#this is killing me. i had this idea in my head for too long and i can't maki it right. like i can't draw it the way i want it to be

[winwin17]

I queued this earlier with the intention to reblog with ideas of my own, but then it turned into a whole fic, and now I have to share it.

So without further ado, I present my fic:

The Mountain Dew Killed the Elf!

The bracing breezes of a serene landscape drifted pleasantly through the spacious porches of Rivendell. Never had this place been so at peace. The Ring was destroyed, and all remaining members of the Fellowship found themselves reunited in the house of Elrond.

This evening found an unlikely pair of friends in an even unliklier situation.

"What have you got there?" asked Gimli when Legolas walked out with a strange looking cylindrical can. It was the color of the brightest spring leaves, and also somehow shiny.

Legolas glanced about as if he had procured some contraband and feared being seen with it. But seeing no one nearby, he sat down and held out the can.

"I do not know," he admitted. "It is something foreign. But it is called Mountain Dew, so it must be lovely."

He lifted the tab on top of the can and it opened with a peculiar crack.

"It is bubbly!" Gimli cried in astonishment, hearing the fizzing sound the soda made.

"Shall we try it?" Legolas proposed. He lifted the can as if in a toast, then raised it to his lips.

Gimli watched the micro expressions that flitted across the elf's sensitive brow and eyes as he took the smallest sip.

"It is strange, but it is good!" Legolas decided. "It tastes like lightning."

He took another, bigger swig to get the full effect.

"Do not drink that!"

Elrond swooped in out of nowhere and snatched the can from Legolas' hand.

"Do you so thoughtlessly consume what you cannot identify?"

He turned the can around, furrowing his brow as he scrutinized the writing marked under the word "Ingredients."

Elrond shook his head.

"Never have I heard or read of most of these elements, though my days in Middle Earth have been long."

He frowned.

"But if my foresight ever can be relied upon, I warn you not to drink of this cursed potion!"

Legolas looked a little worried. Elrond met his eyes perceptively.

"And yet I see you already have," he deduced, evaluating how much liquid was already gone from the can. Still, he handed it back.

"Nonetheless, I would not-"

Elrond's words were cut short when Legolas made a strange strangled sound. It was the sort Elrond associated all too much with death.

A strange expression of pain came over Legolas' fair face, and he raised his hand to his chest, right over his heart.

Then, with no other warning signs, he slumped forward.

The can of Mountain Dew slipped from his motionless hand and hit the stone floor of the porch, spilling forth a stream of neon yellow liquid.

Gimli and Elrond both rushed to keep Legolas from falling out of his chair. Elrond gently laid him out upon the ground, but Legolas was deathly still, and his eyes simply stared, more vacant even than when he was asleep.

"Curse the Mountain Dew!" Gimli shouted. "If it does not prove to be the bane of my existence this day, then I am no dwarf!"

Elrond knelt next to Legolas and felt his pulse.

But there was none.

Elrond shook his head gravely.

"He is dead. Did not I tell him not to consume these toxins? But alas! My warning was not in time."

Sorrowfully, he reached up and closed the elf's eyes, a last tender gesture.

Gimli fell to his knees by the lifeless form. His grief rendered him wordless.

"Why, whatever is the matter?" a peppy voice broke into the heavy, mournful atmosphere.

Gimli and Elrond looked up to see Pippin standing there wearing a look of confusion.

"The Mountain Dew," Gimli muttered darkly. "It killed him. It killed the elf!"

Now Pippin looked shocked. He actually laughed, as if this were all just a prank.

"Surely you're only joking!" he cried. "It's done nothing to me yet!"

That's when Elrond and Gimli spotted the bright green can the hobbit held.

Elrond was on his feet in the blink of an eye.

"Give it to me, and do not drink any more!" he demanded, snatching the soda away from Pippin.

"Noo!" Pippin protested, looking downright mournful. "It's so good, though. That was already my second one in under an hour!"

Elrond fixed him with a look of horror, and immediately forced him to sit down while he hammered him with questions about exactly how much he'd drunk and if it had had any effects on him.

"Absolutely no negative effects!" Pippin insisted. "Why, I feel better and more energized than usual, at that!"

Elrond shook his head in bewilderment.

"Hobbits never cease to perplex me. Gandalf's accounts of their hardiness must be even more than I estimated."

Still, he insisted that Pippin remain there until he gave him permission to move. Then Elrond turned his attention back to Legolas.

"Is he really dead?" Pippin asked, swinging his legs in the elf-sized chair Elrond had sat him down on.

"I'm afraid so," Elrond replied gravely. He felt for a pulse again, but of course there was nothing.

Gimli sighed heavily. He took one of Legolas' hands in his own.

"Goodbye, my dearest friend," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion.

Then in a gesture never before shared between elf and dwarf, he leaned down and kissed the fair, cold brow.

Suddenly it seemed to him that he felt warmth in the elf's hand. The long, dark lashes fluttered, and the bright eyes opened wide.

With a gasp, Legolas sat straight up, looking around in confusion.

Gimli jumped back in shock.

"What happened?" Legolas asked.

Elrond was standing over him in an instant, checking him all over as if unable to believe this was not some phantom vision.

"You- you were dead!" Gimli spluttered.

Legolas looked down at himself, but seeing no sign of any fatal wounds, his expression of confusion only deepened. His eyes sought Elrond's face.

"Is that truly so?" he asked.

"Indeed. My warning not to drink the Mountain Dew came too late. Your heart stopped."

Recognition and clarity began to form in his face once again. And yet as if still not believing all this was true, he lifted his hand to touch his own face, his brow...

A crease formed between his eyes, and he looked at Gimli.

"You kissed me," he said, his voice far away.

"Do not be offended," Gimli said quickly, ducking his head half in embarrassment, half in respect. "It was the last and the least I could do to honor the bond of our friendship while yet your body remained with us."

Legolas still had a strange, faraway look in his eyes.

"I don't recall that I've ever been kissed before," he mused softly.

A bright laugh from Pippin sparkled in the atmosphere.

"Haven't you?" the hobbit exclaimed. "Well, I say it's high time to change that!"

And then, in spite of all Elrond's strict orders, Pippin shot up out of his chair and hurtled towards Legolas. Even the elf's quick reflexes were not enough to dodge in time, and Legolas found himself grinning sheepishly in a shower of smooches from his mischievous hobbit friend. Gimli laughed heartily at this, but Legolas got his revenge when he stood up, snatched Pippin up, and held him upside down in mid-air for a long enough moment that Pippin had a proper panic.

Convinced now that Legolas would be fine, Elrond took advantage of the distraction to search the entire premises for any traces of Mountain Dew, determined to rid his house of every last drop of it, if he had to search every room himself.

But not soon would Rivendell forget the chaos which descended upon them that day in the form of a highly caffeinated Peregrin Took.

Ya’ll know that one trend where people name things that would kill a Victorian child? What about things that would kill a person from middle earth?

[neeeooon]

shut me up ;

6 | the death of isagi yoichi

nagi stayed on facetime with you and played a few rounds of mario kart before falling asleep. you drifted off not long after, feeling much better about sleeping alone.

the sound of pounding on your door startled you awake. checking the time through sleep-squinted eyes, you groaned when you saw that it was only 1 am. “the heck?” you grumbled, speeding up when the knocking became more frantic.

cracking your door open just a tad, your brows furrowed when you saw a fidgety bachira standing there with wide, bloodshot eyes. “y/n!” he cried when he spotted you, panic evident in his voice. “you have to come quick!” he didn’t give you a chance to reply before grabbing your hand and dragging you from the warmth of your apartment.

you should have been worried about following a practical stranger to his room in a tank top and pajama shorts, but you were too confused and tired to think properly. “what, what?” you repeated, heart racing. bachira tossed his door open, sparing you a brief, wild glance. “you used to be a nursing student, right?!”

“yeah—“

“i think i killed isagi!”

☆ 🎸

according to bachira, he and isagi had been playing a drinking card game where the loser had to take a shot, but shidou was helping bachira cheat. they lost count of how many rounds they played, but isagi had to do most of the shots, and after the last one, he passed out and wouldn’t wake up.

“okay, calm down!” you raised your voice at bachira, who was blabbering about how he was too young to go to jail. shidou was sitting beside the unconscious isagi, slapping him around until you shouted, “stop slapping him!”

huffing a breath, you pulled your hair out of your face and asked the men to help you drag isagi into the bathroom. you managed to hoist him into the tub and laid him between your legs with his back to your chest before sticking your fingers down his throat.

ew, ew, ew, ew, you repeated in your head, grimacing when you heard him gag. you shoved his head forward when he puked and rubbed his back until he sucked in several deep breaths of air.

“you’re alive!” bachira wailed as he flung himself over the edge of the tub and onto his best friend. isagi groaned against you, but he seemed able to sit up on his own, so you stood and stepped out of the bathtub.

“what happened?” he asked, voice rough from puking.

“i cheated and you had to take all the shots and then you wouldn’t wake up and y/n brought you back to life!”

“i died?!”

“you didn’t die.” you tried, but it went in one ear and out the other.

“am i a ghost?! oh god, what if my dick disappeared?! i can’t look. someone look!” bachira nodded in determination and tugged on isagi’s waistband. “it’s there!”

you left the boys to cry over isagi's penis and found shidou making coffee in the kitchenette. "isn't it too early for that?" you asked, still shaking from all the adrenaline.

shidou grinned at you from over his shoulder. "it's not for me. i figured you'd need something after... that." you graciously took the steaming cup from his hands.

"i wasn't expecting my first night to go like this," you admitted with a single dry laugh. he nodded but didn't look very surprised. "yeah, we probably should have warned you. but that? nothing compared to sharing a wall with kaiser."

your brows knit together at his words. "who's kaiser?"

you caught shidou smirking at you from over the rim of your mug. "oh, honey, you'll find out soon enough."

shidouontop started following you!

b4chira started following you!

yoisagi started following you!

masterlist // previous (ch 5) // next (ch 7)

notes -> thank you smsmsmsmsmsm for 800 😭🫶 idk what i’m gonna do for u all if/when i hit 1k so pls lmk if you have any ideas!!

tags -> @x3nafix @n0tbelle @nensi @ohagiyo @tired-child00 @melinana @chaoslibra @kaidostwin @bubybubsters @miss-aesthetic-13 @ihsoti @arwawawa2 @lonigiri @realrintaro @mivqko @sorasushik1 @pookalicious-hq @higuchislut @tofumiarchives @p1z-d0n7jud6em3 @rainychi2 @ch4rstxr @sapph1r3x @sagging-saging @5-laska @tuna-toes @seinuis @sindulgent666 @evilari111 @newinhalerpls @kisses2kanao @sugacor3 @meizumi @90s-belladonna @meowstertruck420 @kyutiipie

© neeeooon, 2025

[r-memberme]

the woman | k.m

⎯⎯"Are you quite finished glaring daggers, love? I believe the poor woman is in danger of bursting into flames under your stare alone," you merely inhaled sharply and said, "How many women have you been with?"

warnings: jealous reader, his body count

You were in a terrible mood.

A mood so terrible that if Klaus so much as breathed the wrong way, you might throw a whole bookshelf at his head.

And he knew it. Oh, he knew it.

Klaus had been watching you with barely concealed amusement for the last hour as you sat stiffly beside him, arms crossed, lips pursed into a sour little thing that only deepened every time you glanced across the room.

Because she was still there. Still there.

The woman—some elegant, annoyingly beautiful vampire—was speaking with Elijah, but you hadn’t missed the way she had looked at Klaus earlier. The way she had leaned in just a little too close, touched his arm a little too easily, smiled a little too sweetly.

And Klaus, smug bastard that he was, had done nothing to reassure you.

He was enjoying this. Reveling in it. The way your jaw tightened, the way your fingers curled into your dress every time he shifted as if he might go over and speak to her. The way you had barely spoken to him since.

You wanted to kill him.

No, first you wanted to interrogate him. Then you would kill him.

So, when he finally turned to you, full of that insufferable, knowing smirk, and drawled, "Are you quite finished glaring daggers, love? I believe the poor woman is in danger of bursting into flames under your stare alone," you merely inhaled sharply and said, "How many women have you been with?"

Klaus actually startled. He had not been expecting that.

He blinked at you, expression caught somewhere between amusement and intrigue. "Come again?"

"You heard me," you said, narrowing your eyes. "How many? And don’t you dare lie to me. You’re a thousand years old, Klaus. You’ve had—what? Dozens? Hundreds?" Your voice pitched slightly, your stomach twisting at the thought. "Thousands?"

Klaus let out a low chuckle, leaning back as if the entire conversation delighted him. "My, my, such interest in my past dalliances. Shall I write you a list? Organize them by century?"

"Don’t test me," you hissed, poking a sharp finger into his chest. "Who was the first?"

"The first?" He raised a brow. "Darling, I was human then. It hardly counts."

"It counts. Who was she?"

Klaus tilted his head, studying you, before smirking. "You really want to know?"

You narrowed your eyes. "Yes."

He leaned in, voice dropping to a murmur, "She was a farmer’s daughter. Had a laugh like chimes. Sweet thing." He paused, lips twitching. "Though, between you and me, I doubt she’d be much competition."

You gasped, shoving him. "Klaus!"

He laughed, outright laughed at your outrage, utterly enchanted by your jealousy. "Oh, come now, love. Surely you don’t expect me to recount every name—"

"I do!" You gritted your teeth. "And I want details."

"Details," he repeated, amused beyond belief.

"Yes! Like—like that one." You pointed across the room at the woman who had been talking to Elijah. "Who is she? Have you slept with her?"

Klaus barely glanced at her. "I haven’t the faintest idea."

"Liar!"

He laughed again, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you flush against him, despite your continued outrage. "Sweetheart, you wound me. Do you really think so little of my devotion?"

"I think you have an obscene amount of ex-lovers and you don’t even remember half their names!" you huffed, still fuming. "Do you even recall the names of the women you have been with?"

Klaus hummed, pressing his lips to your temple in a gesture that was entirely too fond considering you were still contemplating murder. "I recall the only one that matters."

You froze. Just for a second. Just long enough for the meaning to sink in.

Damn him.

You tried, tried not to let it affect you, but Klaus saw the way your breath hitched, the way your fingers twitched against his chest. And oh, his smirk was unbearable now.

"That’s not fair," you muttered, cheeks hot.

"Oh, but love, you were the one so eager for reminiscence." He ran a hand up your back, soothing, teasing. "Shall I continue? Tell you about the Venetian noblewoman who tried to poison me? Or perhaps the pirate’s wife I rather enjoyed scandalizing—"

You slapped a hand over his mouth, scowling. "Shut. Up."

Klaus laughed against your palm, eyes glowing with mirth as he pried your fingers away just enough to murmur, "I think I rather enjoy this side of you, sweetheart."

You huffed, but Klaus merely grinned, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your palm before capturing your chin between his fingers and tilting your face up to his.

"For the record," he murmured, voice softer now, rougher, "there is no one in this world, in any century, who has held my heart the way you do."

Your breath caught, and oh, you hated him for how easily he turned the tables, for how your jealousy melted into something warm and insufferably fond.

Still, you squinted. "You definitely don’t remember half their names, though."

Klaus smirked. "No, love. But I’ll always remember yours."

thank youuu anon for this request <3 I hope you enjoy it! 🤭 tbh I would react the same way

taglist: @ohapple @myworldrightnow @deactiveblogx @witch-of-letters @xtwistedchaosx @liataylorsversion @pardonmydelayyy

[tinyraptorhands]

Whats In A (Nick) Name?

It seemed a little...unfair.

Everyone in class 1-A got a nickname from Katsuki Bakugo. Ears, Shitty Hair, Icy Hot, Dunceface, Raccoon Eyes, Ponytail, Four Eyes, Deku....the list went on.

Everyone, except you-that is.

You two got along well enough. He...tolerated your presence more than most. So...why did he never give you a fun little nickname?!

Sure, maybe in the long run that was a good thing. It wasn't like what he nicknamed people were nice. (Seriously, Soysauce face?? Poor Sero. And Round cheeks? Ochako deserved better!) So. You did what any sane person would do.

You gave *him* nicknames.

"Ratsuki!" "Bakubeans!" "Bomberboy!" "Kit Kat!" "Katsudon!" "Bakustayawhile!" (Admittedly, the last one was pretty lame, but you were running out of ideas.)

And each time Katsuki gave you his signature glare and would huff and puff.

Classic.

And yet...you *still* hadn't earned a coveted Katsuki branded Nickname! It was just...either 'you' or your last name.

How boring.

"Y/N, I really don't understand why you're so adamant on getting him to give you a nickname." Tsuyu said to you one day as you both ate lunch.

"Seriously, it's kinda not a good thing." Ochako waved her chopsticks dismissively.

You shook your head. "No, see, you don't get it. *Everyone* has a nickname! And yet it's like I don't even register in his brain! I feel left out! An outcast! A reject!!"

"Thats...a little extreme, don't you think?" Midoriya sweatdropped, and Tenya nodded.

"Really! You should be grateful he isn't making fun of you or your quirk!" The class president said, hands chopping in their usual way.

Nah. You weren't buying it. Something was up. "Mark my words. I *will* have a nickname by the end of this year."

The four of them looked at you. You clearly were a lost cause.

And so, you continued to harass the ash blonde grump.

"Hey, Katsup!" You called out to him in the common room, passing by. Apparently, Katsuki had had enough.

"DAMMIT WHAT IS WITH THE STUPID ASS NAMES!? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?" He finally snapped, veins pulsing in his head and neck, palms sparking.

Bingo.

"Well. You give everyone else a nickname." You deadpanned.

"So!? What makes you think I want or need one!?" Katsuki grunted, fingers twitching at his sides.

"Because you haven't given me one!"

He was silent. Almost gobsmacked, really.

"...What?" He finally spoke. You sighed as if it were a hassle to talk about.

"You've given *everyone* in class a nickname. Everyone except me. What's the deal??" You put your hands on your hips. "Am I just unworthy of your blessing??"

"B-blessing!? Are you stupid??" Katsuki pinched the bridge of his nose.

"No, just feeling left out-"

"You don't need one." He stated, cutting you off. You frowned.

"What?? Why not!?" You clenched your fists. "Aren't we friends!?"

"Thats not the poi-"

"Am I just some dumb forgettable extra?!"

"Will you shut u-"

"Just tell m-"

He suddenly came up to you, grabbing you by the shoulders. He gave you a look that could kill, and you swallowed.

"You want a nickname?" He asked, voice low. You blushed at his proximity, but nodded. "Fine. But you should know, I didn't give you one for a reason."

You blinked, and cocked your head. "...Why?"

He shook his head. "Because you're too good for a nickname. And if I gave you one..." he blushed, "I'd want it to mean something special. To mean..." he looked down, taking a slow breath through his nose. "...Dammit. I'd want it to mean you were mine."

Oh.

You felt your face heat up.

"...Yeah?" You squeaked out. He nodded.

"Yeah. So....if you want a nickname..." His eyes met yours, "y'gotta be mine, first."

You bit your lip, blushing. "...Okay. Then...I'll be yours."

He smirked. "Good choice...Sweetheart."

((I will get the last part of You Scratch My Back out soon. I just had this stuck in my head forever. I honestly was stuck on what he could call the reader, so if you dont like Sweetheart, you could easily replace it. I was thinking sunshine, but that's kinda specific, so...yeah.))

[vodika-vibes]

You Don't Want Me

Summary: In a world where the majority of people are split into Alphas or Omegas, you’re one of the small portion of the population who isn’t either. You’ve long since come to terms with the fact that you’re never going to have a romantic partner, and you’re, mostly, fine with it. You just wish that your neighbor would stop flirting with you.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x F! Reader

Word Count: 1384

Warnings: A/B/O but it's not smut, I'm just playing around in the setting. Technically the reader could be read as GN but I put them in a sundress.

A/N: So I had an idea, and this was born. I hope people like it, lol

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

“Well now, don’t you look pretty today,”

You roll your eyes as the familiar voice of your neighbor reaches your ears. “Thanks, I guess.”

Crosshair grins at you, rolling his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other, “You’re welcome,” You ignore the way his eyes flicker down your body with practiced ease, “You got a hot date today or something?”

“All this because I’m wearing a sundress? No, Crosshair. I don’t date, you know that.” You straighten from where you had been messing with one of your planters, “Not that it is any of your business if I go on a date or not.”

His grin widens, “I’m just looking out for you. People are scum, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You squint at him, “Is there a reason you’re hanging out in my backyard?”

He shrugs, “We have a shared backyard, neighbor. You don’t like it, put up some fences.”

You huff out an exasperated laugh, and shake your head, “You know, someday you’re going to find an omega who’s going to be really annoyed with how obsessed you are with me.”

He pauses, his long fingers absently tapping his thigh, and then he smirks, “Nah.”

“Nah? The fuck you mean ‘nah’?”

Crosshair, like all of his brothers, is an alpha. Alphas partner up with omegas. Its what they do. Something about pheromones and hormones and biology. You’re not really sure.

You never had to learn because you don’t have any of those characteristics.

Scientists, and doctors, call people like you Mu. Halfway between an Alpha and an Omega. In the end, all it means is that you’re a freak.

But you’re fine with it. You have to be. What other choice do you have?

“Having an omega is way too much work, have you heard how Tech’s girl whines for him? Like, all of the time. I’m surprised Hunter hasn’t killed her. Even I find her voice grating.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to talk about your sister-in-law like that?”

“Meh. She already hates me, it’s not like she can hate me more.” He crosses your backyard to peer over your shoulder at your garden, “Your herbs look like they’re coming in nice.”

You’re slightly surprised by the topic change, but you go along with it happily, “Yeah! I was worried because the sage did so poorly last year, but I must have gotten the soil PH right this year.”

You turn to look up at Crosshair, and your smile falters when you see the look on his face. It’s a soft look, with a small affectionate smile that smooths out the harsh lines of his face into something gentler.

It’s a look Crosshair directs towards you regularly, and it’s a look that never fails to make you blush. And today is no exception, as you hurriedly spin away from him to check your other planter before he notices the effect he has on you.

And, as ever, he releases a quiet chuckle that gives you goosebumps.

“What else do you have growing?” Crosshair asks, his breath warm against your ear. He’s close enough that you can feel him pressed against your back.

It really isn’t fair that he keeps doing this to you. He’s an alpha and he knows you’re not an omega. He’s just being cruel for the hell of it, you suppose.

“Um…” You step away from him slightly, grateful and disappointed when he doesn’t follow you, “Tomatoes, broccoli, and a couple of other herbs. I have hot peppers growing in the other planter over there.”

“I’ll have to remember to mention that to Wrecker when it comes time for the harvest,” Crosshair mutters, “He’s always complaining about how expensive peppers are.”

“Well, I’m happy to share. I always have too many anyway.”

You glance away from him and lean over to check on one of your tomato plants, only to squeak and jump when you feel his finger drag up your spine from the small of your back.

You spin around to stare at him, your eyes wide. His fingers, which had been resting comfortably on the back of your neck, now sit right over the pulse point on your throat, and he looks at you like the cat that caught the canary.

“Um...what…?” You try to take a step back but you’re so close to your planter that you don’t have anywhere to go, and when you try you almost lose your balance, so Crosshair has to hurriedly wrap his free hand around your waist to keep you steady.

“Why do you keep running from me? Am I that intimidating to you?”

“No, that’s not—,” You trail off, you can feel your heart racing from nerves, and you know he can feel it too.

“Then what’s the problem?” He carefully maneuvers you and walks you back until your back bumps against the cool material of your home, “I’m not blind or stupid, I can see how you look at me.”

“That’s—“

“—and I can feel how your heart is racing now that I’m touching you. You’re clearly attracted to me, and yet, every time, you run away. Why?”

“I’m not an omega.” You blurt, “I...You—“

He scoffs, “I told you. I have no interest in having an omega.”

“Sure, you say that now, but—“

His eyes narrow at you, “But what? You think I’m the kind of man who would let my hormones control me?”

You don’t have an answer to that, because the truth is, in your experience, all alphas are. Example 1? Your former boyfriend who cheated on you as soon as he ran into an omega in heat.

You don’t have to answer, your silence is answer enough, and he scoffs again. “You do. What kind of shitty alphas have you been around, pretty?”

“That’s not...he couldn’t help his nature…” You trail off, not sure why you’re defending your ex.

“No. He’s just a shitty guy who used his hormones as an excuse to be a dick to you.” Crosshair leans in to press his face into your hair, “Fuck, you smell so good. Like sunshine and the beach—“

“...I’m sorry?”

“That was a compliment, pretty. You smell so much better.”

You feel like there’s a part of this conversation that you missed, but you don’t want to ask him for clarification, not when he’s pressed against you like this. Not when you can feel his lips on the shell of your ear.

But, you do make one, final, attempt to dissuade him from this. “Cross...I’m pretty sure that you don’t want me—“

You’re not able to finish your sentence as he pulls away and pins you in place with a severe look, “You don’t get to decide what, or who, I want.”

You shoot him a doubtful look.

“Fine, let me speak plainly then. I want you. Only you. Since the day we met.” His words make heat rush to your face, and you want to avert your gaze, but he won’t let you look away, “I have no interest in the drama that comes with partnering with an omega. And, to be completely frank, the scent of omega pheromones gives me a migraine.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” He bumps his forehead against yours, “So, give me a chance?”

You stare at him, your heart in your throat.

This has the potential to go so wrong. And you know, in the same way you know the sun will rise in the morning, that if it does, you’re going to be the one hurt. Again.

But you want to trust Crosshair.

And you’re so tired of being alone all the time.

So, even though fear and uncertainty have you in a vice grip, you don’t stop yourself from reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck. And your actions are rewarded with a look of pleasure.

“So?” Crosshair asks.

“If you break my heart,” You warn him, “I’ll find some way to make your life miserable.”

“Noted.” He bumps his nose against yours, “I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Yes, please.”

And then his lips are against yours and it’s not perfect. It’s a little awkward and a little clumsy, and your teeth knock together. But you wouldn’t change it for anything in the galaxy.

@heidnspeak

@justiceandwar98

@etod

@lonewolflupe

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@yoitsjay

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@six-1mpossiblethings

[sixpounder]

the honda odyssey fucks hard!

deadpool (wade wilson) x f wolverine variant!reader

summary: the honda odyssey fucks hard! too bad deadpool does too.

warnings: mature content mdni(unprotected sex, creampie fight sex, dry humping, violence, inappropriate language)

word count: 2k

lowercase intended

the road stretched endlessly ahead, the hum of the tires filling the silence between you and deadpool. you had your hands on the wheel, gripping it so tightly your knuckles turned white. beside you, wade was sprawled out in the passenger seat, boots propped up on the dash like he owned the place.

it had been quiet for too long, so of course, he had to ruin it.

“so,” wade drawled, stretching. “if they can fix your world, what's the first thing you're gonna do when you get out of here?”

you didn’t even look at him. “get some tequila shots. maybe a wiper fluid chaser if i’m feeling reckless.”

he let out a low whistle. “damn. a woman after my own heart. you trying to impress me? because it’s working.”

“you’re a low bar.”

“ouch. right in my emotionally stunted heart.” he pressed a hand to his chest, feigning pain.

you rolled your eyes, focusing on the road, until something clicked in your brain.

“wait…what did you say?”

wade blinked at you. “i said, when we get out of here, what’s the first thing you’re gonna do?”

“no. no. before that.”

there was a pause. wade hesitated, then muttered, “…if they can fix your world?”

your heart stopped. the wheel creaked beneath your fingers.

“what do you mean, ‘if’?”

he shifted uncomfortably. “i mean… y’know…”

you turned to look at him, and your glare could have burned a hole through his mask.

“…you lied to me.”

wade’s hands shot up. “no, no, no! i mean-ow, fuck-”

you slammed the brakes. the honda odyssey lurched forward, sending wade crashing into the dashboard with a satisfying thud.

“fuck! my spleen! my second spleen! my third- wait, how many spleens do i have?”

you grabbed him by the collar of his suit, yanking him close until his masked face was inches from yours.

“you don’t have a fucking clue if they can help me fix things, do you?”

“no! i mean-ow-fuck!-”

you slammed him back against the seat.

“you lied.”

“no! i made an educated wish!”

“an educated wish?” you echoed, voice dripping with venom.

“yes, it’s like an educated guess but with more ‘please let this work, universe’ energy!”

you glared at him, chest rising and falling with rage, but he wasn’t squirming the way a normal person would be. no, he was looking at you, really looking at you, like he was enjoying this.

you bared your teeth. “you think this is funny?”

“no.” a beat. “…okay, maybe a little.”

your claws popped out, the metallic snikt filling the van. wade let out a low whistle.

“god, that’s sexy.”

“shut up.”

you were about to carve his throat out, but then, he pulled something out of his suit. a photo. crumpled, bloodstained. you frowned, staring down at it.

“…what is this?”

his voice was quieter now. “my entire world.”

you hesitated. the photo was of a woman, dark-haired, beautiful, smiling up at the camera. vanessa. you recognized her. there were others in the picture, too, faces that meant something to him.

“it’s only nine people,” wade continued, “and i have no idea how to save it alone.”

you felt something in your chest tighten. you hated that.

his voice softened. “i know how to fuck people up for money. but you? you know how to save ‘em.”

you swallowed. looked away. “i don’t know how to save worlds.”

he smirked, head tilting. “no, but you sure as hell know how to ruin a man’s entire f*cking life with just a look. and i gotta say… it’s kinda hot.”

you rolled your eyes. “you’re unbelievable.”

“and yet, here i am, trapped in a minivan with the sexiest murder machine i’ve ever met.”

your eyes flickered down to his lips before you could stop yourself.

no. no. absolutely not.

“i should kill you” you muttered.

“i mean, you could try, but i’d probably moan about it.”

that was it. you swung, but he caught your wrist.

the radio clicked on.

the air shifted. your breath hitched.

then, you both lunged.

the honda odyssey rocked violently as you slammed into each other. claws scraped against fabric. wade was laughing, arms wrapped around your waist as you pinned him down against the seat.

“oh, you dirty bitch” he groaned, hands sliding down to your hips.

“you love it” you shot back.

“i really, really do.”

he flipped you over, but you yanked him back.

he slammed you into the dashboard.

“fuck!” you growl, shaking off the hit. pain flares through your ribs, but it’s already healing. your head snaps up, eyes burning with rage.

wade is sitting in the backseats, chest rising and falling, hands flexing at his sides. his mask is torn, exposing the cockiest fucking smirk you’ve ever seen.

he brings up two fingers. flicks them toward himself. a gesture as if to say ‘come here’.

“i take it all back.” his voice is low, smug, taunting, throwing his head back. “the honda odyssey fucks hard! too bad we don’t, baby.”

your stomach flips.

rage coils in your chest, but it’s not just that, it’s something else. something dangerous. something that makes your breath come faster, your heart slam harder.

you crawl back to him, straddling his lap. you reach for his throat, pressing your claws against his neck, but not enough to cut him.

too close.

his breath is hot against your lips.

his other hand trails down your side, slow, teasing.

his mask was half-torn, revealing his mouth, his scars. His eyes, behind the fabric, were blown wide.

“I should throw you out of this car” you murmured, but your hands were still gripping his suit.

“I’d just climb back in,” he muttered. “you mad at me, sweetheart?” his voice is playful.

“you’re an asshole.”

“yeah, but you like it.”

your heart is hammering.

his mask is half gone, and his lips are right there.

fuck it.

you crash your mouth against his.

wade grunts in surprise but melts into it instantly.

his grip on your hips tightens, his other hand sliding into your hair. his lips are warm, rough, desperate. his teeth graze your bottom lip, and you growl, nipping at his in return.

the kiss turns filthy.

your claws sink into his shoulders. he groans, but presses closer. his hands gripping your hip.

his hand moves from your hair, trailing lower.

dangerously low.

you break away, panting.

his lips are swollen, pink. his eyes are blown wide, pupils dark.

“…are we still fighting?” you breathe.

his grin is wicked.

“god, i hope so.”

and then, he’s kissing you again.

harder. rougher.

his hand grabbed your ass firmly, and squeezed it, pulling you harder against him with a groan that's half pleasure, half pain from your claws.

you rolled your hips against his to tease him. he inhaled sharply as you ground against him, his grip on your ass tightening. a grin spreaded across his face, even as his hips bucked involuntarily to meet yours. you moaned, feeling him hardening under you. one of his hands moves to your jaw, tilting your head for better access as his lips find your neck. he nibbled, sucked, left a mark, knowing it'll heal in seconds with your healing factor.

you kept grinding against him, trying to create some friction where you needed him. he groaned, his hands moving to your hips. he lifted you slightly, adjusting your position so that you're lined up with the bulge in his pants and held you in place, his hips thrusting upward in a slow, teasing rhythm. his breath hitches as you ground against him, his fingers digging into your hips. “shit…”

you reached out for the zipper of your yellow and black suit, pulling it down. his eyes widened, a smirk curling his lips. “well, somebody's eager…” he reached up, helping you tug the zipper all the way down. his hands slipped inside, helping you out the suit.

as soon as you undressed yourself, you kissed him again, desperately. he met your desperate kiss with his own. his hands roamed your bare back possessively. one hand slid down to cup your ass again. he boosted you up slightly, then ground up again, making you moan. he swallowed the sound, then broke the kiss, panting heavily. his hands moved to the front of his own pants, quickly undoing them. he shoved them down just enough to free himself. he was already hard.

he grinned wickedly at your hungry gaze “like what you see, claws?” he teased. without warning, he lifted you and positions you, rubbing the tip teasingly against your entrance. you moaned and pressed yourself more against him.

he groaned at the feeling, his hands gripping your hips tighter. with a swift movement, he thrusted up, entering you in one smooth motion. he stays still for a moment, savoring the feeling. “fuck... you're so tight…”

you started riding him, going up and down slowly, just to annoy him. he tightened his jaw, his fingers digging into your hips again. you were teasing him, with slow, torturous movements. he swallowed a growl. he let you control the rhythm, knowing full well you were trying to drive him crazy.

you smirk and start tracing a line of small wet kisses along his jaw. his breath hitched, the slow ride driving him insane. he tried to maintain control, but it was slipping. his hands slid up your back, gripping your shoulders, trying to make you increase the pace.

“wow so i made you shut your mouth for longer then 2 minutes? record” you teased him, whispering it into his ear. he snarled at your teasing, his control snapping. he started thrusting up hard and fast, chasing his release. one hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a brutal kiss. you kissed him back.

he was hitting every right spot inside of you, making you a moaning mess. he felt you tightening around him, your moans spurring him on. his hips thrusted relentlessly, each thrust deliberately aimed at that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “you’re not teasing anymore, are you?” he teased with a smirk.

“fuck off and keep going” you ordered, trying to not sound too desperate, but failing. he chuckled darkly, obeying your order with a renewed vigor. his pace becomes almost punishing, each powerful thrust stirring up those delicious sensations within you. "yes, ma'am" he quipped sarcastically, though his strained voice betrays his own desperation.

you could feel you were close, and by the way your pussy was tightening around his cock he could tell too. his breathing became ragged. one hand moves between you to rub your clit in fast circles, pushing you closer to the edge. "c'mon, claws..." he rasped, knowing exactly what he was doing to you.

“oh fuck” you cried out loud as you finally reached your orgasm. he growled as he felt you convulse around him, pulling him deeper. his own release was right there, but he wanted more. he kept thrusting, drawing out your release, making you whimper and shudder. "not done"

you were crying out for the overstimulation, everything was so sensitive. he showed no mercy, continuing to thrust into you as you try to squirm away from the overwhelming sensations. his fingers continued their relentless rubbing, pushing you towards another release you were not ready for. "look at me”. you tried to look at him despite the urge to close your eyes and roll your head back.

his eyes locked onto yours, intense and unyielding. he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss as he pushed you over the edge again. his hips stuttering as he finally reached his own release inside you. “fuck” you said out of breath, you were shaking.

he continued to kiss you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth as he slowly came down from his high. he broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing heavy. "fuck, i love the way you come apart for me..."

“oh shut up” after a minute or two of silence, you finally gave in. “ok, i’ll help you save your world”

a/n: let me know you liked it, and if you did, don’t be scared to like, comment or reblog, it would really help me since this blog is new. let me know if you have any kind of request, not just for deadpool, it can be of any marvel character or more, i’m happy to write them <3

[raymoo--hackery]

I've been brainstorming a lot more about my Storches. A lot.

And as you can see from this doodle, the cadre has increased!!

There's still a LOT I'm pondering but here's a good ol' yap about some of the potential ideas of have rn :3

I've just had them on my mind the past week or so, cus I want to expand on them more and give them some sort of story and more dynamics with each other.

Bcus I thought it would be funny to make a full cadre of Storches and then imagine the slice of life scenarios these Storches would get up to. (that I will derail eventually bcus I always do. Evil in my heart <3)

I won't elaborate much on personality for the initial 3, as that's kind of in the original artwork lol.

I've been pondering names for them, someone gave me the idea to do mythology based names, so I went with that and I want to make each Storch have their name derived from a different mythological background.

So far I settled on 2 (two) of their names, pretty obvious ones too, Athena for the veteran and Fenrir for that insane bastard, as you can see.

Also I might make Athena and that people pleaser bitch kiss just for fun teehee :3

Been considering it.

Seriously considering it.

Yuri in my head.

Also been thinking a lot on Fenrir cus I want her to be as much of a menace as possible for as long as possible before she gets decommissioned so it's like how can I do I make her do the most abhorrent shit without getting killed on the spot.

I once again have some ideas, and I know for sure I want her to off her Star mentor and a Kolibri at the very least.

Been pondering the idea of her killing a Falke right before she perishes, just bcus Fenrir killed Odin during Ragnarok and then immediately got killed by one of Odins sons afterwards, but I'm not 100% on that idea yet.

As for the other two newer additions I've had in mind, they're both leaning into the booknerd aspect of Storches.

The first (the one in the middle of that doodle) I imagine to be the kind of Storch who appears like a quiet bookworm, but then will say the most snarkyass statement you've ever heard completely uncalled for.

Like all the other Storches could be arguing about something and she'll just be off in the corner reading and seemingly not giving single shit until at the perfect time she pipes up and says some sarcastic condescending passive aggressiveass statement that somehow manages to make everyone turn on her, and she'll be like "whaaaat I did nothing wrong I've just been reading".

She'd try to weasel her way out of trouble the same way I think lol.

She very much knows what she's doing and enjoys it.

The other booknerd Storch (on the far left) I just imagine Storch autism final boss.

Simply put "erm actually ☝️🤓" type Storch.

Reads every single book that's owned in the library, anything extra she can get her hands on (even if it's contraband), and then she WILL argue with you on it if you dare get any fact or plot point WRONG (including if you have the wrong opinion on something).

Or if someone says something, anything, and she happens to overhear, she WILL stick her two cents in and WILL insist that she is correct.

Incredible Storch autism on full display.

Now some extra details.

Obvs Athena fought in a war before retiring from the fight and being stationed wherever and whatever this facility is, she's unit 01, unmentored, and the oldest at 7 yrs.

Unit 02 is the snarkyass bitch, I imagine she's a fairly recent deployment, having been only a temporary in maybe one or two other facilities before being officially assigned to this one, mentored and 3 yrs.

Unit 03 is our people pleasing friend, who was at a different facility prior to moving to this one, also unmentored and insecure and using the WORST coping mechanisms ever, but it's ok cus now Athena can help her out <3 also she's 5 yrs.

Now after those three idk if I want to add some more inbetweens or not, that will be pending, but for now:

Unit 04 or 05 is Storch autism central, newer hire and mentored, I think she'd be around 1-2 yrs, has only ever been working for this facility.

Unit 06 or 07 would be Fenrir and she is a little baby (< 1 yr) also mentored (until she killed her mentor) she just got deployed specifically for this facility and she already has a lot of problems idek what's wrong with her tbh.

I've also been considering some other Replikas.

One such is a fucking insanely delusional Star who thinks "I can fix her" towards Fenrir (she can't.) (no yuri will happen.) (she will get mauled.) I just think it's funny <3

And then maybe an ARAR to go with my fuckin nerdass Storch.

Yapper x listener type shit.

Just considerations tho nothing set in stone.

Everything is just a mess of ideas I'm pondering honestly, all subject to changes.

But yeah. I love Storches. There will be more. Thank you.

ONE MILLION STORCHES!!!!!

For those who don't follow my twt, you missed the hundreds of millions of rants I go on about Storches. BCUS I LOVE STORCHES!!!

I was peeved by the fact Storches only often get portrayed in one particular way... and even tho they have a fair amount of fanart and fanworks, they don't feel like they have many fans...

It peeves me for many reasons, but I'm not about to get into it here, so you can seek it out on my twt or bsky if you're curious.

Anyways, this handful of Storches was born from that; from wanting to see more Storch variety, and more ways to portray a Storch's anger!! Anger in general really, feels like one of the emotions that gets done dirty the most in media.

I just love Storches soooo much. I LOOOOVE STORCHES. RAYMOO HACKERY. #1 STORCH DEFENDER. STORCHMAXX CENTRAL. I want Storches to have more appreciation!!!!! I will be part of Storch Nation until I DIE. Carry it on my back if I must.

Oh yeah have this stupid meme too

[gramnel]

absolutely unrelated arts because I didn't want to spam post it

[hancfubuki]

caleb notices first hand how easy it was to mess with him. definitely something he enjoyed, a tease at heart, not being able to hold back a chuckle when rafayel complained. “relaaaaax.” he’s not naive, or at least he didn’t consider himself of the sort. caleb believed in his own convictions, and wouldn’t be fooled as easy as others. he knew when to fight and what for, when he should offer his kindness and show his real self. rafayel didn’t strike him as a liar, but, after everything he has gone through, it was only normal to have his doubts. he relaxes his body, the fingertip that previously tapped the other’s forehead moved to his hair again, playing with the purple waves, curling it against his finger. soft. and too presumptuous as well. “disciple, follower, pet. i am anything you want. and i’m not complaining either."

rafayel seems attentive when listening to him, and despite his voice coming off as calm, there was some sense of pain within it. yet he doesn’t reply, and simply allows rafayel to continue. what was he supposed to say? to admit that he killed that woman with his own hands in revenge and got nothing in return? that the vengeance didn’t make up for the pain he suffered? hmm- no. a subject for another day. “cilantro is an ugly green herb with such a disgusting flavor. i am glad i cannot find it here.” he smiles, still playing with his hair as he starts listening to what the other has to say. the deity seemed youthful in his eyes, and listening to what he had to say also confirmed it. “was it the only time you have been up there?” caleb asks with genuine curiosity, now all his fingers running through the god’s hair. it felt so familiar to him at this point, letting his eyelids to fall again as a hum leaves his lips upon hearing he killed her. alright, maybe they had more in common than he thinks.

“maybe.” he couldn’t help but give a soft squeeze at his body, as if trying to relieve him. caleb wasn’t the kind to betray trust, but he understands it would take more than words to prove that. trust will come with time.

“i killed her too.” he admits quietly, his voice steady but his gaze distant fixed at the ‘sky’ above him. “i thought it was gonna make me feel better, it didn’t. but what’s done it’s done. i guess those moments of my life drove me here today.” caleb believed things happened for a reason, if he was still alive after everything, there had to be something left for him to fulfill. something that explained why he had been granted this unnaturally long life.

his fingers sank into the soft, silky strands of rafayel’s hair, the texture grounding him in a way he hadn’t anticipated. caleb lets out a slow breath, his touch growing gentler as if he was afraid to shatter the sudden intimacy shared. he is unsure what it was about rafayel, maybe it was the calm in his presence, or the way he didn't flinch under his sudden closeness and invasion of personal space. this man basically killed him not so long ago, yet here he is, enjoying this quiet moment of bonding. it feels safe, comfortable even.

“you’ve got a way of silencing all the noise in my head, you know that?” he said, his voice soft. “it’s… unsettling, but not in a bad way. makes me wonder if you’re real, or just some cruel trick my mind’s playing on me.” his lips curve into a faint smile, but there’s a weight behind his words, a hesitance that betray his vulnerability. he had spent so long being on guard, questioning everyone’s intentions, that the idea of letting his walls down, even just a little, felt alien. his fingers stilled in rafayel’s hair for a moment, his gaze dropping to meet the deity’s. “have you ever feel that way? like the world is too cruel to give you something good without a catch?” he didn’t wait for an answer, letting his hand continue its slow, absentminded motions through the god’s hair. the action was as much for his own comfort as it was for rafayel’s. caleb’s mind wandered back to the things he’d done, the people he’d lost. he didn’t regret his choices, in fact, he couldn’t afford to, but the scars they left were undeniable. “i think,” he started, his voice quieter now, “that’s why i don’t mind sticking around. this is different. it makes me forget how heavy everything feels.” his lips twitch into a smirk, the momentary sincerity giving way to his usual teasing. “plus, you’re entertaining to mess with. that frown of yours?" he presses his thumb lightly to the crease between rafayel's brows, with a playful grin. "iconic. you’re still a cute lemurian.”

To prove he wasn't lying.

That makes him ponder for a moment, wondering what he could do to prove his honesty without giving away everything he had. Moreover, what could he prove when there were no definite answers? Just as he had said, he would do his best to lead him to his end as desired, but whether it would be granted in one final blow or if it would take more research, he is unsure as well. "You should restudy the temperament and nature Lemurians if you think I'd stoop so low as to toy with your heartfelt desires." He says with a huff, playful enough to push the topic aside. But he doesn't provide an answer just yet. He's unsure if he can trust everything he says either, if he should allow him the secrets of his culture and the fake sun, what they need to do in order to keep their peaceful land running.

It was far too soon to show weaknesses.

Rafayel opens his eyes, looking up curiously. An inflated ego? Little seashell? There were many things he wanted to poke at, complain about, or ask for an explanation- but he is very confused how calling him his disciple was considered egoistical when he... huh. Then he feels the poke on his forehead, which has him crease between his brows, and tilt his head back to look at him. "Did you not vow to be my disciple? You agreed to be my follower, or do you humans not call a follower of a God 'disciples'?" They may have a different language, but Rafayel knew Caleb's by heart, as did his people as they collected knowledge the same way they did with art. Besides, was language not an artform? Still, who knows what differences they had? Or, Caleb was just trying to find more reasons to tease him.

But... he could appreciate the sentiment. Just a gift, because he heard that Rafayel liked them. Taking his time to carve him out on the delicate shell, personally for him. He wonders how many shells he had to go through to get it done, or if he was lucky and did it first try.

The Lemurian is surprised his request is granted so easily, but he doesn't move from his spot, listening to his story as he wishes to tell it. Caleb was a lot older than he was. Understandably so, considering the desperation he held that fateful day he asked to be killed, as well as the curse locked upon his human body. Never has he heard of 'gravity' before, but he supposed it was something similar to the buoyancy of water, the pressure of waves, a force that either lifted sea creatures or sunk ships from the surface. Rafayel was intrigued, curious of this power he earned because he seemed proud of the power in itself. But he continues on, a much more tragic story that he speaks of in such a light tone, he cannot help feeling empathetic, unable to keep his eyes closed when Caleb was pouring out his history. I wanted to get rid of it, he says, and Rafayel wonders if he hated the power itself or if the experiments had forced him to hate a gift he was bestowed.

"I hope the woman got what she deserved." And it was impossible to mistake Rafayel's words for pity, condemning the woman who could do that to one of her own, pure rage bubbling over. He had always been expressive, not one to hide his emotions. Even when he had tried to do so as his people's leader, he couldn't help that he felt so deeply, more thoughts and feelings than he could completely control. A weakness of youth, the elders lectured him often. However, this was one trait of humans he could never bring himself to understand- how they could do such cruel acts to their own kind without remorse, or to any living being that cried tears and wailed in pain, screaming hoarse pleas.

A sigh escapes him, shaking his head. "I've never seen a Cilantro before. It doesn't grow here in Lemuria. Aren't you glad?" That last fact seemed so silly compared to the dark topic from before, he wondered if he was always this weird, or if he was trying to lighten up the mood.

"I went up to human land once."

A story for a story, he decides. "It wasn't long before my Coming of Age ceremony. I was a cute little Lemurian curious of the human world, so I decided to sneak out and enter a human town for the first time." Playful, and a handful as usual. "It was so much trouble finding a way past the gate without the elders finding out." Though it had taken accumulated years to succeed. "It was so hot and dry up on land, I passed out on the beach just a few steps away from the water. Then, a kind girl offered her help. She saw my Lemurian form and still took me in, taking care of me for a while." His eyes turn a little melancholic before he dramatically waves his hand outwards as a matter of fact-ly and huffing poshly.

"But she betrayed me, so I killed her and the people she brought. It fails to surprise me that your men attempted to do the same-" Truly, history simply repeats itself every time he meets a human. But... he lets his eyes meet Caleb's, a playful glint in his eyes as pink shined under the light. "Maybe, three will be my lucky number." The third time's the charm.

[ame-to-ame]

Creative writing inspiration hit pls do not hit right now but also stay for when I'm. Less busy.

[verstappenverse]

Knight of My Heart

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: After one too many drinks, a protective Max arrives right when you need him most.

1.7k words / Masterlist

It was nearly 2am when Max’s phone buzzed on his nightstand, dragging him from the edges of sleep. The faint light from his screen illuminated the dark room, and he reached for it with a groggy hand, squinting at the text that appeared.

“She’s drunk. Like realllly drunk. Can you come get her?”

Max sat up, his heart already sinking. The message was from one of your friends, someone whose name he only half-remembered from the countless times they’d insisted they’d “watch out for you.” Max knew better by now. He sighed, raking a hand through his messy hair, before throwing the sheets off and quickly pulling on a hoodie and jeans.

The drive to the club was quiet, but Max’s mind wasn’t. He hated these nights. It wasn’t just the thought of you being drunk and vulnerable, it was the idea that you were so carefree and beautiful, and people always noticed. Too many times Max had seen guys try to get too close, their smiles too slick and intentions too obvious.

When he finally pulled up outside the club he saw you almost immediately. His grip on the steering wheel tightened.

You were leaning against a lamp post near the curb swaying slightly in your heels, a dazed smile on your face as a man hovered beside you. Max’s chest tightened at the sight. The guy was too close, his body angled toward yours as he spoke animatedly, gesturing with his hands. You laughed softly at whatever he said, your voice carrying over the low thrum of the music spilling from the club’s entrance.

Max killed the engine and climbed out, his jaw set. His strides were purposeful, closing the distance between you in seconds.

“Maxie!” you squealed the moment you spotted him, your arms flinging open in delight.

“You’re here!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around his torso and nearly toppling yourself over in the process.

The guy looked over at Max, not at all intimidated, but Max didn’t care. His jaw tightened, his fists clenching by his sides as he stepped closer.

“You good?” Max asks you, his voice a little rougher than usual.

The man gave Max a once-over, clearly sizing him up. “She seems fine to me,” he said, his tone too casual for Max’s liking.

Max’s eyes narrowed, the jealousy coursing through him now unmistakable. He took a step closer to him. “Oh because you know her so well, right?” he asked the guy, voice clipped.

With a taunting smirk, the guy raised his hands in mock surrender. “She was just telling me about her night. She looked like she needed some company.”

Max wasn’t having it, he stands tall, his body blocking your view of the man now. “Right, I don’t think you understand,” Max replied dryly, placing a firm hand on your waist. “I’m her boyfriend, she's mine. Thanks for your concern, but I’ll take it from here.”

The man’s lips twitched, as though he wanted to argue, but something in Max’s gaze seemed to convince him otherwise. With a tight nod, he muttered a quick, “Whatever man,” and walked off into the crowd.

As the guy disappeared, Max’s frustration didn’t completely fade, but he focused right back on you. Guiding you towards his car, hand never leaving your side. You leaned into him, your cheek resting against his shoulder the alcohol making your limbs feel heavy.

You looked up at him, your face slightly flushed, your eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” you asked quietly.

Max’s lips press together tightly, trying to ignore the flare of jealousy still lingering. “I’m fine,” he said, even though he’s anything but. "Just... I want you to be safe alright?"

You nod, though your head wobbles slightly. "I know... just wanted to have some fun…long week."

Max exhaled slowly, his tension only easing slightly as he turned to you. You were beaming up at him, clearly oblivious to the small confrontation that had just unfolded.

“I get it,” he said softly, his hand steadying you at your waist. “But where are your friends?”

“They’re inside,” you mumbled, waving a hand vaguely toward the club entrance. “Or somewhere. I don’t know. I came out to get some air.”

Max sighed, scanning the area for any sign of your group. Just then a few of your friends emerged from the club giggling.

“Max!” One of them called her tone far too cheery. “She’s all yours.”

Max’s brows furrowed, his frustration bubbling over. “Why did you let her get this drunk?” he snapped. “Anything could’ve happened to her out here!”

Your friend blinked, her smile faltering. “She’s a big girl Max. Besides, we knew you’d come.”

“That’s not the point,” Max said, his voice sharp. "You should’ve made sure she was safe.”

Your friends exchanged glances mumbling something, he exhaled heavily running a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m glad you've all had fun, but next time just… watch out for her yeah? She’s very important to me.” He gazed down at you.

Your friends exchanged glances, some looking sheepish, others visibly annoyed at his tone.

“We had it under control Max,” one of your friends said, her tone defensive. “We weren’t going to babysit her all night.”

Max’s jaw clenched. “Being there for your friend isn’t babysitting, it’s just what you do.”

Another friend, the quieter one of the group spoke up “Okay Max. We’ll keep a better eye on her next time, promise.”

“Thank you,” he said simply, looking back down at you. Your eyes were half-closed, a lazy smile on your lips as you mumbled something unintelligible against his chest.

Max shook his head, a mix of exasperation and fondness crossing his face. “Alright,” he said to the group, his tone a little lighter now. “I’m taking her home. Get back safely.”

“We will,” the quieter friend said, giving him a small, apologetic smile.

Max turned to you with a sigh of relief. “Let’s get you home.”

Max guided you to the car, his hand never leaving your waist. You leaned into him heavily, giggling at every little thing, the way his hand steadied you, the low muttering under his breath, even the way he opened the car door for you like you were royalty.

“You’re so nice to me Maxie,” you said, settling into the passenger seat with a content sigh.

“I’m always nice to you,” he replied, pulling the seatbelt across your body and clicking it into place.

“You are,” you agreed, your voice soft and dreamy. “You’re my favourite person, you know that?”

Max froze for a moment, sure his heart skipped a beat, before he shook his head and closed your door.

The drive home was quiet, save for your occasional hums and mumbled comments about the pretty city lights. Max glanced at you every so often, his hand gripping your thigh, your eyes fluttering shut for brief moments.

When he finally pulled into his apartment’s parking garage you stirred, blinking sleepily. Inside you clung to him like a lifeline, your arms looped around his neck as he guided you to the bathroom.

“You’re so tall,” you murmured, your head resting against his chest. “Like a tree. A strong, handsome tree.”

Max chuckled despite himself, shaking his head as he set you down on the bathroom counter. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you like me anyway,” you said, your grin lazy and smug.

He didn’t respond, instead reaching for a makeup remover wipe from the cabinet. You watched him curiously as he carefully cupped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Taking your makeup off,” he said simply.

You stared at him, your expression unreadable, as he carefully wiped at your face. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he avoided your eyes, focusing instead on the task at hand.

"You take such good care of me." You whispered, reaching up to touch his hand. “You don’t have to, you know?”

“I know,” he said with a slight frown, his eyes finally meeting yours. “But I want to. You deserve it.”

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Max carried you to the bedroom, letting you climb him like a koala as you giggled into his shoulder. He set you down gently, pulling the covers over you before crouching beside the bed. You blinked at him sleepily, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“You’re like a knight,” you mumbled, your voice thick with drowsiness. “My very own knight in shining armour.”

Max chuckled, shaking his head. “A very tired knight,” he replied, brushing a stray hair from your face. “But you’re going to hate me in the morning if I let you go to sleep without water and something for your hangover.”

“I don’t hate you,” you slurred, blinking up at him with glassy eyes. “I could never hate you.”

His chest tightened at the sincerity in your tone, “Stay awake for just a few more minutes okay? I’ll be right back.”

You made a soft noise of protest as he stood, but you didn’t try to stop him. Max moved quietly through the apartment, grabbing a glass from the kitchen and filling it with cold water. From the bathroom he grabbed a pack of paracetamol, the domesticity of the routine bringing a faint smile to his lips.

When he returned you were still half-propped against the pillows, your eyes fluttering open at the sound of his footsteps.

“Here,” Max said, sitting on the edge of the bed. He handed you the glass and pressed two pills into your palm. “Take these and drink some water. Trust me, you’ll thank me in the morning.”

You squinted at the pills like they’d personally offended you. “Do I have to?”

“Yes,” Max replied firmly, his lips quirking upward. “No arguments.”

“Bossy,” you muttered, but you popped the pills into your mouth and swallowed them with some water. “Happy now?”

“Very.”

You handed the glass back to him, and he set it on the nightstand before leaning forward to pull the blankets higher around you.

“I’m so lucky you’re my Maxie,” you sighed.

“Sleep,” he said softly, stroking your cheek.

“Stay,” you murmured, your eyes already half-closed.

Max hesitated, his heart twisting with adoration, before nodding. “I’ll be right here.”

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Incubus

NSFW Art the Clown x F!Reader

Prompt: Reader is out with one of her friends when she runs into an interesting looking clown. Later that night, he seems to visit her in a dream. (Kinda going off the idea that Art is a supernatural being who can appear in people's dreams at will).

CW: Art being a freak, use of sex toys, oral f!receiving, multiple orgasms, choking, creampie

a/n: to quote Cassie from Euphoria "AND YOU CAN ALL JUDGE ME IF YOU WANT BUT I DO NOT CARE! I HAVE NEVER EVER BEEN HAPPIER" really going back to my sexy-clown-fucker roots with this one gang

~~~

Halloween Night.

You and your friends had been planning to go out like you had since you were teenagers. Getting dressed up in your sluttiest best Halloween costumes, going to your favorite spot in town to eat, then hitting up some parties.

Your group took up a large table at the same old diner you always met at. Friends pregaming with flasks and shot bottles they snuck in. Some more blitzed than others. As you got older, the desire for partying was beginning to leave your body. Wanting to be completely black out drunk in public becoming more embarrassing than exhilarating.

So when your best friend decided she wanted to mess with one of your fellow patrons, a lump formed in your stomach.

A tall man dressed in a half white and half black clown costume sat at one of the tables alone. Giant shoes adorned his feet, the tip of his long nose had a black dot on it, and a bald cap with a tiny hat rested upon his head. He had been staring at your group since he arrived. Most of your friends too out of it to notice.

Your friend walked over, leaning over the table he sat at. Pushing her cleavage directly in his face as she spoke to him. “Nice costume,” she batted her lashes at him. His expressionless face stared at her. A semi aggravated frown on his face. Everyone at your table began giggling as you watched in horror. She took a seat directly in his lap, wrapping one of her arms around him. She tugged at the hat on his head, smacking it down with a pop. “Awe, look how cute. But dontcha think it would look better one me,” she grabbed the hat off his head. Pulling the string and placing it down on her own.

Embarrassment ate away at your insides. All your friends stared and snickered at the situation. The man seemingly unfazed. She flicked at his nose with her finger. You could not take it any longer.

“Oh my God,” you grabbed her by the arm and yanked her away from him, “I am so sorry. If I had known she was going to do that I would’ve stopped her sooner.” You ripped the tiny hat off her head. “Here’s that. Once again I’m so sorry—“

“Why do you keep apologizing to this freak?!”

You shot a look at her, brows pushed together in frustration. Pulling her outside of the restaurant. She fought for you to let go of her. Stumbling in her drunken state.

“What the fuck is wrong with you! Why are you acting like this?” You were hurt by your friend’s actions.

“Why do you even give a shit, Y/N? That’s just some random skeezeball in a restaurant. I could fuck him and we’d never have to see him again.”

“Because you’re embarrassing me!” You shouted, folding your arms over your chest. Taking a deep breath and blinking away the feeling you were harboring.

She stood in front of you with a look of disgust on her face. Her hand planted firmly on her hip. A laugh erupting from her. Wrapping her hand around your wrist and pulling you back inside. Presenting you in front of the table of all your friends. “Go ahead if that’s really how you feel, Y/N,” she cocked her head to the side.

“I— I, uh—“

“Y/N said she’s embarrassed by us. Guess we huwt hew widdle feewings!” Your friend pushed out her bottom lip and mocked you. The entire table laughed at you. All your so called friends calling you names like “Debby Downer” or “Sour Puss” or “Buzz Kill.”

You stood frozen in shock. Unable to believe all your friends you had known so long were treating you this way. All of them a little drunk, but not drunk enough for them to not know what they were doing.

“Come on, everybody. Since we’re so embarrassing to be around. You can stay here,” your friend patted you on the head as she and everyone else threw some cash on the table to cover their bills. You were in disbelief. Feeling abandoned and hurt. Ashamed.

You looked over at the Clown Man who you were defending previously. His gaze fixated on you, expression completely emotionless. Sharp eyes cutting into you. Walking over to him one last time as you began to leave, “I really am sorry she did that. I hope your night goes better than mine.” You gave him a closed mouth smile as you walked out of the restaurant. Lifeless eyes watching you exit.

You held yourself as you walked home. Cold breeze hitting your revealed skin, sending chill bumps down your body. You tugged at the short skirt you wore when you saw a group of guys staring at you. Suddenly uncomfortable in your costume. You arrived home and began getting ready for the night ahead. You did love passing out candy. Something you really had not got to do in a long time. You loved seeing all the kids dressed up, excited for their sugar filled treats.

Time passed and the knocks on your door were scarce. Disappointed in the lack of trick-or-treaters. Feeling like you had lost all love for this holiday. One that was your favorite. Deciding to pass on dinner and just bake some cookies instead.

You sat on your couch mindlessly watching TV. The lack of trick-or-treaters had you drifting in and out of sleep. Finally dozing off…

You were in a dark room. Only lit by candlelight. A musky smell filled the air. You looked down to see yourself completely nude. Wrists and ankles tied to the frame of the large bed you laid on. Confusion ran through you.

Footsteps filled the room. Straining your neck to look down the dark hallway through the open door. Complete silence coming from the darkness other than the loud clap of shoes. The Clown from the restaurant earlier walked into the dim light. Facial expression flat, eyes piercing down at you. Heat dripped down your body knowing he was seeing you completely nude and on display. Approaching the edge of the bed, his head falling to the side as he stared at your bare pussy. A wicked grin crept upon his face.

His hand dug deep down into the bag he carried. The sound of all different textures of things tussled against each other as he went shoulder deep looking for something. An excited look washed over his face as his hand gripped around what he had been looking for. Pulling a deep red, microphone shaped vibrator from the bag. Your entire body flushed.

He crawled on the edge of the bed between your spread legs. Clicking the vibrator to the setting he thought you would enjoy most before teasing around your pussy with it. You moaned at the sudden sensation. Your thighs began trembling as he edged closer and closer to your throbbing nub. When the toy finally found its place on your sweet spot you called out to him, your hips arching at the feeling. Making circular motions with the vibrator, pulling every noise from you he could. Watching as your chest heaved with each shaky breath.

The waves of your first orgasm washed over you like a tsunami. Every inch of you quaking as pure ecstasy pumped through your veins. The Clown smiled at you from the position he was in. A prominent tent pitched through his satin suit. You bit your lip watching him palm himself through the fabric. Mouth beginning to water as the spot of his suit grew darker with his pre-cum. You rolled your hips at him, encouraging him to fuck you.

Dark eyes shot up to look into yours. Hand never leaving his erect member. Your eyes pleaded with him, a small quiet “please” falling from your quivering lips.

His hand clawed at the fabric around his cock, ripping open a hole big enough for him to pull himself out. Eyes unable to look away from how his gloved hand wrapped around his member. Tugging at his erection, his head falling back ever slightly as he savored the feeling of his hand. Almost like he was putting on a show for you.

His body weighed down the bed as he positioned himself to be directly in front of your aching core. Head of his cock prodding at your entry. Tremors of anticipation quaked through you. His lips were barely parted as he looked down at your face. Hooded eyes enjoying the view of you. He rubbed the tip against your folds, collecting all the remnants of you on himself. Ready to delve in.

… A loud knock at the door pulled you awake. You had been dozed off for a few hours now. It was almost too late at night for kids to be out. You sat up, grabbing the bowl of candy off the table in front of you. A second more aggressive knock. “On my way!” You called out as you walked to the front door.

Opening the door to a familiar costumed man. The Clown your friend had been rude to earlier. Little old to be trick-or-treating, but you did not care. “Oh— Hey! It’s you,” flashes of the dream you had been having about him ran through your mind. Heat rising to your cheeks. You swallowed heavy. A toothy grin painted his face as he waved excitedly at you. Holding up a black garbage bag asking for candy from your bowl. You smiled grabbing a large handful of candy and putting it in the bag for him. His eyebrows rose as his mouth morphed into a perfect ‘O’ shape. His hand went up to his lips blowing a silent kiss at you. You caught it with your hand and placed it on your cheek with a giggle.

“There plenty more where that came from. You’re probably my last trick-or-treater for the night. I’ve got all this candy left,” you shook the bowl tossing the candy around in it. The Clown stood before you not saying anything. Eyes staring at you with a wicked grin on his face.

The loud sound of your fire alarm going off made you jump right out of your skin. You looked over your shoulder then back at the man in front of you. His eyebrows furrowed with concern. “Oh— Oh, Crap! I forgot about the cookies I put in the oven!” You rushed back into your house leaving the door wide open. Running into your kitchen and grabbing the oven mitts you had left on the counter, pulling the charred cookies out and throwing the pan into the sink, running cold water over it. Smoke engulfed your kitchen. You opened the window over the sink, fanning the thick fumes out of the window with your oven mitt. Coughing as you accidentally inhaled some of the tar.

You leaned over the counter, hearing the squeak of shoes approaching you identical to what you had heard in your dream. You looked up to see the Clown examining your house. Waving his hand in front of his face as he scrunched up his nose at the smell. You sighed, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even get to introduce myself to you yet. I’m Y/N.” He waved at you acknowledging the introduction.

“Don’t say much do you?”

He shook his head aggressively.

“Hmm. Then how am I going to learn your name?”

He gleamed excitedly. Coming over and grabbing you by the wrist. Pulling you to your fridge where you had countless letters, newspaper clippings, and coupons pinned. He pointed to a picture about the local go-cart racing tournament that happened a few weeks back.

“Cart?”

He made an ‘X’ with his hands, shaking his head in disagreement. He reemphasized the ‘X’ before holding up one finger.

“Okay, minus one letter.”

He nodded with a bright smile.

“Car?”

He folded his arms over his chest, a look of disappointment on his face. His head falling to the side with a look that said “really?”

“Okay. Okay. Art?”

He jumped up and down clapping his hands with joy. Nodding his head rapidly. Clearly thrilled that you were so good at guessing.

“Art! I like that name,” you smiled suddenly realizing that his grip around your wrist stayed. Blushing at how close your bodies were to each other. Remembering your fantasy you were having about it pulling heat to your face.

“Well, since you’re already in here might as well make yourself comfortable. If you wanna sit in the living room I can bring you a glass of water or something,” you smiled. His wide eyes stared at you, smile never leaving his face. He slowly gave you a thumbs up before spinning on his heel and going into your living room.

“Can I tell you something crazy?” You smiled as you sat the glass down in front of him. He nodded. “I— you were just in my dream.” His mouth morphed into an ‘O’ shape, eyebrows raised in intrigue. “I dozed off after I got ditched at the diner. And we were— uh— well, you were. I was—“ Embarrassment washed over you. Realizing you were about to admit to having a sex dream about a complete stranger.

He made an okay gesture with one hand, sticking his opposite pointer finger into the o. You blushed at his insinuation. You nodded coyly. His face fell into a look telling you he thought your thoughts were naughty. Chastising you with his finger. You smiled. He rested his chin on one of his hands propped against his leg, waving for you to continue with the other.

“OH! No, you don’t want to hear the details or anything. It was…” you hid your face from him slightly. Unsure of what to say about the dream. Too awkward to fully admit it.

Art crawled off the couch, resting his chin on your bare knees like a begging puppy. A large frown decorating his face as he fluttered his eyes at you. Wide eyes stared down at him in your lap. Your nerves were set on fire. The source being where his chin touched your bare skin. You swallowed back hard.

He pressed his lips into the skin of your exposed thigh. Biting the soft flesh, leaving grease paint anywhere his lips touched. You felt your body quiver as his teeth dug into you. Bites turned into long licks. Saliva painted your exposed skin. “Art~” you moaned loving the feeling of him on your skin. A wicked grin crept on his face.

Partially gloved hands pried your legs open. Sadistic eyes stared at your clothed core. Noting how you had already soaked through your panties. Licking his way up your skin before planting a sloppy kiss on your core. You slid down the couch exposing yourself better to him. His long tongue lapped over your soaked entry, sucking on the fabric. Your hands gripped his head, eyes rolling back as he worked on you.

He suddenly stood up. You fluttered your eyes up at him. He walked over to his previous seat on the couch. Digging through the black trash bag he carried with him. Making a surprised face when his hand found what it was looking for.

Everything was so familiar...

Pulling something out and hiding it behind his back. Gesturing for you to join him. Patting his lap as you got closer to him. Hesitantly you straddled him. He leaned back into the couch, hooded eyes scanning your entire body. A mischievous grin painted his dirty teeth. He grabbed at your panties, ripping them clean off. Holding them up to his nose and taking a deep inhale, eyes rolling back into his head. Over exaggerating his exhale and putting your ripped garment down into his trash bag. The cool air against your now exposed core sent chills across your entire body.

There was a sudden hum coming from behind Art. He pretending to look around as if he could not find the source of the sound. You blushed at the realization of the noise. Revealing the same deep red want from your dream. You gasped.

"That's the same one from my-"

He cut you off by pressing the toy against your throbbing clit. You moaned loudly, throwing your head back. You rolled your hips against the vibrating silicone. Fire igniting deep inside you. Lost in the feeling.

Art watched how you played with yourself on the toy. His cock begging for the same attention the vibrator was getting. He smacked the side of your thigh to get your attention. Pulling you from your horny, dumb state. Your eyes meeting his gaze. His brows furrowed together as he pointed down to his erect cock. You continued your motions as you reached around to unzip his clown suit. Sliding the satin off his shoulders. His pale, slender body revealing itself to you. Propping yourself up so he could shimmy the material around his ankles. Noticing how he wore no underwear under the suit. You smiled as you stared at his cock.

Your first orgasm was rapidly approaching with the pace of the toy pressed into you. Art's gloved hands guided you down onto his member. Throwing his head back as you sunk down. The way your walls sucked him right in. Almost like your body was begging to be fucked. He blinked hard, his jaw agape. Hands encouraging you to bounce up and down. From the first few hops your orgasm took over you. Moaning his name and shaking. Walls gripping his member inside you. Art licked his teeth, mocking your orgasm face.

You expected him to move the wand so that he could fuck you to his own high. However, he pressed it firmer into your aching nub. Your hips rutted forward. Shocked expression taking over your face as you panted above him. Sweat decorating your skin.

"I-I can't do an-another one," you pleaded with the Clown. Your senses in overdrive as your pussy still spasmed around him occasionally. He pouted, mocking your pleas. Nodding his head to tell you, you would be having another one. Shaking entirely as he began a relentless pace inside you. Snapping his hips flush against your ass with each aggressive thrust. You cried out with each crack of skin. Overwhelmed with how good he felt inside you.

Fingers dinging into his bare shoulders. Gripping him tight enough to break the skin. His own fingers held your hips with a bruising force as he continued bouncing you on him. Feeling yourself approach another orgasm. Air hitching in your throat feeling your skin burn with pleasure.

Art reached one of his hands up and wrapped it around your throat. Squeezing tighter than anyone had ever before. Having you seeing stars, feeling like you could faint at any moment. Truly taking your breath away from you.

HONK!

A silver horn was shoved in your face as he released your throat. Bringing you back to the situation. Also causing you to grip his member again. He mimed a laugh when your body jumped at the sudden noise.

His head fell back against the head of the couch as he savored the feeling of you wrapped around him. Knowing his end was approaching. Sloppily thrusting up into you, circling your clit with the want. Willing you to cum at the same time. You watched as his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. Wishing you could lean forward and bite at his flesh. Decorate his skin with your markings. But you were far too close to your second high to change positions now.

Screaming out to him as you came far harder than the first time. You felt Art shoot up into you, spilling his hot seed into you. Continuing to thrust up into you as he rode out both your highs. Watching how he leaked out of you and pooled around his base. Smiling for a moment before his face fell flat. He helped you off his lap, sitting you beside him. Standing and attempting to reach his zipper on the back.

You stood and helped him. Making sure to pull the zipper away from his skin to prevent any accidents. Art turned and tipped his hat to you. You blushed as you stood in front of the man who just rocked your world.

You watched as he grabbed his black bag and threw it over his shoulder. Heading towards the door. Turning to blow a kiss at you one last time.

Catching it and placing it on your lips. Blowing one right back at him. He pretending to rub the blush off his cheeks.

And just as quick as he had entered he exited your home. You waved goodbye. Choosing not to question the stranger you had let into your home for a quick fuck.

Watching as he disappeared into the night.

~

[END]

// Thank you for reading! This is my first time writing for Art. You really gotta get creative when you can't use dialogue lol. I hope you enjoyed this story! I plan on writing more for him, so if you have any requests please send them my way! Or if you want to be tagged in anything let me know! //

{tags}

@hoe-for-daddywise | @cup1d-ends-here | @xenoanamorph | @getmeoutofhell |

[vifilms]

THEY CALL ME HOMEWRECKER

pairing. established!cait x reader ft. older!vi

content warning. eighteen+, some freaky toxic shit, caitlyn lowkey a bad girlfriend, reader a freak, and violet’s just there for a good time, ooc!vi mostly, strap!sex, threesome, jealousy, cheating, some good ‘ole drama, public!sex, slight voyeurism if you squint.

#thank u to my boo @sinstear for helping me facilitate this madness and giving me even more ideas for it. and for @shouyuus for always supporting my gay panicking. still crying about it. as always, eighteen+.

since the two of you were struggling financially, you’ve always stuck by caitlyn’s side. throughout all of her business endeavors, one finally stuck, the restaurant on avenue street, and god is it ever so booming. weeks of hectic hours turn into months of hardly seeing her due to her schedule always being on the flipside of hers.

all of it was so excruciating.

over the past few months, the cracks of your relationship fall over like a tsunami waves, crashing repeatedly into the shore. you try to talk about it with her — the two days out of the week when you actually see her — but she’s always too tired.

too this.

too that.

nothing you do is ever enough. it doesn’t matter if you set the mood just right, candles light with rose petals on the bed, buying a new lingerie set to attempt to peak your girlfriend’s interest.

“baby, it’s been months since we’ve had sex? do you just not want me anymore? caitlyn reassure you she does but makes no move to give you the relief you’re so desperately seeking. deadly kisses turn stale in your mouth, the bitterness of her stagnant need tastes like the dark chocolate on your tongue.

“just—“ caitlyn grunts as she gently shoves you off as her back turn away from you “not tonight.”

you’re so close to cry, to calling this relationship for what is, a colossal failure. deciding to cool down before offering her the proposition, the one you’ve been thinking about for a while now. no matter what you do, you love cait too much to call it quits. you have to fight for who you love, no matter the cost. this is the only choice you can make…right?

droplets kiss your skin, an oversized shirt hits your thighs as your feet pad away from the cool tile, the dampness of your hair touches the cotton as she looks at you, exhaustion written all over her gorgeous face.

“what if we opened this up? let someone…in.”

shyly, you mumble. and you expect some lewd response, anger, a finality to the end but you’re met with relief. “i think that’s a great idea, love.”

but caitlyn would live to regret those words. “just one night with someone else.”

the both of you agree.

all of it happened organically, that’s what you were her for. caitlyn was close and made sure not to hover. the stipulation being the two of you had to be attracted to whoever came home with the two of you. it’s when you spot her, checking you out from the other side of the bar.

“hi, cupcake.” her voice is sultry but her rasp velvet smooth.

“o-oh, u-um, hi—” you readjust shirt, the swell of your breasts threatening to spill from the tight top you’re wearing. she’s the hottest woman you’ve ever seen. soft lines on her face to resemble her age, but fuck, she’s so pretty.

powder-blue eyes resembling the sky as she checks you out from head to toe, unable to keep her eyes off of you. she can’t stop looking at you as you squirm underneath her blunt gaze.

“who’s the blue haired woman behind you? girlfriend? she looks like she wants to kill me for getting so close to you.” with a fierce sense of confidence running through her veins, she plays with the pretty silver chain hanging from your neck.

“she is my girlfriend but we have an understanding.” the nerves from your initial impression of her dissipate, as you step closer to her. “we’re on the hunt for someone to fuck our brains out, especially mine it’s been a little too long.”

"how long?"

the curoisty slips out before she can help herself, eyes falling back on your tits again again as you cross your arms over your chest, tongue running over your lips as the tattoo peeking out from her the underside of her neck.

“long enough.”

but caitlyn interjects, slithering her way as she immediately starts caressing the mystery woman’s forearm. it’s difficult to pretend there isn’t a sting in your chest when she so easily touches someone else without a second thought.

it isn’t fair, that’s all you’ve wanted, an ounce of her affection but it seems it just takes a certain kind of woman to get her going. on that doesn’t love her the way you do, one that’s hotter, sexier, and definitely has more experience than you.

caitlyn is all over her, all night. vi, as you’ve come to learn, is much older than you and cait, more successful than you could ever dream of, and she damn sure knows how to sweet talk. you can’t help but feel a little left out as you sip on your martini, courtesy of vi.

excusing yourself to freshen up, not that you believe either of them would notice, you wash your hands, splash some water on your cold face to calm yourself. it’s crystal clear, she always wanted to have sex, just never with you.

there she stands, proud and tall, with hope in her eyes like she’s found the missing piece of her puzzle. “so, she’s perfect, right? i mean we really hit it off. the both of us, right?”

you nod, “yeah, sounds perfect, cait.” but she’s too fucking horny too nice the clip to her name or the bitterness in your tone. she’ll have her fill and you’ll be stuck on the sidelines, again. she’ll do anything but acknowledge this relationship for the farce it is.

you should have known, all the signs right in front of you to see, and now it all it took a pink-haired goddess to show you the light. she’ll get her pussy wet for anyone who isn’t you.

“great! i’ll tell her. i’m so glad we decided to do this, love.”

love.

the irony of her burning affection nearly causes you to throw up.

still, you’re incessantly scrubbing at your hands, the skin feels raw, the top of your fingers wrinkling like prunes. the last thing you want to do is meet them out there. the gorgeously, very-fuckable stranger who your girlfriend can’t get enough of. you should have just done the right thing, put the relationship to bed along with the rest of your dignity. now you’d have to watch who you thought was the love of your life, get off right in front of you.

then she’s here. vi. with her beautiful face, her cologne that smells of vanilla and mahogany, her perfectly fit body, making you feel more insecure than you’ve ever been.

“you alright, princess? if you have second thoughts just say the word…”

“nope.”

with a violent urgency, you keep scrubbing the soap into your absolutely clean hands, bending over the counter slightly to rinse them when you feel her behind you, gripping at your hips. she reaches over to shut the water off, handing you a few paper towels to dry your hands.

what the fuck is she playing at? why isn’t she sucking caitlyn’s face off?

“i have something else in mind—” vi leans over as her hot breath kisses your ear, “and it has to do with this pretty, little skirt on the floor.”

“oh, vi, we should really go and meet caitlyn, she—” but you can’t talk, not when she starts stroking the silky skin of your thigh, pushing the hem of your skirt up just a hair.

“you sure about that?” vi crawls her playful hand underneath the hem, playing with the panties covering your cunt, teasing your slit through the delicate lace. “i had my eyes set on something i want to try first.”

“o-oh…kay, well, it’s really not the best idea. please, can we—"

“so you really want to princess? something tells me, you’re dying to have this pussy eaten, fucked….stretched. i have a perfect hot pink cock for you to get fucked with, a mouth to please you, and a good set of fingers for you to bounce on.”

before you realize what’s she’s doing, her heavenly hands dip inside your panties, splitting your folds like the red sea; as god intended. she groans in your ear when she not only feels, but hears how soaked you’ve become, hot breath setting your body aflame.

“how does that sound, princess? want me to take care of you?” you grind against her pelvis, back arching into her as she slips a lone finger inside you. you moan so high, it nearly sounds like a scream.

“mmm, shit, ahhh, that’s—”

becoming very aware of the public setting, anyone could walk in the door at any given moment, you try to refute but you’re struggling to find the words, as she curls her finger inside you, establishing a steady pace.

“what? don’t think of caitlyn now. she certainly didn’t care before, did she? let me guess…she left you and your vibrator to your own device, pressing on that pretty clit of yours, hoping she’d jump in but she couldn’t.

“she couldn’t do what needs to be done—” vi bites and sucks at your neck, you crane your body towards her in submission, giving the older woman all the access she needs to tear you apart. “but i can give you whatever you fucking want, princess.”

it doesn’t take anything else before you’re attacking the older woman with your lips, her tongue invades your mouth as she surges for dominance, gripping your plump cheeks through the small amount of fabric covering them.

immediately intertwining your finger through her hair as you tug on her roots, as your skirt rides up against almost rising completely as vi pushes you through the first open stall she sees. not giving one flying fuck who hears her.

“needed you first, you know that? couldn’t help myself as soon as i saw you. god, just you wait until tonight.”

you shake your head as she pushes the your skirt to your hip bones, ripping your panties off with one single rip!

“tonight?”

“yes, pretty girl, tonight. m’gonna make her watch while i fuck you on my cock.”

pressing her knee with force in-between your legs, an animalistic moan tumbles out before you could even stop yourself.

“c’mon, ride my thigh, sweet girl. that’s what you want, hm?”

vi’s strength centers you in like gravity, allowing you to slide further up her trousers, your folds fluttering against the friction, allowing the crease of her perfectly-ironed slacks to push against your soaking pussy.

“god, fuck her for not wanting to fuck you. i’ll fuck you all night if you let me.” vi grunts as she watches your body writhe, tits bouncing as chase your high.

“fuuuckkkkk,” you hiccup, so close as she pushes a thumb in your mouth, effectively shutting your mouth for a moment as you suck on the digit. swirling your tongue around her finger, pretending she’s fucking you with a strap instead.

“such a good girl for me.” pulling off with a delectable pop, she presses against your clit, blissful patterns being traced on your bundle of nerves and just with a few strokes you’re done for. falling fast and hard.

“vi, vi, oh fuck, baby, viiii—” a drawl of her name as she abuses the bundle of nerves, the ache for her full attention and freely does vi give it.

you fall into her chest, whimpering as her incessant need to play with your clit does nothing to help you calm down — all she does is rile you up.

fuck, caitlyn.

not a day in your life had you thought of being interested in someone so much older than you, but god you’d never come apart like that. not so quickly and not ever quite as hard. she knew what you liked without uttering a word.

the swipe of her thumb felt like a stroke of god, as if she was one, giving into your mundane pleasure, helping you close in on what seemed like an impossible finish.

this wasn’t part of the deal. shit, you’re so fucked.

“turn around.” you obey.

a pathetic servant willing to get it’s pay.

she slaps your ass once more, a whimper tumbles and vi eats up every second of it.

“how bad do you want my cock, baby?”

“so bad, please.”

“good. you’ll show me…in front of her.”

—

“just like that princess, fuck, you’re so goddamn pretty.”

violet’s hands steady your hips as you ride cait’s cock, the strap stretching you out to the heavens, vi guides you in perfect rhythm. you know you should feel bad, but you can’t stop staring at vi, her perfect eyes gleaming as you moan out her name.

not cait, vi.

“love—” caitlyn’s voice is drown outed when vi is looking at you the way she’s does, the way you’ve been begging your girlfriend too but she only does when there’s someone else giving you what you’ve been desperately craving.

“how does it feel, cupcake?” vi whispers in your ear, “does it feel good when you fuck yourself on her cock?”

without warning, vi slaps your ass as you jolt forward, the silicone cock slipping deeper within you, kissing your cervix as vi keeps her hand on your lower back, guiding your movements.

“f-feels really good, vi.”

vi kisses down your neck, biting at the skin before she presses her scarred lip against your ear.

“i know it does, princess. been wanting this for months, huh? don’t worry about a thing. i’ll take care of you.”

vi smirks as she sees caitlyn stirring with fury, bold pair of blues ignite under the fire of someone else seeing what is so rightfully hers. she hates this, knowing someone else is talking you through it, touching your skin, soft lips kissing the ample skin of your neck.

truthfully, she’s never been a jealous person. as the rises at the break of dawn and sets in the cool evening, caitlyn truly believed she’s the one for you — no one else could dare compete.

it’s caitlyn and you.

but suddenly it doesn’t feel like the two of you against the world.

it’s vi and you, the anxiety bubbling in her stomach feels catastrophic, so she fucks into you, making you squirm with need. but still, you’re so entangled in vi, you don’t even notice her.

the night hadn’t started the way caitlyn planned — or wanted — but she lapped at your cunt as vi instructed her to do so. she’d been vying for an ounce of her attention. truthfully, she’d settle for either one of you, but the two seem to enthralled with one another to even notice her existence.

but fuck, you’re her girlfriend. only hers.

but when you’re close, you ask vi for permission to come. it’s vi’s whose name you scream out when you start falling apart on caitlyn’s cock. it’s vi rubbing your clit, whispering sweet nothing in your ear as you see stars, it’s vi who pulls you into her lap as you cling onto her for dear life, as if caitlyn’s touch feels poisonous.

nothing makes sense.

when caitlyn thinks for a moment, she’ll get an ounce of attention, vi handcuffs her to the chair across the bed.

“what are you doing?” dark blue eyebrows furrow as her, eye squinting harshly.

“you’ll get your turn, be patient.” vi scolds, but she has no intention on following through on her promise. this is to make a mockery her, to show her exactly what’s she been missing.

in the full nude, she walks over to the night stand, grabbing the harness, and makes sure everything is just right for you — the hot pink dildo protrudes, just as she promised. the pink bush she’s sporting matches deliciously as her happy trail follows up her lower abdomen.

caitlyn wants to curse at the wind when you immediately fall in obedience, commands fly off vi’s tongue and you adhere to her wishes. the first has your mouth wrapping around her pink cock, she gently thrusts, lubricating the plastic with your tongue. your hands twisting vi’s pierced nipples, playing with the silver barbell, taking pride and joy when her breath hitches.

“lay on your back for me, yeah?” vi doesn’t waste another beat.

with reckless intent, she slides in, every inch of her saturated in your warmth. you waste no time, fingers woven through her hair like a thread through embroidery. her pink hair becomes nothing more than a leash for you tug on, each powerful thrust to much, too soon — but you also are too terrified to let go.

"take it, princess. just like that—" violet pushes deep, clinging to her broad back, scratches made in tandem when she delivers a brutal pace. "tell her how much you love my cock."

there she sits, jaw slack, mouth open so wide she could catch flies.

vi can't tell if you she's crying and part of her almost feels bed until desperate pleas of her name fall from sanctioned lips. violet smirks as she looks back at caitlyn, waiting for the inevitable moment of her crumble.

there's only so much one girl could take and violet knew she had to be hitting her limit. soft please of, babygirl, falls on ears that only hears vi's instruction. deviously, violet smirks as she watches caitlyn realizes exactly what as going on.

but it's too late.

you're already far out her grip as your grip onto violet for dear life as you come apart on her cock, moaning louder than caitlyn's ever heard.

you're never loud, even when the two of you did have sex, it's always been quiet.

sweet. soft.

nothing about this is tender as your squirt all over her bed sheet, effectively sending violet over the edge from watching you come, fucking you harder as you moan into her neck, sharp teeth sinking into her collarbones.

to sink the final dagger in her heart, you initate violet's lips locking in yours, a smashing of desire reaches it's fateful end. caitlyn watches as you lose yourself in someone else, someone older, wiser — her stomach churns as she desperately tries to break free of the restraints.

she's been made a fool of, a mere mockery just for wanting to try something you suggested. but the jealousy falls around her, she's not strong enough to watch you enjoy getting your brains fucked by someone who has everything.

for the first time in her life, she feels you slipping through her fingers.

"would you stop touching her? this is over. we're done with you, vi. she's my girlfriend, get off her." bitterly, caitlyn sneers.

"oh, she does?"

with a roll of her strong hips, vi thrusts deep into your pussy, you clench around her, arching your back as you cry out for your lover's touch.

"well, i hate to be the barrier of bad news, but she's not done which means neither am i. so, enjoy the show, cait. you sure have paid a pretty penny for it."

[dcxdpdabbles]

Holiday request: child support

John is in a meeting with the Justice League when Clockwork comes knocking. It's a regular update on security and safety procedures, the kind of boring stuff John would have customarily skipped out on, except that this meeting also covers how to provide younger teams support.

Teams that his son was a part of. If Danny was ever on a mission, that could have ended in him passing simply because some wanker didn't know how to find him or how to help him in time?

So here was John, half slumped over his chair as Batman droned about procedures and policies. He had barely gotten through Wonder Woman's long lecture on support combat.

He was thinking of grabbing a coffee- John's been working on his drinking after making a promise to try and get sober for his son- so he was replacing the urge for alcohol with coffee. It was one of the hardest things he's ever done.

Thankfully, he knows some spells that help with withdrawals. It's better than the alternative, even if some days are shitter than others.

"Hello, Johnny," Coos, the Ancient being of Time, flouting before him in his human form. John can feel every hero's jaw drop even as he smiles awkwardly at the other parent of his child.

"Clockwork." He greets, eyes taking in the gorgeous features of Time. He nods his head towards the bag, flouting by Clockwork. "Lovely to see you as always. Got a gift for me?"

"Hmm." Clockwork flouts down, landing on his feet and surveying the room. His pure red eyes sparkled in amusement as the awestruck members of the Justice League. Even Batman seemed momently thrown- though if that was because of Clockwork's beauty or the insane amount of power pushing down on all their souls was anyone's guess.

"I've come to spend a weekend with my son. And you, I suppose, if you do not mind housing me." Clockwork says, at last, patting the bag. John feels his mouth go dry. Yes, he slept with Acient before and wouldn't be opposed to another round, but Clockwork wasn't his average ex.

Clockwork held the entire multiverse at the tip of his fingers, suspended on his amusement, and it could all be destroyed with a mere snap from the other. If he found disproved of even the slightest thing about how John was raising Danny, he could kill billions of people, or worse, he could take Danny away.

John feels cold dread grip his heart even as he laughs. "Of course, I can house you. I hope you won't find being in the human world too much hassle."

"Oh no. I have the perfect disguise to blend in with the humans." Clockwork assures, pulling out a pair of fetching glasses and a white cane. He places them on his head and taps his stick on the ground before grinning. John finds himself instantly spotting the same cocky curve to Danny's own grin, and his heart swells.

"Now, where is my boy? It's been years since I last saw him." Clockwork pauses before shrugging his head. "Or it's only been nine months in this realm. Still a long time for my son."

The Ancient snaps his fingers, ripping a portal open to the front of Danny's school. He offers his arm to the blond man, nodding toward Gotham Academy. The soft ring of the dismissal bells rings as students start pouring out of the front door in drones. Classes for the day have just ended.

"Come along, Johnny. Guide me." John shoots the Leauge an apologetic smile, knowing they will understand how important this visit is. He loops his arm through Clockwork, while heaving the man's bag over his other shoulder. The soft tapping of Clockwork's cane on the ground is the portal's only sound before it slams closed.

It cuts off the explosion of noise the Leauge makes, but with all those overlapping voices, John has no idea who said what.

Danny walks out of the school with Damian, Jon, and Colin, laughing and beaming at the younger boys. Clockwork pauses for a few seconds before he beams.

"You're doing a great job, Johnny." The Ancient says just as Danny's gaze locks on them. His face fumbles with ripples of emotion before lighting up in glee. He races towards them with a gutted shout, "Father!"

Clockwork opens his arms just as Danny slams into him. John steps back, but the Ancient grabs the sleeve of his trench coat and drags him into the hug.

"A really great job." The non-human whispers into John's ear. He feels a soft caress against his magic as if Clockwork was brushing the hair out of his face. His heart flutters softly, even as Danny beams at them, and various teenagers panic at his boy's beauty.

Something tells John that having his ex visiting won't be as bad as he initially thought.

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.4

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

Danny was sitting in the back, his backpack obnoxiously taking up the seat next to him, when the door to the lecture hall creaked open near silently.

“What are you in here for?” Danny asked the guy who crept into class. He sympathetically took his backpack off the Seat of Shame and allowed the guy to sit down. Funnily enough, they had the same hair and eye color.

“Gen Ed. Undecided. You?” The guy grunted quietly back.

“Environmental studies. I’m Danny.”

“Tim.”

With the implicit understanding of two people in a required class they could not give less than two fucks about, Tim and Danny tuned back into the lecture. When the class was assigned group work, Danny looked over to see Tim softly snoring, head slammed down on the table.

“Tim. Wake up, dude.” Danny poked his shoulder.

“Huh? Class over?”

“Nah, we got group work. Discussion board.”

“Oh shit, thanks for waking me up. Wanna team up?”

Danny shrugged. “Sure. We should aim to post it in the middle so the professor doesn’t read our answers to the class.”

“Yeah, sounds like a good idea. Any idea what we’re talking about?”

“Kind of?”

“Good enough for me.”

——

Tim Drake kept seeing Danny Fenton around on campus.

“Danny! Dude, what are you doing?”

Danny turned, gloved hands full of crumpled trash. “Picking up after the student population, apparently.”

“Didn’t think environmental studies was that serious.”

“Global warming is very serious, you jerk,” Danny smirked at him, crossing the grass to put the trash into the trash can. “Reduce, reuse, oil shouldn’t be spilled in water and all that.”

“Basic stuff,” Tim grinned. Nice, he basically had a friend past Bernard now!

They were friends, right?

“And yet humanity fails to comprehend it. Incredible. Incredibly stupid that is.”

“They get it. Major corporations just don’t care.”

Danny sighed. “True that. You on your way to your next class?” He took off his biodegradable gloves off (nitrile and nylon, baby!) and chucked them into the trash.

“I’ve got free time, actually. Prof cancelled for his daughter’s surgery.”

“Oh, shit, that’s rough! You wanna go downtown and join the strike?”

“A strike? What for?” Even as he asked, Tim hiked his bag higher onto his shoulder, ready to go. They fell into step as the two left campus.

“Apparently, Quillan Pharma was doing some shady shit at their manufacturing plants. I think it’s like killing kids, and pouring toxins into the ground.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah. Oh! Poison Ivy’s gonna be there!”

Tim blinked. He casted a sideways look at Danny. Sure he’s been here long enough to know… but it couldn’t hurt to check. “You know she’s an eco-terrorist, right?”

“Okay, but like… people suck sometimes. And all she’s asking for is like don’t kill the planet. And she doesn’t do that whole mind control thing too much anymore! The Sirens are so cool. Plus, one of my best friends at home might actually kill me if I don’t try to get her autograph. Poison Ivy is like, Sam’s personal hero.”

Tim snickered. “Yeah, okay. Mind if one of my friends join? His name’s Bernard.”

“The more the merrier,” Danny nodded. “Ooo! Hot chocolate. Want some?”

Danny bought three drinks as Tim trailed behind, texting Bernard.

“He said yes.”

“Cool! We should meet up somewhere before the drinks get cold.”

Well, Danny got the autograph. Tim got a new friend, and Bernard got a drink from his crush.

——

“Oh, you’re the glowing dude that Batman always talks about!”

Danny blinked, eyes scanning the wing-like cape and the yellow emblem on the hero’s suit. Danny was indeed glowing, stars and nebulas freckling across neon green skin, and glowing hair the color of a white dwarf star, tinged with the blue from his ice core.

“I… have absolutely no idea who you are,” Danny lied, like a liar. He’s found a surprising niche of entertainment in messing with the local vigilantes and he’ll be damned if he missed this opportunity.

He heard a snicker from the comm lines as Red Robin visibly brushes it off.

“I’m Red Robin. Why are you picking up trash?”

“Picking up after you humans, apparently.”

The both of them blink, feeling a weird sense of déjà vu. A moment of awkward silence passed before they both shook it off.

“Are you here to help? No offense, but the track record for you people is terrible.” Danny strode over and grabbed a bag. He opened it, and shook it at Red Robin’s face. “See? Batarangs, these odd bird looking ones, the R’s. Seriously, pick up after yourselves!”

“Oh, woah, can we have these back?”

Danny yanked the bag back before Red Robin could get close. “Pay me. These were incredibly tedious to pick up. Especially the batarangs. I mean, I even found a whole bunch of old rusted ones in the middle of the bay. What did you do, dump an entire bag in there from the air?”

Red Robin sighed and took out a wad of cash, with tracking fluid all over it. Danny grimaced, smelling the odd scent on the money. “That’s not real cash. It smells off. Are you trying to give me counterfeits because you’re broke?”

Red Robin gaped, oddly offended. “No! They’re real!”

“Doesn’t smell like it. It’s stinkier than the trash. Go get the one with the money, the litterer. Tell him I’ll be back the next full moon. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” Danny grumbled, disappearing on the spot to watch Red Robin flounder with the stack of cash and the piles of dead bodies on the shore.

“What the fuck even is my life these days?” Red Robin wondered out loud, stuffing the cash back into his pocket. He looked over the plastic wrapped bodies and slumped, sighing.

Oddly enough, Danny felt a sense of sympathy. Well, he’s not getting paid for sympathy. He’s not getting paid at all tonight, actually. Danny flew off, plunging once more into the depths of the significantly cleaner waters, and used his ice to scoop out oil stains.

Danny glanced around and sighed. He had a lot of work to do.

——

“So you’re saying he’s like a werewolf mermaid fae child immortal god thing, right?”

Bruce grunted.

“B, what the hell are you smoking these days? You know drugs are bad, right? Do we need Superman to give you that PSA?” Jason snickered.

Tim, massaging his arms from having to haul an ungodly amount of dead bodies, grunted. He’s so similar to Bruce that it gave the people currently in the cave hives.

“He said full moon. I don’t think we can track him with regular stuff. The bugs kept shorting out.”

“Oh boy,” Dick sighed. “Don’t fall off the spiral cliff, Tim. You’ve got midterms to think about so no stalking the guy.”

“Yet,” Tim shot back, changing out of his suit.

Bruce grunted, setting aside a huge stack of cash.

[street-smarts00]

Clingy

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (BAU!reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WC: 3.7k

Summary: You tended to be very expressive with your friends when showing your affection. Whether it showed in pet names or physical touch. Only thing is, Spencer thinks he’s falling in love with you, and all of your sweet affectionate actions are starting to take a toll on his unrequited heart. At least, he thinks it’s unrequited. 

Tags: there’s a tiny bit of miscommunication but not too much that it will make your head explode like it does mine. Make out but nothing grown/spicy. Friends to lovers. A bit of hurt/comfort

A/N: Not beta read don’t kill me! yoooo spence is so in denial about her feelings in this but lol so real king. This is mostly from his POV but I had to cheat a few times. Hope i can live up to the hype that complimentary colors was. I low key don't like this one as much but had to execute it cause the idea was cute.

You were starting to drive him insane. Criminally insane. You could invade his thoughts at any waking moment of his day and take over his mind. Every affectionate pet name, every soft fleeting touch, hell every time you look at him, he would replay the moment in his mind like a broken record. If he was in a crowded room, his eyes would always fall on you. 

After being with the BAU for a while you became good friends with your coworkers. And with that, came your habit of calling your friends sweet nicknames. Anything from sweetie, to honey, to babes, and the one that broke his heart the most, my love. 

At first he didn’t understand why you were using terms of endearment that were typically used in a romantic relationship, but in a platonic way. At some point he caught on that you were similar to Garcia when it came to expressing your love for friends. Similar to her and the way she has her own sweet silly way of expressing how she cares.

Nevertheless, some small part of his heart still broke when you called him those names. He adored your sweet caring nature and the fact that you cared enough about him to call him terms of endearment. But every time a nickname fell from your lips, he was reminded you only meant it platonically. 

It was his own personal torture to constantly be reminded he would never be your sweetie, your honey … your love. But the nicknames weren’t enough to drive him insane. While it drove him to the brink of insanity, he was able to keep his head somewhat still on his shoulders. 

Not long after the heart warming but crushing nicknames, you showed your true love language. Physical touch. It showed in many forms. It could show when poking JJ in the shoulder and giving Emily a high five. Or nudging Morgan in his side with your elbow. You even managed to get a fist pump from Hotch and Rossi. And of course the welcome and goodbye hugs from Penelope. 

You were a bit hesitant at first to express this love language of yours with Spencer due to his aversion to touch and germs. However, you observed that he would gratefully receive occasional touches. Whether it be a hug, high-five, or even the rare ruffle of his hair -which of course would be from Morgan. So you approached him and asked if he was comfortable with physical contact. 

When it came to you, he was more than comfortable. You could take him in your arms and he would simply melt into a puddle on the floor. Except he didn’t say that and his reply was closer to a mix of stuttering and rambling about how you could never make him uncomfortable and how he just doesn’t like germs. 

Now he’s not saying he regrets his choices. He wouldn’t ever take it back. He enjoys every single lingering touch between the two of you. Actually “enjoys” would be a severe understatement. Every single time you ruffle his hair, lean your head on his shoulder, or even just carefully touch his arm, it was as if a thousand volts of electricity were flowing through him. Like he could light up the city even. You were the best part of his days and the reason breath filled his lungs. You brought a light into his life that made him feel safe and warm. 

He desperately wanted your affection, your attention, your touch, to mean something more than he knew it to be. But sooner or later, touch after touch, he started to go insane. Somewhere along the way he had daydreamed so deep he had lost his mind. 

You had officially driven Spencer Reid insane. 

He was promptly whisked away from his thoughts when he felt the tap of a folder on his shoulder and a light thump on his desk. 

“Hotch wants to know your thoughts on the consultation from Colorado,” you started. 

He blinked back into focus glancing at the papers on his desk. 

“Hey, you alright?” You asked with concern. “You look like your head is in the clouds.”

“I’m fine, just lost in thought,” he answered with a small smile reassuring you.

“Don’t get too lost. Can’t have your genius brain short circuiting on us.” You chuckled as you took a small step closer to him and playfully ruffled his hair. 

“I’ll try not to,” he grinned and pushed his hair back after you messed with it. 

“Well I’ll be back soon, my love. Gotta go bother Penelope,” you joked before making your way out of the bullpen. 

His gaze was lingering on you as you left. His thoughts started to drift to you again as his cheeks turned pink.

“I’ll be back soon, my love,” Morgan mimicked in a higher pitched voice with a grin as he approached Spencer's desk. In response Spencer turned his chair away from Morgan to hide his now red face. 

“When are you two going to start dating? You guys already act like a couple.” 

“We do not act like a couple,” Spencer argued. “She just sometimes calls me pet names, that's normal for her.” 

“You don’t see it do you?” Morgan furrowed his eyebrows and was seconds away from chuckling. “She’s been giving you quite a bit of attention lately. Practically clinging onto you.” 

“I mean I- I don’t think so. She does that with everyone, it's not just me. She just happens to be very affectionate with friends.” He answers as his voice almost cracked. 

Morgan shook his head, “Oh no it’s more than that. Have you ever noticed that she calls you “my love” but she calls us “love”? Or when we’re on a long flight back home and you two are all cuddly on the jet. How she always seeks out your company and finds an excuse to talk to you or about you.” 

Spencer couldn’t speak. He had so many words on the tip of his tongue but his voice wouldn’t make a sound. He sat frozen and mouth slightly agape as his brain started to go into overdrive. 

Morgan's face softened at Spencer's reaction. “It’s different with you kid. Friends don’t act like that.” 

“You and Garcia do.” Spencer countered, this time definitely with a voice crack. Morgan lightly chucked. He was well aware that his and Penelope’s friendship was a bit different than other male/female friendships. 

“Okay you got me there, but you and Y/N aren’t me and Garcia. We may flirt with each other a lot but that’s our thing. You two have this care for each other like nothing I've ever seen.” 

Spencer was left stunned once again and Morgan could practically see the gears in his head turning.

“You may not notice it now, or hell you may not let yourself notice it now, but it’s true.” 

Those words rang in the back of Spencer's mind for days. Of course on a regular basis you would occupy his mind at any given moment. But now it wasn’t just thoughts about you. His mind was over analyzing almost every interaction between you and him, trying to find what Morgan had talked about. Some form of evidence that proved what you felt for him was beyond what he had initially thought. 

He was recounting all the recent times you had approached him out of the members of your team. He recalled all the times you were either hanging out or on the jet and you found yourself tracing patterns on his arm. He was rethinking when you started to use nicknames around him and how it could be different with him than with others. It turned out Morgan might be right, as Spencer realized the numerous times you referred to Garcia or Emily as “love”, but in the rare instance you said “my love” it was only ever directed to him. 

The idea of you liking him back had become an all consuming thought, but he was too terrified to ask you. What if Morgan was wrong? Profilers have been wrong before. He became petrified by the idea of asking you about it and possibly finding out his feelings were unrequited. But most of all, he was scared of losing you. Scared that if he brought it up he would make things awkward and ruin your friendship. He couldn’t lose you, not over something as trivial as his feelings. 

Unfortunately the mental toll this was taking on his mind started to show. Not so obvious that the everyday person would notice, but you weren’t an everyday person. You grew to know him like the back of your hand. So of course you started to notice the little changes in his behavior. His ever so slight flinch when you would initially touch him. His eyes which used to linger on you and catch your eyes from across the room, now focused almost anywhere you weren’t. The way his body froze when you placed a hand on his shoulder. The way his eyes partially widened when you called him anything other than his name. 

He tried to hide his worries from you, but you could tell something was bothering him. 

Something about you.

His overall behavior didn’t reflect that he was avoiding you or distancing himself from you. He still talked to you and acted around you like normal. Instead it felt like he was holding himself back from receiving or truly appreciating your affection the way he used to. 

~

Days had passed and the team was sent on a case. While this case was an emotional rollercoaster for everyone, it had affected you the most. The victims had reminded you of yourself and the unsub and all of his delusional reasoning for his actions had hit very close to home. 

The team caught the unsub and closed the case quite late in the evening. Everyone was exhausted after the grueling past few days and decided to spend the night at the hotel to rest and leave in the morning. You however, still felt an ache in your stomach from all the anxiety felt throughout the day. You couldn’t seem to relax and let that weight off your shoulders. So you went to the one person who could help.  

Spencer was getting ready to go to sleep, peacefully reading a book in bed when he got a knock on his door. He placed his book down and when he opened the door he was greeted by you in pajama pants and a zip up hoodie, clearly also winding down for the night. 

“Hey,” you greeted. 

“Hi, what’s up? Is everything okay?” he asked, a bit concerned as to why you showed up at his hotel so late at night. He opened the door wider signaling you were welcome inside. You entered the room and stuffed your hands in your pockets as he closed the door. 

“I’m okay I just …” you cleared your throat. “I know this case has been a tough one but today’s been really hard for me. I’m still wired and awake, I can’t seem to relax enough to go to sleep,” You abruptly stopped your rambling to catch your breath. 

“This might sound dumb but, I’m in desperate need of a hug right now,” you finally admitted quietly.

He hated seeing you so timid and closed off. How you made yourself smaller than you were, all because you were asking for your basic needs to be met. 

“You don’t have to explain yourself.” 

“Huh?” 

“You don’t have to explain why you need a hug. You can just ask,” he said reassuringly. 

“Oh.” 

“Physical contact has been shown to increase levels of dopamine, serotonin, and even oxytocin; therefore, decreasing levels of stress and anxiety. Some people might even argue that physical touch is a fundamental element of being human and experiencing life.” His other way of trying to validate your feelings was of course rambling a string of facts and information from his fingertips. 

You couldn’t help but smile. God he loved it when you smiled. 

“So is that a yes?” you asked since you never exactly got an answer from your question in the first place. Even though you knew what his answer was. 

The corners of his lips turned into a grin. “Come here,” he says with outstretched arms. 

You practically ran into him at his offer. He wrapped his arms around you as you placed yours around his neck. He wished this moment could last forever. All while at the same time Morgan's previous statements were circling around in his head. 

He tried his best to push them away. He tried to tell himself this was not you acting on any potential feelings for him. This was simply you reaching out to a friend in need. 

He took note of the way you held onto him so tightly, almost as if he could leave at any second. It made his heart ache. 

“You feel tired,” he almost whispered. 

“I am,” you mumbled back, face buried in his neck. 

“Do you wanna lie down?” 

You lightly patted him on the back, “Don’t worry I’ll leave you be and go to sleep soon. I just need a minute 

“I meant … I meant do you want to lie down here?” He stammered. “So you’re not alone. You seem like you need a friend right now.” 

His own heart almost cracks when he says friend. But that’s what you need right now, a friend. 

“I’d like that,” you said with a small smile. 

You separate from him and he leads you to the bed holding your hand. He sits down against the headboard and waits for you to join him. 

You awkwardly sit down on the bed, eyes darting in all directions of where he’s sitting. “I- what should I …” 

“You could sit down the way you do on the jet,” he kindly offers. 

You relax at his words and move to sit at his side. He wraps his arm around you as you rest your head against his shoulder. You both sat there in a moment of silence, enjoying eachothers company. He was getting lost in the sweet smell of your perfume; the small bit of it that still lingers from the long day you’ve had. 

He started to recall all the times you two would be close like this. It didn’t happen very often. Sometimes on a long jet ride home from a long or stressful case. Or sometimes when the team went out for drinks and you would be tired from dancing. In the rare occasions you two were like this, you would tend to draw patterns on his arm or leg. 

So he decided to finally return the favor. With the arm he had wrapped around you, he started to dance his fingertips over your upper arm. 

He felt you practically melt into him at the action. If you could get any closer to him, you did. 

He continued tracing your arm with an overwhelming amount of care. It made you consider his previous actions compared to how welcome you were now in his arms. 

“Spencer, I’m gonna ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest with me,” you spoke with a hidden hesitation in your voice. 

“Of course I’ll be honest to you. I always will be,” he furrowed his brows at the thought of you being scared of him lying to you. 

You let out a small, almost shaky breath. “Am I clingy?” you murmured. 

This made his hand on your arm stop. He shifted his sitting position so he could face you better but also didn’t want to let you out of his hold. 

“No, never,” he told you with assurance. “Why would you think you’re clingy?” 

He saw you hesitate once more before you gave him your reply. “I was just overthinking things. Worried I was taking the physical contact thing too far or that I’m a bit too affectionate at times.“

“Why would you be worried? You’d never take things too far. You’ve always been respectful of other people’s boundaries.” 

You sighed with a shaky breath. He could practically see through you and see you considering your response. 

“Because I thought I was making you uncomfortable.” you looked down to avoid his gaze. 

He was quiet for a second, absolutely baffled as to how you would think you could ever make him uncomfortable. “Why?” His question was a barely audible whisper.  

“You seemed different. All of a sudden you would freeze when I touched you. You became jumpy and skittish when I talked to you. I thought I was too much for you but you didn’t want to tell me about it.” 

You shifted away to face him and his hand fell from your arm. You fidgeted with the sleeves of your hoodie as your face went blank. 

“You could never be too much for me,” he spoke with a soft voice. He tried to reach his hand out to hold yours but your hand disappeared in your sleeve at his touch. 

“Then why were you different all of a sudden?” You narrowed your eyes at him. 

His cheeks started to turn pink, “I- I wasn’t.” 

“Yes you were.” 

“Y/N please,” he begged. 

“Spencer,” you whispered as your eyes bore into his. “You said you’d be honest with me.” 

He licked his lips and his face turned red. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He couldn’t find an escape route. He had no choice but to tell you. And once the flood gate opened, he would never be able to close it. 

“I was freaking out,” he blurted. 

“I was freaking out because Morgan implanted this idea in my head that you might possibly have feelings for me based on the way you act around me. I’ve been obsessed with that thought since he mentioned it. So I freaked out almost every time you touched me, talked to me, even looked at me,” he rambled on anxiously as he tried to explain himself. No holding back now. 

“I tried not to let it change my behavior but I guess it did and I am so sorry for that. I never wanted to give you the impression that I was uncomfortable. To be honest I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable” 

You were silent for a moment. He couldn’t read your reaction. Your eyebrows slightly raised with your lips parted. He could only see surprise, which was typical, he just didn’t know if this kind of surprise was good. 

“Why were you so obsessed with the idea of me having feelings for you?” 

He could’ve sworn his heart was going to beat out of his chest at any moment. 

“Because I think I’m falling in love with you.”

 Here we go. Flood gates. 

“The idea you might like me back became an all consuming thought because I never before thought it was possible and I never wanted to get my hopes up. Actually, I pretty much think about you all the time so it wasn’t that far from normal. ” 

“You’re falling in love with me?” you asked barely above a whisper. 

“Yes,” he spoke softly with full confidence. 

The only change to your appearance was your eyes widened a bit more. It made Spencer's heart sink to his stomach. 

“Listen, I understand if this makes things weird between us and I am so sorry. I just couldn’t ..”

He couldn't finish his thought, you were too busy locking your lips with his. It was a sweet but cautious kiss, almost as if you were testing the waters in uncharted territory. You felt him freeze against you so you leaned away, breaking from the kiss. 

Not even seconds later Spencer placed a hand on your face and was diving back into the kiss with fervor. You instantly reacted as your arms found their way around his neck and your hand was digging in his hair. The kiss was intoxicating. Both of you trying to get a taste of the other after what felt like eons of pinning. 

He wrapped his arms around your waist while his one hand snuck up to the small of your back where your hoodie had exposed your skin. It sent a shiver up your spine while you let out a shaky breath against his lips. You tried shifting in your seat to somehow get closer to him. With his hands against your waist he helped guide you to sit in his lap straddling him. 

When you finally break from the kiss your faces are red and Spencer rests his forehead against yours. You focus on the sound of his breath and the feeling of your heart practically beating in your ears. 

Your hand moves to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “I guess I didn’t do a very good job at showing I had feelings for you.” 

The corners of his mouth lift up into a giddy smile. “No, you did. I’m just oblivious.”

“Sounded like you were in denial,” you lightly teased. 

“That too,” he chuckles. 

After a moment of enjoying each other's presence, you pull away from him just far enough to look him in the eyes. 

“I know I call everyone pet names, but every time I used them with you, I wanted it to mean something more. Part of me would always hope you would one day call me those names back,” 

Spencer swore his heart could give out at any second. He never expected to hear this from you and it made him lightheaded.

“This may sound childish but.. I never craved attention so badly, until you gave me yours,” you added. 

He licked his lips and smiled. With his hands still on your waist he traced mindless patterns at your sides. “You have my complete and undivided attention, my love.”

His words made you giddy. You bit your lip to keep yourself from giggling. Although, he would never be opposed to hearing your beautiful laugh. 

There were no words to describe the way that you felt. So without thinking, you leaned forward once more to capture his lips with yours. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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