, how much babying will she need as the night goes by? Only the sake will tell!

Word Count - 4,516

- I honestly didn't know how to feel about this oneshot, but I wanted to write one for Bakugou and I felt like some of the parts were cute. So with that, enjoy some soft domestic Bakugou.

----

The keys once again slipped out of your hand, clinking together as they hit the ground. Leaning over, you grabbed the hand next to you as you reached down to pick them up again. 

“Just give me those, i’m tired of watching you miss the keyhole.” Bakugou pulled the pile of keys from your hand, annoyance evident in his eyes. He fiddled with the lock for a moment before shoving the door open for you to walk inside.

“Katsuki, I'm drunk.” You giggled, the dissipating warmth still present in the apples of your cheeks. You have him a spacy smile before turning your attention back to the door. It was a small gap between the level of your front porch and the door frame, nothing menacing to the normal person. But the longer you looked at the door, the higher up it seemed. The ground spinning at a dizzying speed as you gathered the mental aptitude to move your already wobbly feet over it. 

A soft hand on your back gave you the last boost of courage you needed to attempt the monumental feet of getting your damned foot inside of your apartment. You lifted your foot, placing it over the door frame. Mission accomplished, now you just needed to get the last foot over. You lifted it, trying to follow the same path you had taken with your other appendage. Your heel barely nicked the doors threshold, the movement stopping as you jolted forward.  You attempted to grab the wall next to you, hand grasping at air as the floor came rushing towards you. 

Bakugou grabbed the back of your arm, pulling you upright and back onto your wobbly legs.  “I know that dumbass, now move so I can come inside.” He pushed you gently once you had your footing again, squeezing past you before closing the door. He reached a hand around you, flipping the switch next to the door. 

You squinted, scrunching your nose at the bright lights. A hand tugged at the end of your coat sleeve, pulling each one off of you. You watched as Bakugou took it to the nearby hallways closet with his own, hanging them up neatly. 

He gave you a confused glance, the corner of his mouth turning up in an awkward smile as you continued to stare at him. “You good space cadet? Did all that sake finally get to you?” 

Your face soured as the ghost of alcohol's past hit your tongue. You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the bad taste mentally and physically. 

----

Bakugou couldn’t help but laugh at his light weight of a girlfriend, absolutely wasted after four shots and two beers. He had warned you not to drink with him and his friend at the ceremony, he knew this was bound to happen. He had suggested staying with the girls instead, “You won’t be able to keep up princess, go giggle and gossip with the other girls.” He had ment it in a loving way, only wanting you to enjoy your night. But he knew you had taken it a bit too serious when you shoved your way in between Denki and Sero at the table, hands folded over your chest like a disobedient child. 

By the time the reception had ended and everyone was ready to head home you were way past your limit. Bakugou had found you sitting in the middle of the dance floor with an equally drunk Mirio trying to play a card game neither of you knew the rules too.

Bakugou had to resort to carrying you out of the reception hall over his shoulder, you frantically waving goodbye to his drunken friends as he threw you in the rideshare home. But your drunken shenanigans hadn’t ended there. 

He loved how social you were, making friends just came easy to you. He would bring you to his hero event, relying on your bright and bubbly nature to mask his social lackings, happy that he could just leave all the questions to his likeable side kick and lover. But it was that same loveable attitude that was killing him in the car. 

You had started the conversation off light with the driver, reminiscing on the beautiful wedding you had just attended with your very handsome boyfriend (you made sure to tell her that as well). But once she asked about music for the car trip home Bakugou knew he was in for a long ride. If he had to pick one thing to change about you (and he would have to be held at gunpoint to say this) it would be your music taste. It was his (un)lucky night that the drive and you just happened to share the same love for 2000’s club hits, and that's just what he got to listen to the entire ride home. 

----

Now you were home, safe and sound. With the perfect night coming to a close he recalled the beautiful wedding he had attended for his best friend, and the wonderful night he had shared with the one he loved most. Bakugou smiled to himself as he slipped off his shoes, he hoped he could spend the rest of his life like this with you. You made him feel loved every second he was with you. Whether it be random flowers on his desk after a long patrol, your soft fingers tangled with his under the table at meetings, or that stupidly cute grin on your face as you stared at him for no apparent reason, he was absolutely smitten with you. 

You reached a hand out, placing it on the wall next to you. Holding on for what felt like dear life you leaned down, slipping off your heels before attempting to neatly place them next to the door. A familiar hand wrapped around your middle, holding you steady as you stood back up. Your eyes trailed up the man in front of you, taking in all the ways his black dress shirt strained against his muscles. You ran a hand down the length of his arm, feeling the way it flexed against your fingers as he pulled you closer. 

Your eyes finally met his, the auburn hues starting to match the color creeping across your cheeks. You tangled your fingers in the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling yourself to your toes. He wrapped another arm around your middle, giving you the last boost you needed to finally meet his lips. You melted into the warmth he emitted as your lips lazily danced along his own. 

Smirking, he pulled away from your drunken grip. “Go get undressed, i’ll be there in a minute.” He turned you towards the bedroom before giving your ass a light pat. He shook his head, chuckling as he watched you walk down the hallway, skipping slightly as you rounded the corner to your shared bedroom.

Walking into the kitchen he peaked down the hallway one more time, smiling to himself once he saw the bedroom light turn on. He reached up, opening the cabinet and pulling out a glass. Turning it over in his hand, he ran his thumb over the upraised lettering branded on the glass. 

----

You had brought it back for him when you returned from your year in America. It was one of the worst years of his life, the distance between you and him only reassuring him that he would never let you be that far away ever again. When he had seen you running down the stairs at the airport the day you came home, this glass in hand he knew he was keeping your forever. “You're gone for a year and you bring me back a shitty pint glass from MY american fanclub?” He couldn’t believe you had wasted money on his fan merchandise, let alone bought it for him. 

“I saw it in one of the store windows when I was on patrol and I thought it was cute. They made you look so much nicer than you really are, look you're smiling!” You beamed, pointing out the happy look on his artificial face.

He chased you out of the airport, ready to ship you back to America with your shit present. You could only laugh, paying no attention to the string of curses that echoed behind you as you ran for the car. You instead focused on the slight blush your words brought to the apples of his cheeks, happy to know he liked the gift. 

----

Turning on the sink he filled up the glass before making his way down the hallway towards the bedroom. “You better be on your side of the bed. It’s not my fault you bought a shitty pillow, and i’m not fucking sharing again.” He opened the door to your body lazily laid out across the entirety of the bed, still fully dressed and already snoring. “Hey, no! Get the fuck up, your not falling asleep with all your fucking makeup on!” He kicked the side of the bed, trying to wake you up. 

You peeled open your eyes, sitting up on to look at your very aggravated boyfriend standing above you. “Katsuki i’m so tired…” You whined, attempting to lay back down.

A firm hand grabbed your forearm, forcing you to stay upright. “Drink this, don’t fall back asleep.” Bakugou forcefully handed you the glass of water, glaring down at you before walking to the connected bathroom. 

You listened to him rummage around for a moment, drawers opening and closing while you drank your water. Your eyes drifted to the large picture that hung on the wall above your bed. It was of you and him on your last day of school at UA, smiling at one another, diplomas in hand. His mother had taken it after the graduation ceremony before you went to your rooms to pack up your belongings. What no one knew was right after that picture was when he had asked you to move in with him. He had already picked out an apartment located in between both of your agencies months before, keys in hand when you walked into the dorm building. 

“Come here.” Bakugou yelled from the bathroom, pulling you out of your reminiscing. 

The shower started as you stood up, the warm steam already seeping out from underneath the door. You pushed open the bathroom door, tired eyes roaming over the man waiting for you. You walked over to him, a soft smile adorning your face as you looked over his own. “Hi Kacchan.”

“Hi princess.” He droned, reached for the empty glass in your hands. Setting it down he swapped it for the makeup wipes on the bathroom counter. He peeled open the package, pulling one out before throwing the rest back on the counter top. 

He placed his hands on your waist, lifting you up to sit on the counter in front of him. “You yelled at me last time I let you fall asleep with all this shit on. I don’t want to deal with it tomorrow.” Reaching up, he drew your chin between his finger and thumb. He held you still as he started to wipe off the nights makeup, tilting your head back and forth gently as he ran the cold cloth over your skin. 

Your eyes scanned over the hardened lines of his face, taking in the small details as he concentrated on getting the glittery eyeshadow off your eyelids. You reached your hand up, tracing over his bottom lip. “Don’t you think the wedding was beautiful Katsuki, Kiri looked so happy today.” You hummed, looking back on the night you had just shared with him. 

Bakugou remained silent as he pulled out another wipe, his focus firm on getting every bit of makeup off your face. 

“I hope if we ever get married our wedding is that beautiful. I would say yes if you asked me, because I love you.” You flashed your boyfriend a cheesy smile, your hand resting on his waist as you scooted yourself closer to him. 

“I love you too, now shut up.” He readjusted your head in his hand as he started on your red adorned lips. The long lasting lipstick doing just as it promised as he struggled to wipe it off. 

“I think Tsu-chan would be my maid of honor because she’s my…” You wrinkle your brow, pulling away from the red stained makeup wipe. “Katsuki, you got it in my mouth.” You shook your head, the taste still lingering on the tip of your tongue.

“Then stop talking.” He pulled you closer again, holding your head still as he attempted to wipe off the residual color.

You stuck your tongue out at the frustrated man, taunting him. He responded with another wipe across your tastebuds, laughing as you recoiled from the taste.

Once he was satisfied with your now cleaner face he gathered the dirty wipes, throwing them in the bathroom trash can. He reached a hand down, tugging at the hem of your dress. 

You lifted your arms above your head, letting him pull the dress off of you. It hit the floor, a soft plop sounding as Bakugou pulled you down from the counter. Turning you around to face the mirror, he ran a hand over the gathered condensation. You watched through the foggy glass as his hands found the mess of curls pinned together on the top of your head. 

He took his time finding all the bobby pins hidden inside your hair, fingers grazing your scalp as he slowly uncovered all their hiding places. Each one he would find was placed on the countertop next to you, the pile slowly growing as each curl fell out of it's restrictions. Once he had found them all, he pulled the unraveled ponytail gingerly, freeing your messy hair. 

You handed him the brush, causing him to scoff. You could have brushed your hair yourself, but you were enjoying the feeling of your boyfriend's loving touch as he ran his fingers through your hair checking for any tangles. You watched him through the mirror, your loving gaze falling on his attentive hands as they smoothed over your hair as he brushed it out. The curls on your head increasing in volume as they separated. You hummed, enjoying the feeling of his warm touch.

Once he was done he set the brush down, pushing it back into it's respective place. “Now take a shower.” Bakugou looped a finger around the side of your panites, pulling them down around your ankles. His other hand pinched your bra clasp, undoing it for your convenience. Turning around, he walked back into the bedroom.

You kicked your underwear to the side, the pile of clothing growing in the corner of the room. Stepping over the side of the tub you let the water run over your back as you pulled the curtain closed.  After a moment you leaned back on the side of the shower, sliding down the wet wall until you were seated under the stream of running water. The warmth sank into your skin, relaxing you as you let the water run over your head.

Bakugou returned after a few minutes comfortably dressed in his pajamas. He pulled open the shower curtain slightly, chuckling as you turned around, still seated on the tub floor. “Are you not going to wash yourself, you’ve been dancing all night.” He rolled his eyes, as you shook your head. “Come here.” He sat down near the side of the bathtub, motioning for you to scoot over. 

He pressed down the pump of the shampoo, gathering a bit in his hand as you moved to sit next to him. He smoothed it down the back of your head, fingers digging into your wet hair as he lathered it. He tilted his head, looking around your shoulder as you pushed into his fingers. Your eyes closed in enjoyment as he scrubbed the hair spray from your wet locks. 

Standing up, he pulled the shower head off the stand, giving you a playful spray before sitting back down. He titled your head back, careful not to get any runoff in your eyes as he rinsed the shampoo from your hair. The bubbles building up around the drain as he pumped some conditioner into his free hand. He handed you the shower head, caulking his eyebrow when he saw the amusement dancing in your eyes. “You better not spray me F/N.”

You could see the line in front of you, and if it had been any other day you would have crossed it. But you were tired and so was Bakugou, now wasn’t the time to start another bathroom war. But you would put it on your to do list. You leaned over the side of the tub, pressing a wet kiss against his cheek. You giggled when he recoiled, wiping the wet mark dramatically before picking up the shower head to spray you again. 

He turned you around, shaking his head as you continued to giggle. He smoothed the conditioner into the ends of your hair, massaging it in. He took his time washing it out of your hair, taking in your peaceful presence. He rarely got moments like this with you, your hero work had kept the both of you busy. He would be lying if he said he didn’t wish for a normal domestic life with you from time to time. But he loved hero work, and he knew you would never ask for anything different. 

He reached for the blue bottle of face wash, popping the cap open and squeezing a small amount into the palm of his hand. He rubbed them together, forming a layer of bubbles as you turned around to face him. The same spacey smile lingering on your lips. He transferred the foam onto your wet cheeks, the pads of his fingers worked it into a lather on your face as he washed away the remaining makeup.

You once again fixed your eyes on the man before you, your heart swelling as he carefully rinsed the residual bubbled off your skin. Your mind repeating over and over the adorations you had for the love of your life. “Thank you Katsuki.” You whispered, tilting your head to meet his crimson gaze.  

“Come on princess.” He stood up, reaching over to shut off the shower. His fingers laced with yours as he helped you to stand, his other hand reaching for the towel that hung neatly on the rack. Draping it over your head, a soft smile flashed across his face before the towel dropped over your eyes. His hands gingerly held the sides of your head before roughly shaking it back and forth in an attempt to dry your dripping hair. 

Your hand shot up, pushing him off of you. You pulled the towel off your head, blinking a few times. You were sure the sudden whiplash had sobered you up a bit. “Jesus Kacchan, you’ll rip off my head doing it like that.” You complained, glaring at your boyfriend. 

“Do you want to do it yourself?” He threatened, meeting your glare.

You stuck out your bottom lip, shaking your head slightly. Your boyfriend hardly pampered you and you weren't ready to give up the sweet treatment just yet. You handed him back the towel, blushing as a deep chuckled bubbled up from his chest.

He wiped at the ends of your hair, collecting the dripping water. His hand reached around you grabbing at the loose end of the towel before tightly wrapping it around your frame. You took his open hand as he helped you step over the tub, the pad of his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand as he guided you out of the bathroom. 

He sat you down on your side of the bed as he let go of your hand. “Stay put.” Bakugou pulled the towel tighter around you as you settled into the bed in an attempt to keep you warm. He made his way towards your shared closet, turning on the light. His fingers grazed over your clothing feeling the different textures of the fabric that peaked out. He turned to his side, flipping to his night time shirts as he searched for your favorite UA shirt.

----

The shirt had a long history between you two, it had been with his as long as you had. It all started with your first day at UA together, you were standing next to him as they handed out the shirts for gym. You had been a last minute addition to the class transfering from a different school earlier in the year. They had to guess on your size when they ordered the shirts, and sadly they had guessed wrong. The shirt you got was far too small for you, or really anyone in the class. You had looked so disheartened telling your teacher it was ok, but you had really looked forward to finally having a piece of the school you dreamed of attending. 

It wasn’t until the year after that you and Bakugou had gotten together. Late after class you and him were walking back from the gym after a sparring session. You had sprung the question on him, “Bakugou, do you want to go out?” He tried to play it off like he didn’t care, but he could have thrown up from the nerves. When he got back to his dorm he unzipped his practice jacket and that was the shirt he was wearing. 

It was also the shirt he was wearing when he kissed you for the first time, the first time you spent the night, and the day he told you he loved you. It had been through it all and so had you. He retired the shirt years ago, throwing it to the back of the closet with his other mementos. But when you had moved in, it took you no time to find the heathered grey ball stuffed in the far corner of his belongings. He had come home from work one day to find you sitting on the bed with it in your arms. “I didn’t know you still had this.” You smiled up at him, hugging the old shirt.

He again played it off like he didn’t care, it was his usual approach to life. But he was pleasantly surprised to see you remembered it as fondly as he did. It quickly turned into your favorite item of clothing, finally having the shirt of your dreams in your grasp. He didn’t mind seeing you in it after a long day either. 

----

He thumbed over the cracked school lettering, a smile tugging at his lips as he remembered all the times you had forced him to keep the ratty thing. Finally he had just given it to you, it wasn’t his problem anymore. Or so he thought, you still hung it up on his side of the closet. 

“Put this on and let's go to…” He trailed off as he caught sight of you fast asleep on his side of the bed. Your soft snores barely audible as he set the shirt on the nightstand. “You were wide awake not even five minutes ago…” He groaned. He looked between the shirt and the towel loosely wrapped around your body. After a moment of debate he decided to let you sleep in the towel, the thought of wrestling you into some actual clothing giving him a headache. 

He was ready to crawl into bed when he realized you had yet to do your skincare routine for the night. You had an extensive routine, the products taking up much of the bathroom counter space. You swore by them, stating that image was an important part of being a hero. He reached over to wake you up, hand stopping a few inches from your shoulder. “Tch, idiot.”

He now found himself looking over the stack of products shoved in the corner of the counter top, trying to remember all the items you used for this process. “Why do you have so much shit Y/N?” He grumbled, pulling out everything he faintly remembered ,carrying it to the bedroom.

He sat down on the bed next to you, the mattress dipping as he let the products rest in his lap. He hated the fact that he would do anything for you, this included. You were definitely going to hear about it in the morning. He picked up the pink spray bottle first, recalling it as the first item in your multistep night time routine. He gave your face a few spaced out sprays, retracting the bottle when you stirred.

“Uh, next is this green shit I think…” He mumbled, mentally recalling all the nights you had tried to force this on his face. Picked up the small green glass bottle, he looked over the bright pink lettering on the front. He unscrewed the top, resting his finger over the entrance as he turned it over. He dabbed the liquid left on his finger over your face, smoothing it into your skin. 

He set down the green bottle, his fingers still lingering on the underside of your jaw as he reached for the next product. He fumbled with a tall blue pump serum, his hands slick from the remaining skin product. He had bought this last bottle for you when he went in for hair gel, the price almost sending him into cardiac arrest. He never understood the price differences and why you couldn’t just buy the “knock off”, but it was your money. He repeated the process with the milky liquid, making sure to spread it evenly over your now dewy skin. He traced over your freckles that dotted your nose, his finger trailing down the bridge lightly. They had become more vivid since the beginning of summer, he loved the fact that he was lucky enough to be close enough to you day after day to notice something like that. 

“Almost done with this stupid shit…” Bakugou grumbled, unscrewed the lid of your moisturizer before dipping his fingers in the thick mixture. He dotted it around your soft skin, rubbing it in as he counted his blessings that you didn’t have more to do. 

He stood up again, holding the products against his chest. He gave you one last look over, smiling to himself. “Dumbass.” He softly chuckled, making his way towards the bathroom.

Once everything was put away he made his way back into the room. Shutting off the lights as he made his way towards the bed. Crawling in beside you he pushed you over to your side of the bed. As he sank into the sheets he thought of the black velvet box tucked inside of his coat pocket in the hallway closet. His fingers grazed your own under the comforter, tangling together. “You're gonna say yes huh?” He let his eyelids close as he chuckled to himself, thinking of the weekend ahead. 

[rottingsparrow]

Oh boy oh boy here it is my thoughts on Lore Olympus episodes 1-10 I didn't include any pictures because I'm figuring out how I wanna do this also im tired but here it is:

Episode One: Stag, You’re It

Why the title

Minthes hair like connects to her head without a line not bad just a comment

Hades’ sharp ass nose but I enjoy the colors, not super bright yknow

Hera looks so cool but also like snatched almost unnaturally

She is a god tho so

Zeus lets goooo such a solid color imo

Im sorry but artemis’ hair is a lil ugly

Love that all the main characters are snatched /s

Episode Two: Who is She?

And Persophone is now 3 shades lighter ok

Also like i hate the dress Artemis gives persephone it ugly

Persophones hair changed lengths like 2 times but maybe im seeing it wrong

Also artemis if she doesnt wanna be here leave wtf

How is. How is hades holding his drink

Zeus changed colors king

I understand lighting and shading but like. Damn

Ok so if Poseidon hates Odysseus does that mean the events of the Odyssey already happened

Ep 3: Who is She pt 2

LMAO what is hades’ nose

Why did she have random parts w/ no color not a complaint just curious

HER FOREHEAD SO LARGE IN THIS ONE PANEL

“Short sighted” Do we ever see him wear glasses again

Zeus’ lil. Hair thingies keep disappearing

“Honestly i think she puts Aphrodite to shame” wow comparing women/hj

Seriously tho like. why

Ep 4: Who is she pt 3

Idk why she does random scenes where the characters are all like just one color. Not bad per say but weird

Gives artemis huge boobs and in one panel they are either smaller or gone

Artemis bestie if that one thing distracts you from your friend you gotta get ur priorities straight

“Hey kiddo wanna have some real fun” ew

Omg purple eros

So much hair

Did she just give her hair powers so she could draw diff styles lets be honest

Ep 5:

Aphrodites hip angle is so sharp it could kill me

“Friggin” makes my mind go to supernatural and i dont appreciate it

Omg shes a cinnamon roll shes so adorable and gorgeous and yet sexy and *i get shot*

Mother emotionally guilting her son omg its my life

The listen panel. Haunts my dreams

Why does she have so many different painting/coloring styles

LMAO LOOK AT HADES ON THE BALCONY its. Its bad

Ep 6

W hy do they stand like that persephone pls

Love demeters colors tho

This is. This is the metaphor for the maidenhood thing right

Thats how i always saw it

Wow persephone you just woke up and you look so pretty wowww woww

Rachel rachel please does her hair have bangs or not just choose

I do actually like the panel with cerberus, persephone, and hades its nice

Ep 7

Cerberus is so cute

Hades shut the fuck up

The coat is cute

Persephone get off the counter this isnt ur house

Whos minthe? Stop being nosy damn

Didnt really have much to say bout this one

Ep 8

Why are both their eyes open i know they arent in love but that so weird right

Is his dick out or is she just naked on him

“Salutiations” old man

Every second i read persephones eyes get bigger

“I would pay you a salary to barge in on every single aspect of my life” is actually cute however. You literally just met her she hasnt even introduced herself

I dont understand why he thought she meant sex idk

I like that his business card has diff names for him

SHE WAS HOLDING HERS IN HER TITTY WHY

Ep 9

Persephone giggling over that is kinda weird imo but whatever

Persephone please pic a face shape

“Come here puppy” look. Look at her face. Wtf

Train ur dogs hades smh

We never see like any of these dogs fuck you rachel i want dogs

“Let the unionize see if i care” haha so funny haha wow so. So funny. Hades ur such a character

Why is her mouth so high up in this one panel

Hehe puppy

Man in bushes

Ep 10

Why does he have so many cars he doesnt need em

The little :p panel is cute

NOT HER FACE AGAIN RACHEL PLEASE JUST LOOK ONCE MORE

Stop yelling hades

Persephones hair is looking bad rn ngl

I love the colors of the underworld tbh

Rachel please go in depth on how you travel there between realms i am so curious

Artemis randomly gains bangs

I know her hair was flowing but her bangs are too short to completely disappear

Why do his eyes randomly turn red honestly

Goodbye thank god

[tricksters-captain]

Bucky Barnes imagines - Some Sunny Day Part 6

AN: And it all comes to an end....

Overall Summary: Before the Blip, you and Bucky were close. After you both returning and Tony’s funeral, you decided to go back to your home town to spend time with your family. When duty calls, you return.  

In this chapter: An attack in Manhattan brings the gang back together for their final fight against Karli. (Based on S1 EP6)

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3) (PART 4) (PART 5)

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Sam Wilson x Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 3,897 

Warnings: Spoilers for episode 6, Violence, some strong language, fluff

“Hello?” You put the phone on speaker as you answered it. 

“I got a hit.” Sam informed you. You looked towards Bucky who had just put both your bags down by the couch. 

“What is it?” You asked. 

“Karli’s in New York. I think they’re gonna hit the GRC meeting.” 

“Makes sense.” Bucky tilted his head, pressing his lips into a thin line. 

“Right. We’ll suit up and meet you there?” You moved toward your bag to get your things. 

“With these new wings, I may even beat you.” You could practically hear Sam’s smirk through the phone. You hung up and immediately started to change. 

By the time you were kitted up and ready to go, the news had announced the GRC meeting had gone into a complete lockdown. 

“Guess Sam was right.” You switched off the tv and picked up your final knife. 

To get you down to the building quickly, you hijacked a motorbike. When you arrived there were swarms of news anchors and cops. 

You dismounted the bike and headed to the front of the crowds. 

“I’m almost there.” Sam’s voice came through on your coms. 

“What’s the plan?” Bucky asked as he walked beside you. 

“Karli’s gotta be close. Keep your eyes open.” Sam ordered. Your eyes began to search the surrounding areas. 

“Well, it could be anybody.” Bucky mumbled. He was right. Karli had a huge following, she didn’t even need to be here but you were praying she would be. 

“And by the way, I called in some backup.” Sam informed you both. 

Then, at that moment, a stranger approached the both of you. 

“Excuse me, sir. Are you supposed to be here?” The man asked before reaching to his face and removing the illusion mask. “It’s me.” Sharon was revealed underneath. 

“Sharon, what the hell are you doing here?” You asked, looking around to see if anyone had been watching. 

“Relax. No one’s looking for me here.” Sharon assured you both. 

“Is that Sharon?” Sam had recognised her voice over the coms.

“Unfortunately.” Bucky retorted. 

“Hey, Sam. I thought I’d get the band back together.” Sharon made herself known to him. 

“Thank you. You’re risking a lot coming here.” Sam thanked her. 

“I hear pardons aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.” Sharon tried making light of her being back whilst still being a fugitive. 

“Depends on the therapist.” Bucky proclaimed. You ignored the comment as you continued to survey the scene. 

“They’ll move on the building soon. Be ready.” Sam warned you as he grew closer. And he was right. Within the building, gas was let off which set off a panic. The building had to be evacuated. 

“(Y/n), Bucky, what’s going on on your end?” Sam had entered the building through the window where the hostages were being ushered towards the stairs. 

“Nothing. All quiet.” Bucky told Sam. 

“No one’s moving toward the building.” You added as you patrolled alongside Sharon and Bucky. 

“Karli’s not coming in. She’s trying to force everybody out.” Sam had realised Karli’s plan. You looked between Bucky and Sharon. Time for you to go in. yourselves. 

“You guys are gonna have to do something.” Sam’s voice came through as you entered the doors.  “Don’t let ’em out of the building.”

“Oops.” Sharon said after realising you just let out several people.

“There’s one of em.” Bucky pointed across the building to an impressively large guard. “I’ll get the evac.” 

“I’m with Bucky.” You followed Bucky towards the stairwell. 

As you were just around to reach the stairs, a woman came forward with a phone. 

“Mr. Barnes, it’s Karli.” She handed the phone over to Bucky. 

“I’ll go.” You let him take the call and continued to pursue the hostages. 

You reached the underground parking lot in time to see the hostages being loaded up into police trucks. 

You knew you couldn’t take on all the guards at once and you’d only cause a panic with the hostages, forcing them to run off in different directions and you weren’t even sure which guards were Karli’s and which were the GRCs. 

You clocked the large guard from before that Sharon was meant to have gone after. He was applying some sort of lock onto the back of the trucks. 

As the final guards climbed into the trucks, you took your shot. You silently ran up behind the large man and forced yourself up onto his back, your hands grabbing onto the guards face. He cried out as he threw you off but the connection was just enough to use your powers. 

You fell to the floor, his memories tunnelling through your head like a bullet. He sent his boot into your stomach several times before leaving you. The trucks had already driven away and you remained on the floor so he didn’t bother with killing you. 

You searched his memories for Karli’s plan. 

“Sam.” You wheezed. “I know what Karli is planning to do.” 

“What? How?” Sam responded through your ear piece, sounding concerned. 

“She used her powers.” Sharon piped up. You looked around the garage to see her hiding behind a large concrete pillar with her eyes on the guard. 

“I’m sending you the coordinates for their rendezvous now.” You typed over the coordinates on your arm pad. 

Bucky finally made it down to you and helped you from the floor. 

“You can’t fight anymore. You gotta sit this one out.” Bucky told you as the look of exhaustion was obvious on your face. 

“Shut up and get moving.” You weren’t having any of it. You moved towards the bikes and Bucky climbed on in front. 

You pulled out a small syringe from the inside of your jacket and Bucky cocked an eyebrow at it. 

“In case of emergencies, right?” You stabbed the syringe into your thigh and injected the serum. It was a serum that Bruce Banner had worked on with you for these dire times. It gave you enough energy after using your powers to allow you to fight again. There were only a handful of them and the come down afterwards was worse than anything you had experienced but it kept you in the game when you needed it most. 

Bucky set off on route to the hostages. 

You gripped onto him tightly as he sped through the alleys and roads. 

“You better speed things up, Sam. The choppers about to take off.” You heard Sharon warn Sam. 

“Bucky?” Sam called out through the coms.

“I don’t fly, man. That’s your thing.” Bucky wasn’t going to be any help now that he was almost at the rendezvous point anyway.

You spotted the trucks up ahead along with large concrete road blocks. 

“Drop me here.” You told Bucky as you were far enough away for them to not have seen you yet. Bucky did as he was told before speeding off ahead. 

You ran down the sidewalk to keep yourself hidden. The flag smashers should be too busy dealing with Bucky to realise you were going after the trucks. 

You reached one of the trucks only to find it the locks were impenetrable. It then didn’t take long for one of the super soldiers to find you. You ducked as she sent her fist towards you. You pulled out your knives, one in each hand, and began to attack. 

Suddenly, a fire rose beside the truck. 

“Bucky!” You shouted out as you fought. You knew only he could open those doors with his strength and his arm. 

The soldier managed to get a grip on your shoulder and tossed you across the street like a pillow. You groaned as your body collided with the concrete. 

“Morgenthau!” You recognised the voice as it cried out Karli’s name. It was Walker. 

You pushed yourself to your feet and ran back over to the fight. Bucky was desperately trying to open the doors to the truck and John had started to attack Karli. 

You lunged forward as John hit the floor, surrounded by the soldiers. 

One broke away to fight you. 

You growled and grunted as you brought forth all the power you had in you to fight the soldier. 

Bucky had saved the hostages inside the burning truck and had come through to help John also. 

You grew distracted when you witnessed Bucky falling into the building site. 

The soldier took advantages of your loss of focus and managed to put you to the floor with a solid punch to the side of your head. 

You vision went spotted and blurred and your head pounded as you lulled on the ground. You were unsure of how long you were lying there when you felt someone take your arm and drag you along the concrete towards one of the trucks. 

Karli pulled the drivers door open and shoved you into the passenger seat before climbing in herself. She reached across you and crushed the handle so you couldn’t get out. 

Your vision began to clear just as Karli threw herself from the vehicle. 

The truck crashed through the gates and down onto the scaffolding. You clung onto the seat as you leant back to stop the truck from moving any further forward. 

“Stay calm!” You snapped at the screaming hostages but the truth was you weren’t feeling calm yourself.

You could see Bucky beneath you.

 It was one high drop. 

You wouldn’t survive this fall. Not sitting in the front. Not at this height with the weight of this machinery. 

“Fuck.” You cussed under your breath as your heart thudded against your chest. Bucky could see you inside and he felt his whole body tremble. 

You locked your eyes with his. You didn’t want to go. You only just got him back. 

Suddenly, the truck shifted again but this time it was being dragged backwards. You glanced to the side view mirror to see John trying to save you. 

You couldn’t help but gasp when the flag smashers tore him away from the truck. They all tumbled down to the pit. You squeezed your eyes shut as the truck rolled forward again. 

You were thrown forward onto the glass of the windshield when the truck abruptly stopped.

You opened your eyes to see that Sam had finally made it. 

“Cutting it a little close, aren’t we?” You let out a shaky laugh as relief washed over you. 

 Sam managed to get the truck up safely. You escaped through the drivers door and embraced him. 

“Looking good.” You smiled at the suit. Sam only winked before taking you down to Karli. 

He threw the shield, hitting each flag smasher as he put you down. 

“You of all people bought into that bullshit?” Karli looked beyond betrayed at Sam’s new look. 

 “I’m trying something different. Maybe you should do the same.” Sam retorted. 

Just as you went to step forward, smoke bombs were sent down on top of you. It gave Karli the chance to get away. 

Fortunately, Sam could use his goggles to track them. 

“Hey, Sharon. We’re underground. We entered the tunnel on William. Heading south.” Sam informed Sharon on your position as you all made your way through the tunnel. “Looks like they split up. Here.” Sam stopped at an intersection. 

John took off without a word. Bucky looked back at you and Sam. 

“I got it.” He sighed before following. 

“I’ll head this way. Don’t hesitate to call if you need me.” You broke off in the opposite way to Bucky and John whilst Sam went up ahead.  You kept your guard up as you silently made your way around the place. It was like a maze and you had kept running into dead ends. 

You cussed as you wished you had the app for the flag smashers in order to receive any news. It was the only way them and you would know the new meet up point. 

“(Y/n), we found Karli’s team.” Bucky sent you the location. You hesitated to follow as a bad feeling began to seep into you. “(Y/n)?” Bucky questioned if you could hear him.

“On my way.” You replied, ultimately deciding to join back with Bucky, ignoring your instinct.

When you reached Bucky and Walker, the soldiers had been apprehended. 

“Good job, boys.” You congratulated them. “Sam? Any news?” You asked over the coms. 

“I’ve got Karli. She didn’t make it.” Sam’s news made your stomach drop.

Karli didn’t make it. She didn’t make it.

“Hey, come here.” Bucky pulled you into his chest after he saw your face drain of colour. All that was playing through your head was the girl’s memories of Karli. Karli playing with the children, her smile, her laughter, her passion. 

You forced them from your mind as you made your way to the surface. Ambulances, cop cars and the press had all moved location from the GRC meeting to there. 

Your eyes followed everyone’s gaze as Sam came into view. 

He flew down to the ground with Karli’s body in his arms. 

You felt Bucky slide his fingers down your wrist and take your hand, squeezing it tightly. 

When Sam’s feet touched the ground he was ambushed with questions from reporters. He approached the senators without answering any of them. 

He was thanked by them before he asked about the relocating plans.

“Our peacekeeping troops will begin relocating people soon.” He was told. 

“The terrorists only set us back a bit––”

“––Stop calling them terrorists.” Sam interrupted

“What else would we call them?” They questioned. 

“Your peacekeeping troops carrying weapons are forcing millions of people into settlements around the world, right? What do you think those people are gonna call you? These labels, “terrorists,” “refugee,” “thug,” they’re often used to get around the question, why?” Sam started,

“Those settlements that happened five years ago, do you think it is fair for governments to have to support them?” They argued against him. 

“Yes.” Sam spoke honestly. 

"And the people who reappeared only to find someone else living in their family home, they just end up homeless? Look, I get it. But you have no idea how complicated this situation is.” They tried to put Sam down but Sam wasn’t walking away. 

“You know what? You’re right. And that’s a good thing. We finally have a common struggle now. Think about that. For once, all the people who’ve been begging, and I mean, literally begging for you to feel how hard any given day is… Now you know. How did it feel to be helpless? Now if you could remember what it was like to be helpless and face a force so powerful it could erase half the planet, you would know that you’re about to have the exact same impact. This isn’t about easy decisions, Senator.”

“You don’t understand.” They grumbled. 

“I’m a Black man carrying the stars and stripes. What don’t I understand? Every time I pick this thing up, I know there are millions of people who are gonna hate me for it. Even now, here… I feel it. The stares, the judgment. And there’s nothin’ I can do to change it. Yet, I’m still here. No super serum, no blond hair, or blue eyes. The only power I have is that I believe we can do better. We can’t demand that people step up if we don’t meet them halfway. Look, you control the banks. Shit, you can move borders! You can knock down a forest with an email, you can feed a million people with a phone call. But the question is, who’s in the room when you make those decisions? Hmm? Is it the people you’re gonna impact? Or is it just more people like you?” Sam paused. “I mean, this girl died trying to stop you, and no one has stopped for one second to ask why. You’ve gotta do better, Senator. You’ve gotta step up. Because if you don’t, the next Karli will. And you don’t wanna see 2.0. People believed in her cause so much that they helped her defy the strongest governments in the world. Why do you think that is? Look, you people have just as much power as an insane god or a misguided teenager. The question you have to ask yourself is, ‘How are you going to use it’?” 

You smiled widely at Sam as he finished, walking away. He really was Captain America. 

“Sorry, I was, uh, I was texting and so, all I heard was, um, a Black guy in stars and stripes.” Bucky teased the man as he approached you. 

You wrapped your arm around Sam, half embracing him as Bucky patted him on the back. 

“Nice job, Cap.” Bucky smiled. 

“Thanks.” Sam took the compliment. 

“Sharon?” You smile dropped when you spotted Sharon trying to perform her own medical procedures beside a car. 

“Your blocking my light.” Sharon hissed as she fiddled with her wounds. 

“We gotta get you to a hospital.” Sam frowned at the state of her. 

“She’s not gonna listen.” Bucky stated flatly. 

“It’s not the worst thing that’s happened to me all week.” Sharon admitted, avoiding the mention of the hospital. 

“Told you.” Bucky quipped. 

“Uh, Cap?” A man came forward, interrupting for a moment. 

“I think he’s talking to you.” Sharon turned her face away to not risk getting recognised.  “Look, I’m sorry for how things ended down there. For what it’s worth, suit looks good on you.”

“Thanks.” Sam chuckled. 

“All right, look, can we get out of here, please?” Bucky ushered Sharon to move. 

“I didn’t forget my promise.” Sam turned to remind Sharon of his promise to get her a pardon before he left. 

You decided to take Sharon back to the apartment and fix her up there. You had enough supplies and the experience to do an adequate job of it. 

“What now? Back to Madripoor?” You asked Sharon as you cup open her top. 

“Seems like it.” She winced as she spoke.

“Sam will get you that pardon. You might as well stick around.” Bucky returned to your side with a bowl of water and a cloth. 

You worked in silence for a few minutes before Sharon realised something. She had been watching Bucky watch you. 

“You finally slept together, didn’t you?” Sharon smirked as it hit her. 

“Oh my god.” You groaned, rolling your head back. 

“I mean I knew something was different...” Sharon’s smart mouth was quickly shut as you pressed into her wound.

“I’ll get us something to drink.” Bucky excused himself as he felt a blush creep up his neck.

“Bout time.” Sharon murmured but it was the last she mentioned it after the glare you shot her. 

Sharon didn’t stick around after you stitched her up. You understood why but you were still hesitant to let her leave. 

As she did, you started to really feel the come down effects of the serum. 

“Hey. Hey.” Bucky caught you as you began to sway on your feet. He sat you down on his coach and placed his hand on your head. “You’re burning up.”

“It’s the serum.” You reminded him. It had been a long time since you used it last. 

Sweat covered down your forehead and soaked your clothes. Your body ached, it felt like it was on fire, and your head was hammering.

Bucky helped you remove your clothes before wrapping a thin blanket around you. He fetched a cloth to rest on your forehead as you laid back. 

His face twisted into a grimace as you began to scream and whine, writhing in front of him. 

And there was nothing he could do but watch.

The pain of the serum leaving your body was excruciating. Bucky brought over the bin as you had flimsily pointed to it. You curled over the side of the couch and threw up. 

Bucky brushed your hair away from your face with his hand and held it behind your head. 

“I forget how bad this got.” Bucky confessed as you choked.

The rest of the night was spent like that until you eventually fell asleep against Bucky’s bare chests whilst he held you. The coldness of his metal arm was refreshing against your burning skin. 

In the morning, you woke to the news that the captured super soldiers had been blown up on their way to the raft. 

It was announced there were no suspects but both you and Bucky knew exactly who was responsible. 

Zemo. 

“There’s somethings I gotta do today.” Bucky told you as he brushed his lips against your hair. 

“You want me to come with you?” You asked. You were weak but you were better after suffering through the night. 

“No. It’s something I gotta do it on my own.” Bucky intertwined his fingers with yours as you rested against him. 

“Okay.” You nodded. “But I’m here if you need me.” 

“I know.” Bucky kissed the back of your hand before pushing himself off the couch. “Now let’s get you in the shower because you stink.” 

You laughed as Bucky helped you up.

Bucky told you in the bathroom about his neighbour. He offered for you to see the memories you had missed since you last used your powers on him but you didn’t want to be informed on every thought/memory he had during the time you were away.

He told you what his plans were. It had been a long time since he had been this open. 

You spent the rest of the morning cleaning yourself and then the apartment. Bucky helped before you finally encouraged him to get on with his day. 

He didn’t return until late. 

He walked through the door and you could see his hands were shaking still. 

You didn’t say anything. You just hugged him. 

The days went by and soon enough you were being called by Sam again. 

He had invited you for a little celebration down at the dock. So, you travelled back down to Louisiana and back into Sam’s home town. 

The children instantly went for Bucky as you both arrived. You laughed as he chased after them with a cake in his hands. 

“Where is everybody?” Bucky asked them. 

Sam and Sarah embraced the both of you warmly and an overwhelming sense of love flooded around you. 

Pictures were being taken with Sam, the food was amazing, the beer was cold and it was a beautiful evening. 

You were stood against one of the wooden pillars, watching Bucky speak with Sarah, a couple kids dangling on his arm. You smiled and took a swig from your bottle.

“Don’t get soppy on me now.” Sam joined you, sipping on his own beer.

“Me? Soppy?” You scoffed, shaking your head. 

Sam rolled his eyes as he draped his arm over your shoulders. You leant into his embrace. 

“I visited the memorial for Isaiah in the museum.” You confessed.  

“Yeah?” Sam cocked his eyebrow at you with a smile. 

“It’s a great thing you’ve done for that man.” You praised him. “I’m proud of you, Captain America.” 

Sam clutched his heart with his hand dramatically. 

“My god!” He proclaimed. 

“Shut up.” You nudged him with your hip. You both laughed before making your way down the dock to watch the sunset. 

Bucky joined you. 

It felt good to be there. It felt like home. 

AN: To be continued?? I’ll probably leave this fic here for now but I may continue it on in the future.

Bucky Barnes Tag List

@florencxs @mystictimetravelcolor @yourphotographyteen16@shannon-posts@darkbluenovember @sexwithhiddlesbatch@thefandomimagines @mydarkness-itsnotmyfriend @sad-huffle-nerd @glitchingghosts @themaddies-obx @avenging-parker@delilahsdaydream @felicityofbakerstreet @purplewcrld @opheliaaaa @avisexe @lindseyrae20 @thanossexual @smolanxiousdeku @soccer-100000 @peachyxlynch​ @mads-weasley @zozebo @so-very-asleep @sebby-staan @missroro @bibliophilewednesday @ysywyw626 @serrendipiity

[girlwiththereapertattoo]

begin again - part four

Jax Teller x female!Reader

Summary: After the return of her abusive ex-boyfriend, the reader plots her escape

Word count: 2,9k words

Warnings: bad language, alludes to the death of a minor character, physical & verbal abuse & kinda angsty

Author's note: Enjoy the fourth installment and all feedback is welcome! :)

If you’re in an abusive relationship or you suspect that someone you know is being abused, speak up and reach out to the correct people!

Beta read by @crucifixedbitch

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

💀💀💀💀💀

You examine your face in the mirror, pleased with the job you’ve done to conceal the marks left by B/N. Last night was brutal and you would do anything to erase it from your memory. To never have it happen again.

“Toots!” A loud pounding sounds on the bathroom door, “Come on, sweetheart, we’ve got to go.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I-I’ll be there in a second.” Moving quickly, you pack your makeup back into your cosmetic bag. “I just need to grab my bag.”

“Five minutes, okay?” he sounds irritated with you. “We’ll wait outside.”

With a shaking hand, you zip the bag closed and leave the bathroom for the bedroom. Your handbag is on the bed but your phone’s not on its usual spot at your bedside table and you just know B/N has something to do with its disappearance. And you know that it’ll be a while before you see it again. You’re so upset, it brings tears to your eyes but there’s no time for them. He’s waiting for you and being late will lead to trouble.

S/N and B/N are on the small patch of grass outside the house, kicking around a ball.

“You gotta kick the ball to me, okay kid? You gotta kick it hard.”

S/N scurries towards the ball and kicks it so hard, it zooms between B/N’s open legs and bounces off of the fence. They both cheer from excitement, and S/N runs straight into B/N’s open arms.

“That was amazing, buddy!”

You clap your hands, drawing their attention to you.

“Did you see that, Mommy?”

“I did, ace, and it was so good.” You walk over to join them on the grass, “Hey, sweet boy.”

You haven’t seen your son all morning. You lift him off the ground and hug him to your chest, it feels good to hold him so close to you, and for the second time in the last five minutes, you feel you might cry. The three of you make your way over to B/N’s rental SUV parked on the small driveway.

“Mommy, are you feeling cold?”

You briefly glance over to B/N who’s prepping the baby car seat. “A little. Mommy’s not feeling too well.”

“Do you need chicken soup?”

You chuckle and press a kiss to his forehead, “Will you help me make it when we get back?”

He pinky promises you to. You hand him over to B/N who buckles him into the car seat. It’s not his intention, but you can’t help but feel humiliated by S/N’s question. A turtleneck and jeans in the dead of the summer in Charming, California? That’s sure to raise suspicions.

“Baby, do you not think I should stay behind?”

B/N turns in his seat, brows furrowed in confusion. “Why?”

Pointing at your turtle neck, you explain, “It’s going to draw attention. It’s summer and I’m dressed for winter.”

“And you care what these people think of you?”

Yes, a lot. It’s your fucking hometown, of course, you care! You want to scream at him, claw at his face, but you’re weak. Pathetic. You can’t even muster the courage to get away from him.

“Sweetheart, no one’s going to be looking at you. Trust me.”

Ouch.

“Don’t ruin this outing by being so self-obsessed.” He starts the car’s engine and backs out of the driveway, “Do you want to listen to some music, buddy?”

Today’s your last day in Charming, B/N’s orders. Later on today, you’ll embark on a five-day road trip back to North Carolina. The idea of being trapped in the car with B/N has you regretting every decision you have made in your life that has led you to this point. Forty fucking hours? The car just isn’t big enough and no amount of eagerness from S/N can change your mind.

“When we get back, I need to see Mabel.”

Mabel’s a friendly neighbor who lives down the street from your mother’s. She moved to Charming a few months before your escape to Charlotte, and since your return, she has been a great help.

“Who’s Mabel?”

“She lives down the road.”

“Why do you need to see her?”

To use her phone to call Jax. “I want to give all my mother’s old furniture to charity. She offered to help me organize it.” It’s a believable lie, “It shouldn’t take more than ten minutes.”

After a dragged-out silence, he murmurs a soft ‘okay’ and warns you not to do anything stupid. “I might not be able to stop myself this time around.”

The chilling part is that it’s not an empty threat. You look back at S/N who’s softly singing along to ‘Old MacDonald Had A Farm’, gazing out the car window. Leaving Charming was a decision you made for his sake, to protect him from his father’s world. To give him a shot at a normal childhood, to raise him away from gangs and violence. Instead, you found yourself in the clutches of a wicked man who will one day kill you.

“Mommy, will we see Abel before we leave?”

“No,” B/N responds before you can.

God, you fucking hate him. Your feelings towards him are violent, and you’ve got to come out of the car before you act recklessly.

“Stop the car.” You unbuckle your seatbelt prompting the seatbelt alarm to go off. “Stop the car, B/N, now!”

He pulls into the empty parking space in front of a bridal shop. You frantically open the car door and stumble out of the vehicle, gasping for air. So glad to have distance from the devil you call your boyfriend.

“Toots, what’s wrong?”

You take a step away from him, needing the space. “I need to breathe, B/N.”

That upsets him. “What are you trying to do? Huh? Get in the fucking car so I can drive to the grocery store.”

You pace around in a circle on the sidewalk, contemplating your next move. You can’t run off, B/N could easily catch you and S/N’s still in the car. You can’t leave him, even though you know B/N would never harm him. He loves him too much. Think, think, think! You have a moment of clarity when you look across the street and see who you believe to be Bobby Munson sitting at an ice cream shop. What are the odds?

“Ice cream and candy!” You spin to look at B/N who’s shooting daggers at you. “I want ice cream and we need candy for the road trip, don’t we?”

“What are you doing, Y/N?”

You walk back to the car to open S/N’s door and start unbuckling him from his car seat. “D’you want ice cream, ace?”

His face lights up. “Ice cream! Ice cream!” he chants.

“Alright. Come on.” You shut the car door, S/N clutched tightly in your arms, “It’s just a small pit stop. Do you want any?”

B/N looks furious but there isn’t much he can do to you out in the open. He’s starting towards you when his work phone starts ringing. He has to take the call and so he tells you to go ahead, he’ll meet you inside the shop. You flash him a smile and make your way to Scoops & Sweets. Now that you’re closer, you’re certain it’s Bobby, and he’s standing behind the counter with his arm in a sling, drinking beer.

“Bobby?”

“Y/N?” His stony expression morphs into a smile, “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi, Bobby.” For the first time in the last 12 hours, you feel safe. “I thought it was you.”

“Who’s the kid?”

“This is S/N,” you look proudly at your son. “Say hello to Bobby, ace?”

Bashful, he waves awkwardly at Bobby before concealing his face in the crook of your neck. You casually look over your shoulder to check if B/N’s still on his call before you turn back to Bobby.

“Bobby, is there a phone I can use? I want to call Jax, there’s something I want to tell him, and my phone’s broken.”

He looks out the window to B/N who’s pacing next to the rental. “Why didn’t you ask your friend to use his phone?”

“He doesn’t like to share.”

Bobby looks back at you. “Jax’s upstairs. Come, I’ll take you up to him. Bring the kid.”

Bobby calls for Chuckie who emerges from what you assume to be the staff break room. When you last saw Chuckie, he had fingers.

“What happened to your fingers?”

“Chinese cut them off,” he holds up his prosthetic hands. “These were a gift from Gemma.”

You regret asking. Bobby orders him to keep watch of the shop and starts leading you towards the flight of stairs.

“Uh Chuckie, a man will come in here looking for me. Could you tell him I went into the bathroom?”

Chuckie nods and you continue on your way with Bobby.

“Is this the new clubhouse?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Bobby leads you and S/N down a short hallway and stops in front of a closed door. He knocks once before he opens it, “Visitor for Jax Teller.”

The men in the room, consisting of Jax, Chibs, Tig, Happy, and Juice, all turn to the door. From their expressions, you’d swear they’ve just seen a ghost. You might as well be a ghost.

Jax raises off his chair and crosses the space to join you at the door. “Is everything okay?”

“Hi, boys. I’m sorry for interrupting your meeting,” suddenly, coming to Jax seems like a bad idea. But B/N. You put S/N on the ground. “I just wanted to see you before we leave this afternoon.”

Jax scowls.

“We’re headed back home to North Carolina. Driving.” You throw your arms around your ex, wincing at the discomfort you feel at the contact. “I’m so glad I could see you again.”

He returns your hug, holding you flush against him and you don’t care that you’re in pain. You’re vaguely aware of the fact that the bottom hem of your sweater’s risen, probably exposing the bruises on your lower back. There’s a pang of pain in your heart when he releases you. The tears blur your vision. God, you hate that you’re so emotional today.

“How are you getting home?”

“B/N arrived last night, he’s waiting for us downstairs.” Probably impatient and suspicious. “We should probably get going.”

Downstairs, B/N’s at the counter listening to Chuckie recount the time he had his fingers cut off by Lin’s men. S/N leaps out of your arms and runs over to B/N.

“Here’s your candy.” Chuckie slides two bags of candy to you, “Don’t worry about paying, it’s on the house.”

You smile at him. “Thank you.”

B/N snatches the candy from the counter and the three of you make your way out of the shop. It’s a short trip to the grocery store and luckily for you, there aren’t a lot of people buying groceries whilst you’re there. The tension from earlier has subsided, and the ride back to your mother’s house is a sing-along with S/N leading you. You’re helping B/N unload the bag of groceries from the car when you spot a familiar van at the end of your street.

“When will you go to Mabel’s?”

“After lunch,” you start unpacking the groceries, “I’m sure you boys are hungry.”

“Starving.” He leans over to press a kiss to the side of your head, “I’ll have a beer with my lunch.”

He leaves you in the kitchen to join S/N who’s building Lego in the living room. You’ve just finished laying all the lunch ingredients on the counter when you hear the thunderous roar of a motorcycle outside your house. Shortly after, a knock sounds.

“I’ll get it,” you call from the kitchen.

Unfortunately, B/N beats you to the door. He angrily signals for you to go back into the kitchen.

“Do as you’re fucking told,” he warns through gritted teeth. “Go back to the kitchen.”

You open your mouth to protest but he marches over to you, grabbing your arm harshly, and drags you through the kitchen to the laundry nook.

“You’re hurting me!” you complain, struggling in his firm grip.

The sound of the back of his hand connecting with your cheek bounces off the walls of the small space. You forcefully shove him away from you and try to escape but he hooks a strong arm around your waist and hauls you back into the nook.

“Let go of me!” you claw at his arms and the pain causes him to release you.

“You little bitch!”

He lunges towards you but you’re quicker than him. You grab the first item in your reach which happens to be an iron and whack him on the head with enough force to make him cry out from the pain. You dash past him and run to open the front door at the same time Jax is about to shoot at the door.

His scowl deepens at your disheveled appearance. “Where is he?”

“In the laundry nook. I hit him on the head but he’s still conscious.”

“Where is the kid?”

S/N! You run into the living room, your eyes frantically searching around the space for your little boy. His Legos are strewn on the floor but there’s no sight of him. “S/N?”

“Mommy!”

He’s behind the couch. You find him curled up, his eyes closed and his hands covering his ears.

“My baby.” You scoop him in your arms and carry him towards the front door. “Jax?”

He calls back from the kitchen and tells you to go outside. “Rat’s got the van out front.”

“But Jax–”

“Go!”

You rush out of the house, S/N cradled in your arms. You’ve just stepped onto the patch of grass when you hear grunts coming from the house. Ratboy meets you at the gate and takes S/N from your shaking hands to carry to the van. He helps you into the vehicle before he climbs into the driver’s seat.

“Where are you taking us?”

“Gemma’s.”

💀💀💀💀💀

S/N and Abel are asleep in Jax’s old bedroom and you’re sitting at Gemma’s dining table staring blankly into space. If you had been told a week ago that you’d be seeking asylum at Gemma Teller’s home, you wouldn’t have believed it. You replay the last twenty-four hours in your head, you’re somewhat in disbelief of all that’s happened.

Gemma places a gentle hand on your shoulder, drawing you back to reality. “Here you go sweetheart,” she places a steaming mug of herbal tea in front of you, “it should help calm your nerves.”

“Thank you.” You place both of your shaking hands on the mug, watching as Gemma takes her place across the table from you. “Have you heard anything from Jax?”

“No,” she reaches for the box of cigarettes on the table. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

You nod, your eyes dropping to the mug. “Did he… did he tell you why he had Ratboy bring me here?”

“Psycho boyfriend,” she takes a pull from the lit cigarette. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

The shame brings fresh tears springing to your eyes. It makes it worse to know that this time around, S/N was awake to hear it all. You feel like you’ve failed him, exposed him to the very thing you vowed to protect him from when you left Charming all those years ago.

“What do I tell S/N?”

“Nothing,” she stubs out the cigarette in the ashtray. “You shouldn’t worry yourself with that right now. You should try get some sleep, you can worry about that tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t think I’ll be getting much sleep tonight.” You take a small sip of the hot tea and sigh, “This is all my fault.”

“Sweetheart, no.”

“It is and now I’ve gone and gotten Jax involved in this mess.” The frustration is eating at you, “I just–”

You’re cut off by the kitchen door opening. Jax’s back. Thank the heavens! Gemma rushes over to greet him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Are you okay, baby?”

“I’m fine, Mom.”

Joining you at the table, Jax pulls you into him and tenderly strokes your back. All your fears and concerns are alleviated once you’re in his arms.

“Did he hurt you?”

He chuckles and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You shouldn’t be worrying yourself with that.”

“I can’t help it,” you laugh through your tears.

“You should get some rest.”

“All my stuff is back at my mom’s.” The thought of returning to the scene of last night’s brutality has you shuddering. You pull away from Jax and roughly dry your tears. “I don’t… I can’t–”

Jax pulls you back into him, holding you tighter than before, and gently rocks you. “He’ll never hurt you again.”

Guilt. You feel a tremendous amount of guilt. Is he dead? Possibly, and your guilt deepens when you recognize a small part of you overjoyed by the possibility. He deserves it. How could you even think that? No one deserves to die — not even B/N.

“How are you going to get rid of the body?”

He doesn’t respond to your question, instead, he tells you that he’ll get Rat to bring yours and S/N’s bags to Gemma’s.

“Jax, don’t leave,” you plead, the surge of panic hits you like a freight train and has you fisting the hem of his shirt. “Stay.”

He presses a kiss to your covered shoulder. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” he assures you.

💀💀💀💀💀

PART FIVE

tag list:

@princesssterek @derangedcupcake @furiouscopshepherduniversity @crucifixedbitch @holl2712 @sweet--catrastrophe @marvelsmylife @brittjulianne97 @few-proud-emotonal @zozebo @lovinnholland @adaydreamaway08

[dccomicsimagines]

What’s Lost is Found - Batfamily Imagine - Bonus Part Nine.Five

Warning - Depressive Thoughts, Angst Content

Part One   Part Two  Part Three   Part Four  Part Five  Part Six  Part Six.Five  Part Seven  Part Eight  Part Nine  Part Ten   Part Eleven

Requested by Anon - Hey! Uh... Can i request a one-shot from dick's P.O.V. from what's lost is found when he realise (y/n) is not in the mansion/found (y/n)'s note about handing themself to the fake bane? I'd really love to see slight angst of panicked dick worrying about his kid.(sorry not sorry dick)🤣

Author’s Note - Sorry this took so long, but I was working on other things before diving back into the What’s Lost is Found universe. ;) 

***

The warmth from the sunlamp soaked into Dick as he sat in the ICU area of the cave. Kori hadn’t woken up yet. She laid on the bed directly under the lamp, taking the full blast from it. Her baby bump clearly visible under the sheet. He stared at the heart monitors, both heartbeats were strong. Why wouldn’t she wake up?

Dick buried his face in his hands. His body ached. The pills Alfred slipped him must have wore off. 

He frowned when he heard the arguments coming from the meeting room in the cave. They were planning their next move to deal with siege on Gotham. Dick knew he should be in there with them, but there wasn’t any point. He was going to take his family home where it was safe. 

Dropping his hands, he looked back at Kori. His stomach twisted in knots.

He tensed at the sound of soft footsteps approaching. However, he relaxed when he felt your presence by his side. “Hey kiddo,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around you. You leaned into him. Dick’s heart glowed. At least you were safe. His hand rubbed your side gently.

“Is she okay?” You trembled in his grasp. Your words stabbed at Dick’s heart. Tears threatened to fall down his cheeks. You were so young. Too young for all of this. 

“Her vitals and the baby’s are good, but she hasn’t woken up.” He ran a hand through his hair, wincing when his shoulder flared in pain. Damn, maybe he should have taken another dose of pain meds. You shifted in his grasp. He glanced up to see your lips pursed, eyes downcast. “This isn’t your fault, honey. I don’t want to hear that from you.” Your eyes watered. Dick kissed your cheek, the father instinct in him taking over.  “I didn’t want you to be part of this.”

You tensed. Dick saw the anger flash in your eyes, but you didn’t snap at him. His arms ached to hold you, to comfort you and himself at the same time. He hesitated a moment before pulling you to sit in his lap. You relaxed into his hold much to his relief.  “Shouldn’t you be with the others?” you asked.

“No.” Dick squeezed his arms around you. Gathering his courage, he spoke his next words carefully. “We’re not going to be here for much longer.”

“What?!” you gasped. Dick sighed. He knew you would react this way. Your jaw dropped, staring at him with those big eyes in disbelief. You looked so much like Bruce in that moment. Dick remembered getting a similar look from Bruce when he swung off the chandelier for the first time. 

“We’re leaving, going home.” Dick frowned when you pulled away from him. His arms reached out to try to keep you close. “Don’t fight me on this, sweetheart.” Dick’s heart broke into a million pieces. He had to keep you, Kori, and the baby safe. Why couldn’t you just understand for once? Why did you always have to fight?

“We can’t leave.” Your voice cracked. Dick saw your hands trembling. He wanted to reach out to hold them still, but you would just run away from him.  “I caused this. I can’t leave them to deal with this. Tim already hates me, Damian too. I can’t do this to them.”

Something inside Dick snapped. He felt a cold, raw anger build inside his chest.  “I’m not arguing with you on this. We’re going home.” Your eyes widened in shock. Color drained out of your face. Dick caught himself. The anger evaporated. He softened his tone. “I have more to lose now.” Without a thought, he reached out to pat your arm. You flinched away from him. Dick jerked like you tore his heart out. “(Y/N).” You left the room so fast, you were gone in a blink of an eye. 

A plug released from inside of him and Dick sobbed in a way he hadn’t since his parents died. Completely broken. Deep down, he knew he shouldn’t be selfish and whisk his family away when Gotham needed all hands on deck. The others were his family too. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to them.

Time passed and Dick slowly collected himself. Kori hadn’t stirred. He went over to kiss her forehead. “I’ll be back, sweetheart. I’m going to talk to (Y/N).” He waited a moment for any sign from Kori. However, she didn’t move. “Please wake up soon.” He kissed her again before pulling himself away. 

The raised voices from the meeting room echoed through the cave. Lois was talking to Alfred in the corner as Alfred was setting up sandwiches and drinks for everyone. “Do you know where (Y/N) went?” Jon asked Dick shyly, appearing beside him. Dick frowned. His eyes narrowed. Jon flinched.

“No.” Dick crossed his arms. “What you did was so irresponsible. I trusted you to keep (Y/N) out of this and safe.” 

“I know.” Jon bit his lip, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I already got the full lecture from Mom, Dad, Alfred, Jason, and Damian.” He looked Dick in the eye rather bravely. Dick found himself respecting Jon just a little bit more. “I’m sorry.”

Dick cleared his throat. “I suppose I can overlook it. I’d imagine (Y/N) would have came anyway, no matter if you brought them or not.” He glanced around the cave. “You haven’t seen (Y/N)?”

“No, not since Alfred changed their bandages.” Jon tensed, following Dick’s gaze. 

“I’ll check upstairs while you look around here.” Dick jogged to the steps and headed up. He heard Jon zooming off to search the lesser used areas of the cave. Dick’s heart was in his throat. Please don’t let anything happen to (Y/N). Please don’t let (Y/N) do something foolish and dangerous.

He couldn’t shake the sense of dread settling in the bottom of his stomach. Bursting through the clock entrance into Bruce’s study, his blood ran cold when he saw notes for everyone on the desk. They were all in your handwriting.

“No, no, no, no.” Dick grabbed the note with his name on it and opened his. His eyes came across ‘I’m sorry’ before he crumbled it in his hand. “Damn it, (Y/N).” He was about to rush back down to the cave when a terrible sound echoed from it. Dick paused. “Damian?” It couldn’t have been Damian. Damian never sounded like that before. 

Dick rushed down the stairs, almost tripping to find Damian on his knees in front of the batcomputer. The others were gathered around, watching in horror. Footage from outside Wayne Tower was playing live. You were in the Bane lookalike’s arms, limp. Dick’s mouth went dry as he watched the Bane lookalike toss you into a waiting vehicle. 

“We have to stop him.” Damian was on his feet, racing toward the batmobile like a dehydrated man seeing water for the first time. 

“Stop. You won’t get there in time.” Tim grabbed at Damian’s arm to stop him. Damian snarled, slamming his fist into Tim’s jaw to knock him back.

“That’s my sibling.” Damian started toward the batmobile again. Jason tackled him to the ground. The terrible sound came from Damian again as he fought with Jason desperately to get to the batmobile. “We can’t let them die. We can’t leave them.” 

Jason grunted as Damian’s elbow smashed into his stomach. “Stop it. You’re not thinking straight.”

Dick looked back at the screen. All the light in his life was sucked away in an instant. You were dead. There’s no way they would keep you alive. Dick closed his eyes, burying his face in his hands.

A hand rested on his shoulder. He looked up to meet Barbara’s eye. “We don’t know if they’re gone. Let’s not grieve until we do,” she whispered. Dick looked at the others. Jon Kent was hugging Lois tight, sobbing into her shoulder. Lois had tears in her eyes too. Jason and Damian were still wrestling on the ground with Damian slowly dragging them over to the batmobile. Alfred stared blankly at the screen in shock. Tim was on his knees, embracing Steph from where she collapsed. Cass and Duke appeared numb and held hands with each other. They slowly moved to Alfred’s side to comfort him. 

“Right.” Dick swallowed his grief. He allowed himself to have that little spark of hope in his chest. You were strong and the fact they didn’t kill you outright meant that they maybe had other plans. Besides, he was the oldest. He had to be the example. 

Barbara nodded over to Jason and Damian. “You better take care of that first. I’m going to try to track that vehicle.” Barbara went to the computer and started working. 

Dick took a deep breath. “Cass, Duke, get ready to go out there as soon as Babs has information for you.” They nodded, running off to get dressed.

“Fuck! Get off me, you idiotic street rat.” Damian suddenly broke away from Jason and scrambled to his feet. “I will not be the last Wayne!” He panted, glancing at the computer before swiftly kicking Jason in the side. “You wasted my time! (Y/N) could be dead by now!”

“Damian!” Dick rushed over, stepping between Jason and Damian. Jason groaned, holding his side. “Calm down! This is not going to help (Y/N).” Damian’s glare darkened. Dick rested his hands on Damian’s shoulders, tensing in case Damian exploded again. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Dami, I know you’re scared for (Y/N). I’m terrified for them too, but lashing out isn’t going to help us get them back.” 

Damian took a shaky breath. He closed his eyes. “I can’t be the last Wayne.” Dick’s stomach dropped to his feet. His fear threatened to take over, but he held it off. He had to be strong for Damian, for the others. 

“You aren’t.” Dick pulled Damian into his arms. Damian went limp, his knees giving out. Dick fell with him, ignoring the wetness on his shirt as Damian hid his face into Dick’s shoulder. “(Y/N) is still alive. We know that. We’ll find them and bring them back home.” Dick rested his chin on Damian’s head. His own tears fell down his cheeks. “I swear we’ll find them.” He rocked Damian back and forth.

[anystalker707]

I Wanna Be Your Slave

Pairing: Frank x [amab] Reader Word count: ~ 2 400 Genre: Fluff / Smut Summary: (Y/n) f*cks Frank harsh as a kind of reward and punishment at the same time. Kind of content: Praising / Hair tugging / Handcuffs / Harsh / Temperature Play / Safe / Dirty talk / Edging / Fingering Requested on Wattpad Help with details by @frank-ieros-lip-ring

*not proofread this is the last part of a 3 parts story, afab reader smut coming soon

"You will never redeem yourself." I light a cigarette, bringing it to my lips. "Stop trying. Once your hands are dirty, the stain never comes off." A smile tugs on my lips, although completely humorless, as I take a drag of the cig, leaning back against the chair, watching the smoke go out through the window. "Not redeeming yourself doesn't mean you can't be a good person. It depends on how much you're up to changing or how well you are with yourself."

"And sleeping at night is just that easy?" Frank raises an eyebrow at me, shifting in his place on the armchair by the other side of the desk.

"If you bury it deep enough." I shrug. "It doesn't matter, honestly. You shouldn't overthink because that's exactly what will end up killing you. Or not. I don't know. I don't like to think about it."

"You're confusing." He twists his lips lightly.

"I guess. But I'm doing well. I'm alive, I'm here, I have you." I let my eyes fall to the papers again, signing my name over the line. "And that's what matters to me."

It's silent, dense. For the first time in a good while, I'm actually the one uncomfortable with the silence I've imposed after my last words and the room has never felt so small. Having feelings for someone like this feels almost wrong. I have a whole company, a whole family to run, but again, it doesn't mean I can't be happy or that I need to live exclusively for them – on the other hand, that'd mean someone else to threaten me with. Sometimes I want to leave Frank.

"I supposed I can live with that," Frank says quietly.

I never look up. A true smile forms itself on my face this time and I only hum in response as I brush the cig's ashes away from the paper.

It's already late at night when I'm heading back to my bedroom, halls dark and only the sound of low chatter filling the ambient. Frank is in the room when I walk in, sitting on the bed only in his underwear, reading a book.

"Who said you could crash here tonight?" I hum, shrugging off my blazer, kicking away my shoes.

"I don't need anyone telling me what I can do or not." He doesn't even look away from his book, turning the page. Not really his book since I can recognize it as one of the books I got in my office.

"True?" I get rid of the suspenders so I can remove my shirt, then do the same with my pants. "Didn't know you'd gotten such a moral around here, Mr. Iero."

"Oh, but I do, actually!" And the way Frank sounds so cynical is somehow so funny.

"Being a bad boy today?" I struggle to hold back a chuckle, suppressing it before I can face Frank. He's about to say something, but I'm taking the book away from his hands first. "Mary Shelley? I never thought you'd like her books. Nothing against, tho," I mutter, marking the page so I can put the book down. "It's a really good book."

"What are you doing?" He shifts on the bed, glaring at me. "I was reading that!"

"You'll have all the time to read, tomorrow." I glare back, but actually amused.

"But–"

"Why don't you stand up for me?" I make a come on motion, ignoring all the questioning looks shot at me.

Frank tenses up, but is eventually doing as told, eyes only meeting mine for a couple of seconds before they're falling to the ground. Not like I need him to look at me right now, after all. I cup his face and let my thumbs run across the soft skin – he leans into the touch, hands resting over my chest.

My lips meet Frank's in a soft kiss, one that's returned only after a few seconds, his lips slowly moving against mine until I set a pace, letting a hand fall to his hip to pull him closer then touch him through the thin underwear; his hands twitch on my chest, closing themselves around nothing.

"Safeword?" I whisper into Frank's ear, giving the side of his face a kiss.

"Redemption," Frank mutters back and I slowly nod.

"Good boy." I step back. "Now, undress and sit on the bed."

Frustration crosses Frank's eyes momentarily, but it doesn't stop him from doing as told, soon becoming unquiet because he's already half hard so, of course, I'm not going to rush things. One by one, the lube, handcuffs, candles and matches come off one of the bedside table's drawers, clearly intimidating Frank.

The candles go on the bedside table, over a couple of saucers whilst a third and a fourth candle are left aside along with the lube, the fire slowly burning and casting a warm light over Frank when I'm finally moving to give him some attention.

Creaking comes from the mattress with it sinking under my knees as I move towards Frank, my hand on his chest slowly pushing him down against the sheets; he chews down on his lip with me straddling his hips, but all I do it for is to use the handcuffs to lock each of his wrists to the bedposts despite his wide eyes watching me in silent complaints. A whine escapes Frank's throat with it, but I silence him with a peck, moving off of him.

"You're not to come until I tell you so, do you understand?" I grab the lube again, kneeling between his spread legs. "As you already know and have experience with, I'll stop at the same moment if you say the safe word. I thought that'd be great to remember."

Frank meekly nods in response, chest falling with an exhale.

The swallows around Frank's hips deform lightly as I sink my thumbs into the skin, rubbing circles into it, and watch him miserably push his hips up. "Please," he mumbles, but I barely give attention to him, starting to press kisses from his belly button down, mouthing around his crotch, seconds that probably feel like forever to him, but compensated with the pleasure once I take the tip of his cock in my mouth. A loud moan comes from him with it, squirming intensifying, in a way I can't help but to feel anxious to finally touch him properly.

I sigh softly, holding onto Frank's hips while taking him in completely, hearing the sound of the metal against clinking the bedposts under the cries coming from him.

"Tell me," I whisper once I pull away, letting my thumb sink into the inside of his thigh to rub circles into it – it's pathetic how he continues whimpering even with such a simple touch. "What are you, Frank?"

"Yours," he manages to say, voice tight.

Great. I fondle his balls lightly, watching his thighs quiver. "My what, hun?"

Frank gasps, a shaky moan escaping his lips. "Slave."

"Good boy." I press a kiss to his thigh and move away from him completely so I can reach for the lube, which makes Frank actually quiet instead of complaining about anything. "I'm gonna fuck you until I come," I tell him, covering my fingers with lube, "and if you come before I tell you to, you'll sort yourself out, okay?"

"No," Frank groans. "I–" He cuts himself off when my fingers start tracing his entrance, feeling it fluttering under my touch, before a finger finally sinks in, which snatches a sound of discomfort from him. "Please, just don't hold me back from cumming, I–" A moan.

"And what if you don't cum until I finish foreplay?" I can't help but to grin. "Then you can cum, but I won't stop until I've done it myself."

Frank mutters something under his breath, something I can't identify whether it's a complaint or a plea, however, he's frantically nodding. "Yes, master."

"Oh, fuck you," I mutter almost in the same moment, feeling my underwear grow way too tight.

With a second finger, Frank is being louder and almost pushing himself down against my hand when I brush against his prostate, not touching it as much as he'd like me to when scissoring and twisting my fingers around. The third finger makes him gasp, only moving more frantically. So hopeless.

"Fuck!" Frank throws his head back and arches his back when I'm pulling my hand away, eyes pressed shut tightly.

"You're doing really well, hun," I whisper, cleaning my hand away so I can reach for a candle.

"S-Sir," he swallows, breathing shakily.

I light the candle with one of the others and, opposite to them, this one burns easier, meaning the wax isn't harmful. Wax soon starts pooling in it and I tilt it to pour the warm liquid over Frank's torso – he lets out a gasp, a moan, as he uselessly tries to escape the inevitable touch of the wax.

"Fuck," he curses, melting down along with the wax.

"Tell me how it feels," I say softly, peeling away some of the dried wax while waiting for more to melt.

"I– It's good," he breathes. "Hurts in a good way." He hums, biting down on his lower lip when I pull onto a chunk of wax. "More, please."

And I do as said, carefully letting it fall over Frank's nipple and appreciating each little sound that escapes his lips – he arches his back like to meet the wax, humming as he moves his hips, pushing himself down and ending up finding a little of friction when his balls meet my leg for a second.

"Such a whore," I whisper, peeling the chunk of wax away from his nipple. "I had no idea you'd like something like this, look at how pathetic you are."

Whatever complaint Frank has is lost among moans once my hand is wrapped around his cock, working on it while I let more of the wax pour over his chest and without many pauses now, snatching a chain of gasps from him whilst he thrusts into my hand.

"S-Sir," he says breathlessly.

"I said not to cum during foreplay." I let go of Frank at the same moment, blowing the half burnt candle out before I can return it to its previous place.

"But master, sir," Frank says and these are honestly the only words I'm able to make out from all the babbling and cries coming from him.

"Shh, baby, it'll be just a moment." I stand up from the bed to get rid of the boxers and grab the lube again. Having my hand around my cock feels like such a relief; I almost immediately gasp, though trying to focus more on lubing myself up than jacking off. "Right," I mutter to myself, returning to kneel down between Frank's spread legs before I can adjust my position, bringing one of his legs up to make things easier. "My pretty boy, all mine," I say softly, "what'd it be of you if it wasn't me, hm?"

"Nothing, sir," he replies. Well, I wasn't waiting for that.

All I do is to flash Frank a smile in response then lean in for a kiss, a short and sweet one.

I use my free hand to guide myself in, not so slowly as Frank doesn't need it at all nor a slow pace at first – his body jerks with the heavy thrusts, instantly snatching high pitched sounds from him with every movement.

Frank is fucking tight, clenching around me each time I slam right back in, not bothering to miss his prostate this time. The pleasure is sent ringing up my spine instantly along with this immense relief, incessantly, and it's all about the small details. Clinking echoes through the bedroom along with the sound of the headboard hitting against the wall, but none of these are as loud as Frank.

"Please– Touch me, sir, touch me," he whines among all the gasps and moans.

"You can cum without it, baby boy," I reply softly, my fingers sinking into his thighs, holding both of them up so I can go in deeper and Frank's squirming shows how successful it is. He starts pleading again, but stops after a harsh slap is delivered to his thigh.

Frank fucking comes. Just now I become aware of his spluttered attempts of telling it to me, which I ignored due to being too focused on observing him and myself instead.

It'd be a lie to say it's like nothing; he immediately tightens around me and my hand shakes, sending some of the wax dripping down my fingers instead. "Fuck, fuck," I mutter, putting out the candle messily so I can set it aside and once again take a hold of Frank's thighs, fucking him through his release.

Frank is so messy, throwing his head back – I don't waste the opportunity, quickly attacking his exposed neck with my lips to leave behind marks among the few tattoos decorating the skin.

His skin is hot. Almost like mine, I imagine, burning, though certainly not as much as the muscles on the back of my thigh, which are already complaining by now with a sharp and annoying pain.

"A good boy, aren't you?" I breathe into his ear, not stopping to thrust in, feeling him pulsate, clench around me just so perfectly. "But also such a whore. Look at how you're letting me use you. Mine and only mine. Who's the only one who can touch you this way?"

"Y-You, sir," he stutters, thighs twitching under my touch already, but it doesn't take long for me to cum already, letting out a low moan escape my lips, mind momentarily going blank with the pleasure climbing up the back of my thighs and unraveling the knot in my lower stomach. My movements don't stop until I can feel the oversensitivity threatening to kick in.

"Hell," I breathe, slowly letting go of Frank. "Hell."

I rest my forehead against Frank's, both of us not sharing a word.

"You did so well, baby, so well," I whisper, moving to release him from the handcuffs and his arms just fall limp to the mattress. Fuck. So small and hopeless. "C'mere." I wrap my arms around him, pulling him close. "Relax for a bit so I can clean you up, hm?" I pull his sweaty strands back from his forehead and press a kiss to it. "I love you, hun."

"Love you, sir," he mumbles, eyes half lidded, though I'm sure he's barely conscious.

[oikawaplssteponme]

roses in your sweater

pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem! reader

genre: angst, aged up characters

warnings: swearing, breakup, brief mention of blood, make-out session, a little suggestive, emotional breakdown (?)

word count: 2,446 words

synopsis: As you fell deeper into love, he fell farther out. Bakugou never wanted to hurt you, but he knew he was going to have to. One last night together and then it’s over, no matter what.

a/n: please reblog :)) as always, id love to hear your thoughts as well <3

He loves me.

He loves me not.

He loves me.

He loves me not.

He loves me.

You picked the petals off of the rose carefully, allowing them to fall to the grass below you. You sat on the biggest branch of the largest tree in the park, humming along to the sound of birds chirping. You held onto the stem of the rose, right in between two of its thorns.

He loves me not.

The last rose petal fell to the ground. You tilted you head, chuckling to yourself. What a silly game it was, believing that some pattern will prove if he loved you. You knew he loved you. It was just a silly flower.

You stared at the stem. You counted the thorns Twenty-three.

“Hey Y/N, get down!”

You looked down at your boyfriend, who stared up at you. You smiled.

“Why don’t you come up here instead?”

“I’m not climbing a damn tree. Get down, I have your boba.”

Bakugou showed you the drink, shaking it a bit. You began to make your way down the tree, standing in front of him.

“Thank you Katsuki,” you cheered. Bakugou patted the top of your head.

“Shit, your finger,” he said. You raised a brow, and looked at your finger. A small cut cross the tip of it.

“Oh I must’ve cut myself on the rose thorn,” you explained. Bakugou took your hand, sucking the stray blood from your finger, then giving you a smirk.

“I dont get why you like roses so much. They’re mainly thorns.”

“I think they’re pretty.”

“Well I think roses just trick you into thinking they’re pretty so that you pick them. After all, you picked all the petals so now it’s just the ugly thorns.”

“Maybe I like the thorns.”

“Only you would. Come on dumbass, let’s go home.”

Bakugou dimmed the lights of your bedroom then he made his way over to you. You grabbed the covers of the bed and pulled them down before climbing in. You laid down and shuffled over to where Bakugou now laid as well . You rested your head onto his chest as he dragged his finger up and down your side.

“Keep doing that,” you whispered. Bakugou chuckled.

“Sure baby.”

Bakugou kissed your head softly. He watched as you soon drifted to sleep. How beautiful you looked when dreams ran through your mind. How your lips curled ever so slightly, making it look like you were smiling. He wondered if you dreamed of him. If you dreamed up the perfect version of him in your head. He hoped you didn’t. He almost wished you wouldn’t dream of him at all.

~

“Katsuki, baby, I packed your lunch!” You said, hoping he would hear you from the bathroom.

Katsuki ran his head under the cold water, forehead pressed against the wall. He had heard you loud and clear, yet didn’t reply. He shampooed his hair for the third time, desperately trying to kill time.

You set his lunch down on the counter then filled his travel mug with his tea. You smiled. You packed everything just how he liked it, even put a small note in the lunch to hopefully cheer him up after long hours at his agency.

Bakugou wiped down the mirror, allowing him to stare at his reflection. He had to stop himself from breaking the glass with his fist, so frustrated with himself.

I have to tell her.

Tonight.

I’ll tell her tonight.

Bakugou knew deep down that when that moment came, he wouldn’t take it. He knew he couldn’t bare to see the look on your face he he would have to snap your heart in two, but he also knew he had to. Snap it like a twig. As if it were nothing.

Bakugou dried himself off and got dressed. He packed up his Hero costume in his bag and went out to meet you in the kitchen.

“Morning love,” you smiled. You leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“Sorry babe I’m running a bit late. I won’t be home until late so don’t wait for me, okay?” Bakugou grabbed his lunch and tea, making his way to the door.

“Oh okay. Have a good day, I love you.”

“Bye baby.”

Bakugou shut the door behind him. You sighed. He would often forget to say ‘I love you’ back but you tried not to think too much about it. You knew he loved you.

While Bakugou was away, you would organize your sweet little home, get your own work done, and wait for him to get back. Working from home was nice, but you often wondered what he was up to. You knew he was saving the world, which put a smile on your face. How lucky were you to be dating a Pro-Hero, and one like Bakugou. Oh how you loved him. You loved him so much. You would daydream of a life with Bakugou, grander than the one you already had. One where tiny footsteps would roam your halls. One where you would have the suffix ‘Mrs.’ before your now changed name. You loved to think of that kind of future, and hoped that he would ask you soon.

~

“How’s Y/N?” asked Kirishima through the phone. Bakugou scratched his head.

“Uh s-she’s good. Yeah, she’s good.”

“Just good? Everything okay with you two?”

Bakugou clicked the pen in his hand a few times and tapped his foot.

“Look man I don’t know what I’m gonna do. All I know is that I can’t do it anymore...” he admitted. The other line went silent for a moment.

“Just be honest with yourself and her. She’ll understand,” suggested Kiri. Bakugou shook his head.

“No no I can’t. I don’t want to hurt her but I-I just...I have a feeling that I’m gonna have to.”

“Do you love her man?”

“I did...”

“Then you gotta come to terms with it. You can’t force yourself to be happy for her. That’s just unfair.”

Bakugou threw the pen to the ground and got up from his chair. He began to pace around the room.

“I just-GOD- I wish I did. I really wish I did...”

~

You stared up at your ceiling fan, watching the blades rotate in a circular motion. You couldn’t sleep. You had a horrible pit in your stomach, but couldn’t pinpoint why.

Bakugou carefully turned his key to open the door. He held his breath hoping not to make a single sound. He would be silent. He would simply pack a bag, write a note, and leave exactly from where he came.

You tossed and turned in your bed as you tried to find a comfortable position. You sighed and sat up. Maybe a glass of cold water would help.

Bakugou grabbed his laundry from the basket in the living room. He began to fold the clothes that you had washed earlier for him. He carefully folded them one by one. He stared at one article of clothing. It was an old sweater. It was his but you wore it more than he did, claiming it reminded you of him. He sighed, leaving that sweater in the basket.

You rubbed your eyes, placing your hand on the door knob. Bakugou stiffened up. You yawned and walked to the kitchen. You spotted him in the corner of your eye.

“I didn’t hear you come home,” you whispered. Bakugou chuckled nervously.

“Y-Yeah I just got here a couple minutes ago...”

You looked over at Bakugou with the Landry basket.

“Why are you folding clothes at two-thirty in the morning?” You questioned. Bakugou sighed.

“Y/N come here please.”

You took a gulp of your water before setting it down. You went over to the couch to join Katsuki.

“Can’t this wait until the morning?” You yawned. He shook his head.

“No it can’t. Y/N I have to talk to you about something important.”

Your eyes widened.

“Okay. I’m listening.”

Bakugou took your hands with his. His palms were sweaty. He locked eyes with you.

“Listen there’s-uh- there’s no easy way to say this but...Y/N I’m breaking up with you.”

Your expression didn’t change, which worried Bakugou even more. You just stared at him. You stared straight at him until an ocean began to fall from your eyes. Your tears could’ve filled up the entire room. Bakugou squeezed onto your hands.

“Look baby you didn’t do anything wrong, trust me. I just...fuck... I just don’t feel the same way towards you that you do for me and I’m sorry. I really wish I did. But I can’t force myself to stay. That isn’t fair to either of us.”

Your breathing grew heavier as your entire world fell apart before you. Your head fell down into Bakugou’s lap, muffling your sobs. He looked up at the ceiling, holding back his own tears. He hated himself at this moment. He hated himself more than ever before. He would do anything to love you, but he didn’t.

“I’m sorry baby...I’m sorry...”

Your cries probably woke up your neighbors. How your sobbing didn’t cease. You felt as though a million arrows had just shot into your back. Thorns after thorns piercing your skin. You take it back. You don’t like the thorns.

You looked up at Bakugou. Your lips quivering.

“I’m gonna pack a bag and spend the night at Kiri-“

“No, god, please no...” you cried. You wrapped your arms around his torso, now sobbing into his chest. Bakugou huffed. He held the back of your head gently.

“C-Can you please just spend one last night with me. Please...”

“Y/N that’s not a good idea...”

You sniffled a little harder, gripping onto his shirt.

“J-Just one last night with me please...”

Katsuki kissed the top of your head.

“Okay.”

You and Bakugou walked back into the bedroom. He changed into just a pair of shorts, as he did every night. It was as if nothing was different. He dimmed the lights, you pulled down the covers, and the two of you climbed into bed. You didn’t lay down, keeping your back against the bed frame. Bakugou was seated the same.

“K-Katsuki?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you please kiss me? Just one last time?” You whispered. Bakugou sniffled.

“Yeah.”

You looked over at him, tears still streaming down your face. You moved to sit onto his lap. Bakugou placed his hand on your cheek, wiping away the tears though more still poured.

“I’m sorry.”

Bakugou leaned in to kiss you. Your shaky lips tried their best to savor this moment. You knew this was it. This was the last time you would ever share a bed with him. Ever share a home with him. Ever kiss him.

You tangled your hands into his blond hair, pulling him closer to you. His hands traveled up your shirt, memorizing the skin he touched. Maybe this was all just an attempt to see if Bakugou could gain those feelings back for you. Maybe he said yes just for the hope that he would kiss you, and remember why he fell in love with you in the first place. Unfortunately for the both of you, he didn’t. He kissed you and felt nothing. Similar to a black hole in space, Katsuki Bakugou felt empty towards you, no matter how badly he wanted to feel otherwise.

You cried as you kissed him. Both of your tears mixing into one pool. You knew that if you pulled away, that would be it. No more. You were scared to stop, so he stopped for you.

Bakugou turned to the side, making his lips depart from yours. He moved his hands to his side, and pressed his lips together. That was it.

You moved back to your regular spot in bed, pulling the covers over you. You sniffled again.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

~

Bakugou looked over at you to see if you were asleep. He saw your chest rise and fall with your shallow breaths. He brought his fist to his mouth, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath. He went over to his closet, grabbing and packing his clothes. Next, his drawers. He packed up everything he owned, placing it all in just a few bags. He went out to the living room, seeing the now empty laundry basket. Well, almost empty. Bakugou grabbed the remaining sweater and brought it to your room. He set it down on his side of the bed, which he made. He took another deep breath.

“I-I-”

He almost said it, but that would’ve been unfair. He would’ve lied. So, he instead grabbed his bags, kissed the top of your head, and walked out the door.

You heard the door shut, as it woke you up. You sprung up from your bed, scanning the room around you. You looked over to your side to see that Bakugou’s side of the bed was perfectly made, and that he had left you something. You cupped your hand over your mouth, shaking your head. You didn’t want to cry this early in the morning but it was already too late. Once you realized what he has left you, it was too late.

With a shaky hand you grabbed the sweater and unfolded it. You held it in front of you. You buried your face in it. You cried. You screamed into the sweater. You screamed so loud, Bakugou heard you from outside. He climbed into his car anyway

You gripped onto the sweater, sobbing uncontrollably. The navy fabric now stained black from your tears. You held it up in front of you again, seeing the tear marks. You put the sweater on.

The reason you loved that specific sweater so much was because of how soft it was. Warm and fuzzy, giving you a hug when Bakugou couldn’t. Now, the sweater felt rough. It was almost as if the fabric inside pricked you. It was stabbing you, making your skin crawl. It was as if the sweater was made of a million tiny thorns, when it once was as soft as a rose petal.

You ripped the sweater off, throwing it to the ground. You rubbed your arms, wishing that uncomfortable feeling would go away. You wished this would all just go away.

You splashed cold water onto your face from your kitchen sink. You patted your face dry and looked to your kitchen table. Your flowers had died. Only one wilted rose remained, with only one petal left. You walked over to it, picking it off and throwing the petal in the garbage, where the rest of your love went.

He loves me not.

•

[MHA taglist: @bibly @big-phat-cat @sapphoscolonoscopy @luluwiie @happyheartsss @lealofsblog @iwaisa @bakugousmymassa @evivn1 @tetsoleil @bokutory @vangoghmusings @moonlightaangel @misszenin @marajillana @sopesmin @alaina-rose13 @shotoful ]

[broqkenhearted]

𝕸𝖞 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊

𝕸𝖞 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊: Chapter 3

𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

𝕹𝖊𝖝𝖙: Chapter 4

𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖚𝖘: Chapter 2

𝕿𝖆𝖌 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: Look at Bottom of Chapter (you can comment or message if you want to be in my tag list) 

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: An innocent school girl is new to SOPA. She becomes friends with the President of the school and his group. Y/N sees this one group of boys and one of them intrigues her. These boys are the “badasses” of the school and act all cold. But there is more to this boy than what is seen on the outside. This boy is no other than a vampire who is in the gang named Ateez, and finds his mate, who is none other than the innocent school girl. What love will blossom between these two?

𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: bits of fluff, smut, angst, highschool au, vampire au

𝕻𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: vampire!san x reader

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 4,515

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: blood, swearing, mature content (warnings beforehand)

Yunho POV

I could feel Y/N relax behind me as she snuggled herself into my back. I couldn't help but smile. She really was something else.

"Cute," I mumbled.

I hope she'll except us for who we are...

Y/N POV

The motorcycle ride ended a lot faster than I had expected. It was quite relaxing actually. I could ride all day if I could.

I hopped off the bike and took the helmet off. When I took it off, I swung my hair around in an effort to get it less tangled. I could see San staring at me as I did so. I looked over to him and it looked like his eyes just flashed purple??? I'm prolly losing my mind, so I just brushed it off. The boys invited inside their house, and may I tell you, they own a mansion. A big ass mansion to be in fact.

I was gawking at it, until I heard some of the boys chuckle.

"Holy shit, how rich are y'all?" I asked.

"A lot richer than you think," Seonghwa said cockily.

"Oh well no shit Sherlock," I responded rolling my eyes.

When we all entered the front door, the rain began to pour buckets over the city.

The house gave me an awfully sketchy vibe,  it was really dark and gloomy. "They have all this money, and they choose to live in this dark ass mansion," I thought.

"I guess I should thank y'all for making sure I don't drown in the rain," I said giggling.

"It's not a problem! In all honesty, we're surprised you walked away from Twice like that," Hongjoong responded.

"Why? They're the average obsessed bitches. Always trying to grab the popular boys' attention," I said rolling my eyes.

"Well yeah, but they won't hesitate to make your life total hell," Wooyoung sighed.

"If they seriously think I'm going to let them walk over me, they're wrong. If someone ends up dead, don't be surprised," I growled.

The guys looked at me surprised.

I sighed. "Yeah I know, I don't seem to be the person who would act like that, right? Well I'm super stiff around new people. That's why I act shy. But when people get on my nerves, shit goes down. So I'm telling y'all this now.....don't fuck with me."

"And what if we do?" Seonghwa said, smirking.

"Is that a challenge, Seonghwa?"

"Maybe...."

Immediately, I shot a serious stare at him. At first, I decided to play a stare off with him at first. I slowly walked towards him, then pounced. I tackled him to the ground and and put him in a headlock. I was in a position where I could pin his arms and legs down so he couldn't fight back.

"I told you, don't fuck with me."

At that moment, Seonghwa's eyes turned red like how San's changed earlier. I pushed him off of me and got up. I looked from Seonghwa to San in confusion.

My confused face made everyone else just as confused.

"What's wrong?" Mingi asked.

"Your eyes," I responded blandly.

At that moment all the guys except San showed faces of panic.

"Why did they turn red?"

"I think you're seeing things, Y/N."

"How could I be seeing things when it happened to San and Seonghwa?"

Yunho glared at San. San shrugged.

"Explain. I'm not stupid. You know your eyes did that. And, why the hell are you wearing clothes like that?"

"Before we say anything, please don't be scared and run off," Wooyoung sighed.

"Talk," was all I said.

The guys looked at each other as if they were trying to decide who would speak.

"Fine, I'll say it because y'all are being to big of pussies to talk," San growled. "We're vampires."

I began to laugh my ass off.

"V-Vampires?" I said between laughs. "Great joke guys."

I was suddenly pinned against a wall.

"This isn't a damn joke," San said.

His eyes were turning a dark crimson this time. I could see his fangs start to come out.

I was trying to process what was happening when San let me go.

"And before you ask, no, we aren't going to drink your blood and kill you," Jongho said.

"I should go home," I mumbled.

"You aren't going anywhere," San retorted.

"And why the hell do YOU care?" I spat.

"Are you ok?" Yunho asked.

"No, I'm not ok!" I yelled. "I fucking knew you guys were familiar. I should've known better than this."

"What do you mean?" Wooyoung replied sadly.

"What do I mean? WHAT DO I MEAN!? YOU ASSHOLES KILLED HER!" I was crying at this point.

I looked back at the guys to see their eyes change to blue. I walked over to San and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

"You fucking murdered my best friend," I said as I threw San to the ground.

The guys were shocked. No one has ever treated San like that. San's eyes turned black. I was a bit startled to see his eyes change to that color, but I shook the feeling off.

"You asked for it bitch!" San screamed.

The guys rushed to hold him back but I stopped them.

"Don't. I'm not scared of him or what he can do. If he's going to kill me, let him. At least she won't be alone up there anymore."

Third Person POV

Y/N collapsed on the ground in tears. The boys were heartbroken. San even felt his heart hurt a little bit. The guys looked at the poor girl unsure of what to do.

"Where's the bathroom?" Y/N asked quietly.

"Down the hallway, first door to the right," Hongjoong responded.

WARNING: ATTEMPTED SUICIDE AFTER THIS POINT YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Y/N got up and followed his directions to be lead to a large bathroom. Y/N locked the door and slid down against it sobbing. Little did Y/N know, the guys could hear and see her thoughts. Soon they could smell her blood.

"Guys, is that her blood!?" Yeosang asked frantically.

Yeosang decided that he wouldn't wait for their answer and just booked it to the bathroom.

"Y/N, please open the door!"

There was no response. Not even the sound of her crying could be heard. Yeosang teleported into the bathroom to see a horrific sight. Yeosang called for the guys to come, and they all teleported in to see an unconscious Y/N in Yeosangs's arms with blood pooling out of her wrists and neck. Seonghwa, being the healer of the group dashed towards a crying Yeosang. He lifted Y/N into his arms and booked it into his room to help her. The guys turned back towards Yeosang. They have rarely seen him cry before, and the fact that he was crying over a girl he met in one day was shocking.

"I-I can't believe I'm s-saying t-this, but W-Wooyoung's right. She's d-different," Yeosang barely spoke. "She c-can't die!"

The rest of Ateez felt the same way. She was different, special even. All they knew was that they were going to protect her.

Meanwhile, Seonghwa was frantically working to stop the bleeding and stitch her up. He managed to successfully do so, and he soon found himself looking at the poor girl. He walked out of his room to meet with the very worried guys.

"I think she'll be ok," Seonghwa said.

"I can't believe she actually tried to kill herself," Wooyoung said. "How are we even going to talk to her? She said we killed her best friend, she hates us!"

The guys groaned and sighed in agreement with Wooyoung.

2 Hours Later

"Urrggh," Y/N said as she woke up.

She looked around to realize that her wrists and neck are bandaged up and that she's in an unfamiliar room. Y/N arose from the bed she was laying in and proceeded to walk out. The room was attached to the hallway, so Y/N easily found her way to the living room. She could hear the sound of male voices, so Y/N assumed it was the guys. Y/N had to use the assistance of the walls to walk, so when Y/N got to the end of the hallway, she stood there leaning against the cool wall. The boys could hear movement behind them, and when they turned around they saw you there leaning against the door frame with glossy eyes. Y/N resumed her efforts of walking but San was the first person to teleport to her. He could see the pure emptiness and sadness in her eyes and it broke him apart. Before she could reject, San picked Y/N up and carried her over to the couch. She was placed between San and Seonghwa.

"How are you feeling?" Seonghwa asked.

"I've been a lot better," Y/N said with a small smile.

The guys realized that no matter what the situation is, Y/N manages to make the situation a lot lighter and brighter.

"Y/N, we are so sorry," Hongjoong started.

Y/N sighed, "I appreciate your apology, but you should know that I probably won't forgive you for it. She was the only person who made my life have light, so not having her here is really difficult."

"You look really tired, Y/N," Yeosang said.

"I just have to move around to get my blood flow back up that's all," She said.

Y/N looked back at Yeosang to his the fear in his eyes.

"You were the person who walked in, weren't you?" Y/N asked Yeosang.

Yeosang couldn't answer her. He could only let out a quiet tear.

"Come here," she said.

Yeosang hesitantly went in her direction, and stood before her. Y/N signaled for San to get up, and San followed. She patted the now open seat next to her, and Yeosang took the spot. What Y/N did next shocked everyone in the room. She hugged Yeosang and snuggled into him.

"I'm so sorry you had to walk in to find me like that," was all she said.

Yeosang couldn't help but hug her back and cuddle with her. San was looking at the two people feeling anger and jealousy boil through his veins.

"Just because I'm not a vampire doesn't mean I can't sense your guys's jealousy. So if you want a hug you gotta fight for a spot next to me," Y/N smiled.

Y/N let go of Yeosang and sat up. Seonghwa engulfed her into a large hug. She returned the hug and rubbed his back. Soon, the rest of the boys hugged her and inhaled her addictive scent. San was the only member left. This time, Seonghwa got up and let San fill his spot. He looked at her with grey eyes and then gently hugged the girl. To San, Y/N felt so small and fragile. She fit into his arms perfectly. He never wanted to let her go. She snuggled into him closer and San looked up to the guys. He gave them a look that showed how much he cared for her. There was a peaceful silence until Yunho broke it.

"Has anyone ever told you how good you smell?"

"No, what do I smell like?"

"You smell like vanilla and roses!" Yunho exclaimed happily.

"I don't use anything that has that smell though?" Y/N announced.

"Wait that means that's your natural scent! I have never met a human that smells as good as you do," Wooyoung stated.

Y/N giggled at the compliment and her laugh made the guys' hearts melt.

"I take it you wore those outfits to hide from the sun?" Y/N asked referring to the dark outfits the guys were wearing.

"Sorta. They also hide our identities from other people. There are some people who know us for what we are we hide ourselves using these clothes," San responded.

Y/N looked at her phone to check the time, and she saw that it was about 7:30 at night. The rain has stopped awhile ago, so Y/N could go home now.

"I guess I should head out so I'm not a bigger burden than I already am," Y/N said looking at the guys.

"In the condition you're in, you're not going anywhere. If you run into other vampires, they will not hesitate to drain you," Jongho said.

Y/N nodded her head in understanding what Jongho said.

"You can sleep in my room tonight, I'll sleep on the couch," San told Y/N.

"I'm not about to let you sleep on the couch in your own home," Y/N fought back.

"Y/N you need to sleep on a bed. Especially with your injuries," Seonghwa said.

"But I feel bad!"

"It's either you sleep in his bed, or he sleeps in it with you," Mingi said.

Y/N displayed a light blush on her face and looked down.

"Where is the bedroom?" Y/N asked nervously.

"It's down the hallway, last door on the left," San chuckled.

"Oh! Before you go, here are some clothes!" Wooyoung said handing her a hoodie and boxers. "If you want to take a shower, you may."

"Thanks Wooyoung!" Y/N said giving him a hug. "I'm going to take a shower then go to bed. Night guys!"

"Night Y/N!" all the guys said together.

Y/N headed towards the bathroom she was in earlier to see a light red stain on the tile floor.

"Yikes! How could I be stupid enough to think that BLOOD wouldn't stain the tile?" Y/N said to herself aloud.

Y/N undressed herself and took the bandages Seonghwa wrapped around her off. She examined the wounds on her body then felt warm liquid run down her neck. In a split second, Y/N could hear a fist banging on the door and San's voice.

"Y/N?!? ARE YOU OK?!? WHY CAN I SMELL YOUR BLOOD-"

"Hey! It's ok! I just took my bandages off, and my stitches started to bleed a little bit. I'm fine!"

"Can I see them?" San asked.

"Hold on! I don't have any clothes on at the moment!"

When San heard those words leave Y/N's mouth, his heart rate involuntarily increased. He shook off the images running through his mind when Y/N opened the bathroom door. San walked in and shut the door behind him so the smell of her blood doesn't radiate through the house. San hurried into the bathroom so he couldn't see what Y/N was wearing. When he turned around he saw Y/N only wearing her undergarments. Without realizing, San was staring at the girl in front of him admiring her figure.

"I'm sorry about what I'm wearing. It was the only thing I could wear for you to be able to see them clearly," Y/N said with a blush.

"It's ok! I was just surprised you let me see you like this," San said.

"For some reason, my heart trusts you. Even though my head doesn't because of what happened. But I trust my heart more than my mind. The only reason why I did what I did was because my head got the best of me," Y/N confessed.

A genuine smile crept up to San's face, and his eyes turned yellow.

"Do they hurt?" San asked referring to the stitches.

"It just feels like a bruised sort of pain, but it's nothing too bad," Y/N said looking at her sliced wrists.

Blood began to run down her right wrist after she touched it.

"Ouch! That hurt a bit!" Y/N said looking at her bleeding wrist laughing.

Y/N could hear small grunts and growls coming from San and that's when she remembered he's a vampire. "Well shit. How could I possibly forget that he drinks blood?" Y/N thought to herself, giving a herself a mental facepalm as well. She headed towards the sink to wash it off, but San stopped her.

"Please don't wash it off yet," he grunted.

"Why? You can barely contain yourself at the moment."

"It smells really good and I want it to last longer," San said as he stared at the burgundy liquid.

"You want some of it, don't you?" Y/N sighed.

"Of course I do, but I couldn't do that to you."

"I appreciate that, but what would happen if I let you?"

San glanced up at Y/N's face, slightly taken aback with what she just said.

"Are you trying to hint something, Y/N?"

"I mean, it's not like you're going to bite me. It came out naturally! Besides, you look the same way as you did when you did you know what. That can only lead me to believe you haven't had any in quite awhile."

"How are you so damn smart?"

"You might be good at lying San, but you can't hide everything," Y/N said with a giggle.

"I swear to god, you're too cute. But would you actually let me have some?" San looked at Y/N seriously.

"I told you, I trust my heart more than my head."

Y/N raised her wrist once she saw the blood was about to drop onto the tile again.

"There is no way in hell I'm about to stain the tile AGAIN. So, the only way to clean it is to wash it off or you have it," Y/N said looking at her bloody wrist then to the blood thirsty vampire in front of her. "No biting, ok?"

San looked at Y/N with excitement.

"I bet you taste better than you smell!"

Y/N laughed at his statement and headed over to the sink where she could sit and make sure none of her blood can stain the dAMN TILE-

Once she was situated, Y/N signaled San to get closer to her and he followed her commands. He was now standing between her thighs looking at her eyes with his golden ones.

"Ok, your eyes keep changing color, and I have no idea what it means. Could you explain the colors to me before you start?" Y/N questioned.

"Well, my eyes should be gold at the moment which means I'm seriously holding back from getting your blood. Typically when I get a serious blood lust they turn gold. Red is anger, blue is sadness, grey is regret, purple is sexual lust, green is ecstasy, and orange is possessiveness or the feeling of wanting to protect something," San explained.

"I don't think I'll remember all of that, but I'll try my best!"

The two people laughed until Y/N realized her hand was starting to pool with blood.

"Bruh, why the hell am I bleeding so much? You stitches are seriously doing a shitty job."

Y/N raised the hand filled with blood and moved it in front of San. San looked at Y/N one last time searching for a final look of assurance, and Y/N responded with a nod.

San began by drinking what was in Y/N's hand. Her hand became a cup to encapsulate it all. The first taste for San sent him into space. The fact that he hasn't fed in awhile adds to the pleasure, but her taste was the best he's ever had. As he finished what was in her hand, he looked up at her. Y/N could see his fangs and her blood all over his chin. His eyes were a vibrant gold.

"Looks like I was right. You're the best I've ever had."

"Yeah ok," Y/N said.

"Y/N if you were to leave in this state you would be dead by now. Or you would be kidnapped and used as a living blood bag. You're blood is unique. It is so much sweeter than what most humans have."

"Well lucky for you, San, my hand, neck, and wrist is covered in it. Now you can't complain from withdraws."

"I'm not complaining about it either!" San exclaimed.

"Remember San, I need to take a shower. We have classes tomorrow."

San growled.

"Can't we just skip tomorrow?" San whined.

"And do what?"

"Let you heal, Ateez aren't the only vampires at school, and I sure as hell ain't letting anyone else have you if you bleed."

San's eyes flashed orange in a sign of possessiveness.

"Fine, I'll skip. You are acting like a over protective human boyfriend," Y/N chuckled.

"Well the fact that I am drinking your blood connects me to you. I can sense your change in emotions now. The guys can because of what we are, but me doing that makes me the closest out of all of them."

San returned to cleaning you up, and now he moved onto her neck.

She tilted her head to give him more access. He leaned towards her and could see her vein protrude slightly.

"Tell me if this hurts ok? I'm going to go over the stitches."

Y/N nodded her head and he began to lick the blood running down her throat. She couldn't help but let out a soft moan.

"San," she whispered.

San stopped what he was doing and looked at the girl in front of him. His eyes changed to a beautiful shade of purple.

"What are you doing to me, Y/N?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know how I am. I'm really cold to people. But when you came along both me and the guys couldn't help but feel attracted to you. And now here I am. Drinking the best blood I've ever had, from the girl I'm interested in."

Y/N jumped off of the counter and looked in the mirror to see no blood left.

"Damn could you enjoy it any more?" Y/N said with sarcasm.

"I definitely could, babe."

Y/N blushed at the nickname. She's never been called that before. She could easily get used to it though.

"I need to take a shower now, San."

"Can I take it with you?"

"W-What?"

"You heard me. I want to take a shower with you."

"Why?"

"I don't know. This whole blood drinking thing just makes me want to be around you 24/7."

"Ok."

"Wait really?"

"Yeah sure. But...if this leads to you wanting to get closer to me just to use me for sex I will not hesitate to beat the living shit out of you."

"Oh believe me, if I wanted to play you you'd be out of my house right now."

The two chuckled and Y/N walked to turn the shower on. Once it was warm enough for her liking, she looked back at San.

"Is this too hot, San?"

San walked over to feel the water.

"Nope. It's almost as perfect as you."

"I did not expect you to be such a flirt."

"People aren't always who they seem they are Y/N."

"Yeah, I'm quite aware of that."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I mean, it's not like I'm going to be able to hide it from you forever, so I might as well get it over with."

San looked at her with a hint of worry in his eyes.

"It's my birth parents."

San looked at Y/N with interest.

"How about I tell you once we're in the shower, ok?"

San agreed and Y/N took her undergarments off. San couldn't take his eyes off of her. She was absolutely stunning to him.

"Hey! I can't be the only person naked! That's not fair!"

In the blink of an eye, San was undressed and standing in front of Y/N. He took her hand and pulled her into the shower with him. San watched as the water droplets ran down her delicate body. The way her long hair covered her exposed breasts.

"Ok, we're in the shower. Continue please," San said impatiently.

"Oh right. THEM." Y/N said with disgust in her voice. "I was not planed to be here. I'm only alive because my birth parents were retarded enough to not use protection. So when I was born, they decided they weren't ready to raise a child so they gave me to my aunt. I was a much different person back then than I am now. I used to be so caring of others and so welcoming. Now I've become more broken off and closed off. One day, they decided to show up to my house in America. They had the audacity to ask me to go back to them. They even thought that I would be willing to go with them. Ever since then, I have hated people. The fact that my best friend was murdered made it worse," San looked at Y/N with his grey eyes, "I know, vampires depend on blood to stay alive, but I was just so upset that it had to be her. I was pissed at myself for not stopping you guys. But as I thought about it, I realized neither of us would of made it out alive if I was to try and stop you. I lost trust in all people after that. I haven't made any friends for I live with the fear that they will leave me just as she did. I was still new here when she died so I had to take a lot of time to get used to my surroundings here. So here I am, a girl who lives alone and in a country that she still isn't that familiar to her yet."

Y/N was crying at this point from remembering the trauma she suffered. Without a second thought, San pinned Y/N against the shower wall and lifting her chin up with his index finger. Without a second thought he leaned in and kissed her. It was a kiss that expressed how bad he felt for doing what he did to her best friend. Y/N kissed back, enjoying the sensation of his lips against hers.

They both parted from the kiss to regain their breath when San spoke...

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. If I knew my actions would lead to me hurting you like this, I would have never done that. I was just so desperate that if I didn't feed, I would go on a murder spree. But now I promise to never hurt you like that. I promise to protect you from everything you fear the most. I understand if you don't feel the same way, but I love you so much. I never want to let you go.

𝕿𝖆𝖌 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @soyeonrai