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sunshinebuckybarnes · 3 years

Text

burning love

Pairing: biker!Steve Rogers x female!reader

Summary: Steve’s always doing things to surprise you so you decide it’s your turn to do something for him. And what a better time than when he’s closing up the bar.

Warnings: strip tease, pet names (baby, sweet girl), alcohol, smut; unprotected sex, choking. This blog is 18+ only. Minors DNI.

Author's note: Day number 2!!! I imagine this biker!Steve to have a buzzcut, I don’t know why that’s just what I imagined when I wrote this! The song I used for the strip tease is called Burning Love by a band called Pure Love - the lyrics are filth and I’ve wanted to use it for a fic for ages! Lyrics are italicized. (word count: 2.7k)

Kinktober 2021 masterlist

“He’s all yours,” Natasha winks when she gets to your car, “the music is set up, the lights have been dimmed, he’s in the back office so you’ve got about five minutes to get yourself ready.”

You enter the bar as quietly as possible, making sure to put the latch on. The last thing you need is another surprise visitor walking in on you, like the time Bucky walked in on you and Steve in the back office.

The lights have been dimmed just like Nat had said and you can hear Steve singing out of tune in the office. Knowing you’ve only got a limited amount of time, you bring a chair over to the center of the room. Smirking to yourself knowing Steve is going to love this.

You adjust the trench coat over your thighs as you sit on the chair and wait. You can feel your heart beating in your chest.

The look on Steve’s face when he comes out and sees you has you holding back a giggle. His confused face quickly turns into a dopey smile.

“Hey baby, what are you doing here?”

You stand up and make your way over to him, making sure to add a bit more sway to your hips, the heels of your boots clicking against the floor.

“Hey handsome,” you whisper when you reach him, placing your hands on his chest as you lean up to give him a chaste kiss. Pulling away with a smirk as he tries to deepen the kiss.

“I have a surprise for you,” you sing, leading him towards the chair you’ve set up.

“A surprise huh? Has it got anything to do with what's under this coat,” he smirks as you bat his hand away and push him into the chair.

“Be patient, Stevie, and all will be revealed,” you wink, giving him a quick kiss before turning on your heel and heading to the bar.

Steve’s eyes never leave you as he watches you head around the bar and grab a bottle of whisky from the shelf. The look you shoot him when you make your way back has his hands clenching at his sides. All he wants to do is rip off your clothes and have his dirty way with you but he’s excited to see what you’ve got planned.

You plant yourself on Steve’s thighs, a devilish smirk forming on your face. Steve’s eyes trail down your body, a low growl rumbling from his lips when he peaks your bare thigh from where your coat has fallen to the side.

His hands come up to rub along the top of your thighs, inching the fabric higher before you grab his chin and turn his eyes to you. You have to hold back a whimper when you see the dark look in his eyes.

You have him right where you want him.

Keeping your eyes locked, you bring the whiskey bottle to your lips, making a show of running your tongue over the neck before wrapping your lips around the top and taking a gulp. The liquid burns a trail down your throat as you hum. Licking your lips you tilt the bottle towards Steve, making sure to miss his mouth slightly so a trail of liquor runs down his chin and neck.

“Oops,” you giggle, leaning down to lick a stripe up his neck and chin before locking your lips in a heated kiss.

Steve’s hands come up to grab your hips. A moan falling from your lips when he moves you to grind on him. You can feel how hard he’s getting already through his jeans.

“Playing a dangerous game here, baby,” Steve growls, “making it very hard for me not to just fuck you right here.”

“Oh I can feel how hard it is,” you smirk, leaning in to purr in his ear, “just sit back and relax.”

Placing the whiskey down and reaching in your pocket for the remote Nat gave you, “all you gotta do is watch.”

Clicking the button, you hold back a chuckle at the look on Steve’s face when he hears the music kick in. First a look of confusion at your words, followed by a look of pure lust when he realises what the song was.

The sound of guitar and drums fills the empty bar as you get off Steve’s lap and take a step back, swaying your hips to the beat of the drums. You undo the buttons of your coat, letting it fall to the ground as the lyrics kick in.

We are burning up in lust, so please drown me in your love.

The way Steve’s eyes widen with desire has your heart beating faster. His gaze slowly takes in your knee high boots, tiny leather shorts and his leather jacket covering your lacy bra.

“Fuck, baby,” Steve exhales and it’s the most delicious sound.

And I can hear you breath in deep, face down in these soaking sheets, I just wanna taste your sweat.

You sway your hips as you turn around, bending over at the waist to undo your boots. The growl that Steve lets out has your thighs clenching, which doesn’t go unnoticed by the man behind you.

“You enjoying putting on a show for me, baby?” Steve questions, his fingers digging into his thick thighs whilst he tries to control himself from pouncing on you. “God, you’re fucking gorgeous, gonna make you feel so good when I get my hands on you.”

Don’t you look at me with those eyes, you’ll be the petrol, I’ll be the fire.

After kicking your boots off you turn back to face him. The way he’s staring at you has the fire within you growing. Pull it together, just get through the song at least, you scold yourself.

You run your hands slowly from your neck downwards, running them over the curve of your breasts, letting out a soft hum before continuing down to the waistband of your shorts.

Steve’s tongue peaks out between his full lips as his eyes burn into yours. You throw him a quick wink before undoing the button on your shorts. Before you get a chance to start removing them, Steve’s hands reach out for you. You bat them away with a chuckle, “no touching, Rogers.”

“C’mon baby, let me feel you,” he reaches for you again.

Taking a step back, you bring your foot up to his chest, pushing back until he’s firmly back in his seat. His eyes darken and it almost breaks your resolve, almost.

“No touching,” you state firmly.

Dragging your foot down his torso, making sure to rub over his hard bulge - the way he whimpers and throws his head back has you feeling like the most powerful woman in the world. You’ve never seen Steve - your big, burly, biker - look so needy. It was intoxicating, you could almost feel what he was going to do to you when this was over.

I’ll pin you up against the wall, drag you out across the floor, I’ll be an animal if that’s what you need.

You spin around, hooking your thumbs in your waistband as you begin to lower them down your legs. Bending at the waist to give Steve the perfect view of your ass in a tiny lace thong.

“God damnit,” Steve mutters.

Deciding to either put him out of his misery - or prolong it - you kick the shorts from your legs before sitting back firmly on his lap and circling your hips. With your back to his chest you can feel his panting breath fanning against your nrck. You take his hands in yours and run them over your thighs, making sure his fingertips are only just grazing your skin. Steve doesn’t try and take over, letting you use his hands all over your body. Your skin heating up under his touch and his leather jacket.

“Baby, love seeing you in this jacket,” he whispers against your neck, smirking at the way your body descends into shivers. “But you might want to take it off soon, I’d hate to rip my favourite one.”

With his hands still in yours you use them to tease the jacket off your shoulders. Giving Steve a perfect view of your lace bra from over your shoulder. You almost melt at the soft kisses he places across your shoulder.

“So soft, so perfect,” he mumbles against your skin.

You stand up abruptly, shimmying out of his jacket before straddling his thighs. Your eyes locked and it’s like time stands still.

Pull me close while I bite your neck, leaving deep marks in your flesh, I’ll hold your hands behind your head, girl your lips are bitten red.

You don’t object when his hands come up to your waist.

“Enjoying the show, Stevie,” you murmur against his lips, pulling back slightly before he can kiss you.

He moves his hands to your hips, dragging you across his hard cock. The rough material of his jeans causing you to moan.

“Can you feel how much I’m enjoying this, baby? How fucking hard you’ve got me? You’re lucky I kept my hands off you for as long as I did. But now? Now I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

Before you have a chance to protest he’s lifting you with ease. Your legs wrapping around his waist, whimpering as his hands squeeze your ass and his lips attack your neck. You gasp as your bare back hits a cold hard surface, tilting your head to see Steve’s got you laid across the bar.

“Steve,” you pant as he drags his lips down your body, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra before throwing it across the bar. “Steve, tonight was meant to be about you,” you squeak as he takes a nipple in his mouth, tongue swirling around the hardening bud before giving a little bite.

“Baby, making you squirm is literally the only thing I ever want. Every night should, and will, always be about you.”

You feel yourself heating up at his words. This man never fails to make you swoon.

His lips continue their path down your body, nipping and sucking bites into your skin. When he reaches your panties he tugs on the elastic with his teeth before letting it snap back against your skin, earning a high pitched whine from yourself.

You can feel his smile against your stomach as he hooks his fingers under the waistband and drags them down your legs before throwing them over his shoulder.

You're now completely bare before him, withering on top of the bar as he stands before you fully dressed and looking like he’s about to devour you.

“Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are, baby,” he whispers, his hands slowly travelling up your thighs towards your hips.

You can feel your face heating up at his praise as you turn your head away. Biting your lip to contain your smile.

“Don’t do that, baby. Don’t hide yourself from me. You are a goddess and I will happily worship at your altar for the rest of my life.”

Steve never failed at making you putty in his hands with just his words. You’d never met anyone like Steve Rogers and you’d never felt more loved and cherished than when you were with him.

“Steve,” you pout, “you have too many clothes on.”

You can’t help but grin at the chuckle he lets out. He leans over you to plant a quick kiss to your lips before he’s rushing to get out of his clothes until he’s standing before you completely naked.

“Mmm,” you hum, “that’s much better.”

His large, rough hands grab your hips and drag you to the edge of the bar. Leaning up on your elbows you watch as he takes his hard cock in his hand and pumps a few times.

Running out of patience, you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer to you.

“So eager, baby,” he smirks, running his fingers up your slit, collecting your wetness, “and so wet too. Tell me, did seeing how worked up you got me at your little show get you this worked up?”

He’s right. You didn’t think you’d get as worked up as Steve but seeing the way he responded to you had you craving him. When his fingers circle your clit you can’t stop the pathetic moan that slips out.

“Steve, I need you to fuck me, please,” you whine, back arching off the bar as he continues to rub your clit.

“Fuck, wanted to take my time with you, sweet girl, but I’m so fucking hard right now,” Steve grunts, using his wet fingers to lube up his cock before lining himself up at your entrance.

You both groan in unison as he pushes into you slowly to the hilt, taking his time to savour your tight walls around him. Leaning up, you wrap your arms around Steve’s neck and tighten your legs around his waist. You lips meet him in a passionate kiss that quickly deepens. Pulling back slightly with his bottom lip between your teeth, you revel in the growl he releases.

“Fuck me hard, Stevie,” you whisper against his lips.

Well, Steve doesn’t need to be told twice. One of his hands tangles itself within your hair, pulling your head back harshly which has you gasping.

His lips descend on your neck, determined not to leave an inch of your skin unmarked. He bites and sucks as his hips begin to move, setting a brutal pace that has you keening.

Steve’s fist tightens in your hair as he feels you clench hard around him, “fuck, baby, so tight,” he grunts.

You can barely manage a coherent thought at this point. The feel of Steve’s cock pounding into you, his lips on your skin and his hand in your hair, has your toes curling as you moan loudly.

One of your hands slides down to grip his bicep, your other attaching to his throat. Your small hand barely manages to get a grip but it’s enough to squeeze slightly and enough to have Steve’s hips stuttering as his eyes snap to yours.

You’re about to remove your hand, thinking you’ve made the wrong move, when Steve bites his lip and brings the hand not in your hair to rest over yours, adding more pressure so you know how hard to squeeze.

“That’s it, baby. Choke me, use me,” he grunts, leaning into your hand more.

The sight has you getting even wetter. Your hand tightens and the sound Steve releases makes you nearly come on the spot.

Steve’s hand trails down your body to your clit, rubbing harsh circles to match the pace of his hips that are hitting you right in that spot.

“Fuck, Steve. Right there!”

“You gonna come for me, baby?”

All you can do is nod, a silent scream bubbling in your throat. Your hand tightens against Steve’s throat causing his hand in your hair to tighten even further.

“Shit, gonna come, gonna come, fuck Steve!” you scream as the coil inside of you snaps. Your legs tighten around his waist, his hands catching you before you can fall limp onto the bar as he continues to fuck into you.

He presses his lips to yours in a searing kiss as you feel his hips start to lose their rhythm, signaling he’s close.

“Come for me, Stevie,” you whisper against his lips before kissing him again. Catching his moan in your mouth when he comes undone.

You both remain tangled in each other as you catch your breaths. Your sweat slicked chests pressed together as Steve rains soft kisses across your face until you’re giggling.

He pulls back with a smile that you match.

“Thank you for my surprise, baby. I loved it and I love you,” he says, planting a little kiss to the tip of your nose.

“I love you too, Stevie,” you grin before looking over his shoulder. The chair in the middle of the room is on it’s side, Steve must have knocked it over in his rush to have you, your clothes are strewn all over - your bra hanging from the light which has you chuckling.

“We should probably clean up before we leave.”

Steve takes a look around before turning his gaze back to you and shrugging, “nah, Bucky’s opening tomorrow. Call it payback for interrupting us in the office last week.”

If you haven't listened to the song, I highly recommend it! Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed this 💕 as always, comments and reblogs are super appreciated ✨🖤

Want some more biker!Steve? There's more here x

#sunshinebuckybarnes kinktober #steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers smut #kinktober

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marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

Day 6: Party

WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE

Continuation of days two and three

Marinette grins at her reflection in the mirror. The costume was perfect- close enough to the original that you could tell who she was, but also with her own touch so that she didn’t hate looking at the costume. She’d even curled her hair slightly. The knock at the front door makes her squeal in excitement, knowing exactly who it is.

“Cass!” She cheers, opening the door and grinning widely at her best friend. Sure, Cass didn’t talk a lot (she was like Luka in that way), but she always seemed to know when Marinette needed help out of her own head. And she was eternally grateful for that. She was even more grateful that Cass had agreed to do a duo costume with her since Jason apparently didn’t want to dress up. He was ‘too old’ or something. Well, Marinette wanted to have fun and wear a damn costume.

“The suit is amazing! I’m not sure the cowl I made will be good enough for it.” Marinette says worriedly, examining the stitches on Cass’ costume. “Where’d you say you got this?” She asks, frowning. It was definitely higher quality than the Halloween store downtown. Cass just smiles, the one that basically says ‘not telling’. Mari just grins, used to it by now. She passes the cowl to Cass and grabs her own domino mask, sliding it on. Posing next to Cass in the full length mirror, Marinette takes a picture and sends it to the group chat that Jason had recently added her to. Dropping her phone into her purse and grabbing her keys, she turns to Cass.

“Ready?” She asks.

“Ready.” Cass says. Marinette grins. Look out, Gotham, Batman and Robin are out on the town.

---

Dick squeals as the picture comes through on the groupchat. He was beyond relieved that Jagged had scheduled his Halloween party two weeks before the actual holiday. It meant that he, and the rest of his brothers, could actually go instead of being on the extra patrols they always had to schedule around the holiday. Grinning, he opens twitter.

@flyingrayson

Look at my little sisters! Aren’t they the cutest?! #halloween #Waynefam #jaggedstone

[image description: One girl stands with a hand on her hip, dressed in what is obviously a spin on a Robin costume, including: a domino mask, black tights, dark red tunic with a Robin logo, gold belt, knee high emerald boots, and a dual sided cape black on the outside and gold on the inside. Another girl stands next to her with her arms crossed over her chest, dressed in what is obviously a Batman costume, including: black catsuit, yellow utility belt, black cape, and a redesigned black cowl.]

---

Marinette pecks Jason’s cheek and grins.

“What, not a Robin fan?” She asks teasingly at his frown. He huffs.

“Not really. More of a...Red Hood guy.” He says, and she snorts.

“Of course you’d like the one with guns.” She says, shaking her head with a smile. “His costume is actually probably one of my favorites. Well, besides the whole helmet thing.” Jason grins, pulling her in and giving her a sweet kiss before he glances behind her and groans.

“My brothers just walked in.” He says and she smiles.

“Go say hi, I’ve gotta go ask Uncle Jagged a question really quick. I’ll be right back and Cass and I can show your brothers our awesome costumes in person.” She says, pecking his cheek before walking away. She looks around for Jagged, but frowns when she doesn’t see him in the main room. Pulling out her phone, she sends him a quick text asking where he is.

In the garden with Fang!!!!!!!

She shakes her head fondly. Of course he skipped out on his own party to spend time with his crocodile. Smiling, she heads out to the garden to try and get to him. She’d wanted to see if the man planned on being in the US around Thanksgiving. Bruce had already invited her (probably to get Jason to show up) and said she could invite any of her family as well. Since her parents and superhero partner were both dead and her grandparents didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving, she decided she’d really love Jagged and Penny to come instead. As she walks outside, she’s shocked that Fang doesn’t immediately run up to her.

“Uncle Jagged?” She calls, frowning. Where was he? And why was it so dark out here? Fang was scared of the dark. Jagged never would have brought him outside without more lights on, he was too protective of him. She tenses when she notices a slumped figure next to the bench Jagged had put in the gardens for when she visits. It was one of her favorite places to sit and design.

“Hello?” She calls, watching the figure for any movement. Seeing none, she steps closer and her stomach drops. Immediately she runs over and checks her Uncle for a pulse. She sighs in relief when she feels it, but the gash on his head is worrisome. How-

“Hello, Birdie!” An amused voice rings behind her, making her blood run cold. She whirls around and manages to catch a glimpse of the man’s pale face before a thick piece of metal flies at her head and the world goes black.

---

“Jaybird! Where’s Mari and Cass? They’re blowing up on twitter, even MDC liked my tweet!” Dick says happily, making Jason scowl.

“Did you seriously post my girlfriend all over your twitter?” He asks grumpily. Dick nods.

“Oh yeah. Her and Cass looked too cute to keep it to ourselves. Where are they anyway?” Dick asks, scanning the room.

“M said she needed to go talk to her Uncle about something. Personally, I think she was just avoiding you guys. You all crowd her every time you see her.” Jason reprimands, crossing his arms. Replacement rolls his eyes.

“It’s ‘cause she’s so much cooler than you. And she’s not an asshole like you are.” He says.

“Something’s wrong.” Cass says, suddenly appearing at Jason’s side. He jumps slightly, but then frowns at her.

“What?” He asks, surprised to see the deep scowl form on her face.

“Don’t know.” She huffs.

“Well if Cassandra believes that something is wrong, we should investigate.” Damian says, looking relieved that he wouldn’t be asked to socialize with anyone. A startled scream from outside makes the five vigilantes tense before running towards the noise. Jason curses when he realizes it’s Penny Rolling, Jagged Stone’s….something. She’s kneeling by a slumped figure, shaking it until a groan escapes it. Jason feels his blood run cold when the figure’s hair catches the light. It’s Jagged. Then where-

“Where’s she? Where’s she at?” Jagged slurs out, blinking wildly.

“Who?” Penny asks, gently holding the man’s face. Jason frowns at the gash.

“M. He wanted ‘er.” He says, and though the man is looking around crazily and slurring his words, Jason can tell he’s completely serious. And M-

“Do you mean Marinette?” Jason asks, stepping forward. Jagged frowns, but nods.

“Crazy clown.” He adds before turning and throwing up in the grass. Jason growls and turns on his heel, ready to go hunt the damned clown down. Out of everyone in this damned city that he could’ve targeted, why did he choose her?

“Jason, wait.” Dick says, grabbing his wrist. “We need to have a plan. Come on. You can’t just go out like this.” He reminds him lowly, Jason’s eyes narrow but he follows anyway. Might as well use the good tools. That fucking clown won’t make it to morning.

---

Ice cold water falls over her and Marinette sits up, gasping in shock at the sudden temperature change.

“Little cold, Birdie?” A voice asks before walking around and standing in front of her- a huge smile on his face and a thick piece of metal in his hands.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Marinette says, trying not to let her voice shake. This was the villain. The one she never wanted to meet. The one that gave her boyfriend nightmares that he couldn’t explain to her. And now she was alone with him.

“If you’re sure, we could have some...fun before Batsy arrives.” He laughs.

“Why would Batman show up?” She asks. “You do realize this is just a Halloween costume, right?” She flinches as the piece of metal- a crowbar, she thinks shakily- stops inches in front of her face.

“How stupid do you think I am? Of course it’s a costume. A costume posted by one Dick Grayson. You’re a Wayne, somehow. And Batsy always shows up when a Wayne is involved.” Joker says, his twisted grin making her sick to her stomach.

“I’m not a Wayne! Batman isn’t going to come for me.” She argues, cursing her decision to not wear her earrings today. Some days were harder than others, especially leaving in a mask. Even if the mask was a costume. Every time she tried to put on her earrings today, she shook and started to panic. Granted, it was probably for the best. Because she would definitely be tempted to transform and she did not want to give Joker that kind of knowledge.

“Wayne or not, one of the bats will come. You have friends in very high places, Birdie.” Joker tuts, twirling the crowbar in his hand. She flinches as it nears her face, making Joker laugh. “If I wanted to hit you, I would.” He says. She doesn’t even have time to figure out what he means because her shoulder explodes in pain. The pain is blinding and she wants to scream but no sound will come out of her mouth as she gasps for breath.

“That’s no good. A silent bird is a dead bird. So sing, Birdie.” Joker demands, and he aims slightly lower this time, shattering her left arm. And she screams. The pain tearing at her throat nothing compared to the pain in her arm, her shoulder. She sobs, the shaking making the pain worse, but she was unable to stop. It hurt.

“S-stop!” She manages to yell, nearly biting her tongue when Joker grabs her chin and forces her to look up at him.

“Hmm. You’re right! The internet should definitely see this.” He laughs, pulling a phone out. She shakes her head, flinching as he whacks the crowbar against the floor near her chair. He points the phone at her, and she knows he’s recording. The bastard.

“Hello Gotham! Look at this little Birdie. I’m afraid she flew too far, and now we have to clip her wings.” He says, sighing as if he’s actually apologetic. He sets his phone up on the table and stalks over to her before turning and waving at the camera. She watches him move the crowbar around warily, her breathing shaky. God, she hoped Jason wasn’t watching this. Hoped he was somewhere safe, not trying to go do something stupid. She winces as Joker acts like he’s about to hit her, only to stop before the crowbar actually connects with her good arm.

“I told you, I’d only hit you if I wanted to.” He chuckles.

“Go to hell.” She spits out, ignoring the voice in her head (that sounded suspiciously like Tikki) telling her to shut up. To not antagonize the crazy man with the crowbar.

“Gladly.” He says with a grin, rearing back and swinging the crowbar out to hit her in the ribs. Her scream echoes around the room and she has no time to catch her breath before he’s attacking her ribs again. Tears stream down her face, but she can’t scream, she can’t even catch her breath. I’m going to die, she thinks, and the thought is terrifying. She didn’t want to die, she wanted to live.

---

“Do we have a fucking location or am I about to go shoot up every goddamned warehouse in this city?” Jason growls as he zips through the streets on his bike. He knew Babs and Alfred were back at the cave, watching the livestream and working to locate Marinette. And even though he couldn’t see the video, the audio playing through the comms was enough to make his stomach churn.

He didn’t give one singular fuck what Bruce said. He was going to kill that goddamned clown the minute he saw him.

---

Marinette glares at the Joker, barely able to keep her head up. For some unknown reason, he’d decided to use his fists on her face instead of the crowbar. Not that she was complaining. She wouldn’t have survived multiple hits to the head. Not with the force he had. She watches him, and she knows he’s saying something, but she can’t tell what it is. She’s too tired, too hurt, to care what he’s saying anyway. Unless it’s some magical cure to stop her from feeling like she’s broken into a million pieces, she doesn’t want to hear it.

Eyes wandering behind him, she’s relieved when she notices the costumed figure. The cowl, the cape- Batman did come. How strange. Though, she had assumed that Joker was live streaming. So that could definitely explain that one. Deciding she was out of immediate danger, she lets her eyes droop shut, reveling in the darkness that surrounds her. She let’s it stay, and she can feel things slipping away, some of the pain lessening. It’s nice, until someone is poking her and talking much too close to her. She lets out a whine as the person forces her eyes open.

“‘m tired.” She mumbles, wincing at the pain that comes with breathing, with talking.

“I know, kid, god I know. Just keep your eyes open.” A voice says. She blinks, the blue marks on the suit in front of her helping her to identify the vigilante.

“Couldn’t fight.” She spits out, tears springing to her eyes as her attempt at conversation makes her chest ache.

“But you’re fighting now, you’re staying awake. You’re doing such a good job, I’m proud of you. Stay awake kiddo.” Nightwing says quietly. She vaguely feels the ropes slide off her wrists and ankles. Fighting to stay sitting up, because slumping will hurt more than she’s willing to allow, she sighs.

“Jason’s gonna worry.” She mumbles, and Nightwing hums.

“Ambulance is almost here, kid, just stay awake.” He says instead of asking about Jason. She hopes Jason is okay. Hopes he isn’t mad at himself for letting her go talk to Jagged alone. Suddenly, sirens are close and she lets the world finally slip away.

---

The pain is the first thing that clues her in. She isn’t dead. Which is a relief. But the way her entire body aches, is not a relief. Forcing her eyes open, she sighs at Jason’s slumped form in a chair next to her bed. She wished she knew how long she’d been in the hospital so she could scold him. Because he was still wearing the outfit he had on at the party. Which meant he hadn’t given himself a break. Just as she’s trying to decide how to ask the nurses for pain medicine, Jason’s eyes open.

“Marinette!” He gasps, starting to lunge forward, then stopping himself. “I thought, god, M, I thought-”

“‘m okay.” She says softly, and he frowns.

“Okay? You were nearly beaten to death with a goddamned crowbar. You’re not okay.” He argues. She sighs.

“I’m alive, and I’m with you. I’m okay.” She insists, wincing. He looks like he still wants to argue, but stops himself. He scoots closer and holds her hand, kissing the back of it softly.

“I’ll never leave you.” He promises. She smiles softly, before falling back asleep, finally safe.

Tag list: @maribat-october-rarepairs @stainedglassm @kittenmywaythrulife @laydeekrayzee @doll246 @queenz-z @deathssilentapproach-blog @literaryhiraeth @unoriginalmess

#angst #maribat #maribat oneshot #jasonette #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat jason todd #maribat joker #maribathalloween21 #maribat dick grayson #maribat tim drake #maribat batman #maribat damian wayne

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Forgive, But First Fun - Nandor x f(vampire) reader

Summary: After getting left behind to fight off a pack of werewolves on your own, now mad at Nandor, you and Nadja have decided a little night out couldn’t hurt.

Warning: slight angst, fluff, fun times, and a tiny smut mention

Masterlist

Trudging angrily through the manors wooden doors, face stern and almost scary enough to put the fear of God into anyone. Your boots stomp into the large opening and onto the wooden floor boards as Gullimero, Nandor, and the documentary crew follow you in.

Your cloak is ripped and dirty as it lays in a pathetic black heap of cloth in Gullimero’s arms, your hair not looking any better, not to mention your face and arms that have various cuts paired with grass smudge marks adoring your skin. All in all you look like a hot mess.

“What the fuck happened to you lot? You’ve been gone all night.” Questions Laszlo as he walks into view from out of one of the hallways, his eyes scanning over a perfectly clean and handsome Nandor, then over to the dirty crew and disheveled Guillermo who’s got some leaves stuck to his hair.

“I don’t know.” You snap sarcastically, “How about you ask Mr. Dodgy-shit-stick over there.” Referring to Nandor who’s looking anywhere but you, keeping as silent as ever.

Gullimero looks between you and Nandor, then back at a confused Laszlo. “Oh, um they’re not speaking to each other right now.”

“And why the fuck not?”

Guillermo sighs before leaning towards Laszlo, “Nandor wanted to graffiti where the werewolves live and Y/N said he’d get caught and then Nandor said no I won’t and then he did.”

Laszlo raises a curious brow, “That’s it?”

“Oh, um....” Guillermo awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, suddenly pulling off a green leaf, “then they chased us to the park and when the pack closed in on us Nandor turned into a bat and left us behind so Y/N had to fight one of them off so we could escape and now we’re here.”

“Well that sounds rather exciting.”

“Not at the time.” Whispers Guillermo to no one in particular as he glances over at the camera.

“Huh,” Mutters Laszlo thoughtfully, scratching his beard as he thinks of how to help this situation, “well if you two dingbats aren’t talking to one another I believe Nadja needs you Y/N. Something about....well actually I’m not entirely sure.”

Perking up ever so slightly at this positive news, you cross your arms over your chest defiantly, “Well since someone does, I’ll be going then.” You grumble with a low growl at your Nandor who’s refusing to make eye contact while he stares frustrated at the floor.

Nodding in acknowledgment, Laszlo watches you stomp angrily up the steps before turning his head over to Nandor who’s now watching you leave with big sad eyes.

“Alright why’d you do it?” Interrogates Laszlo with a raised brow.

“Do whaaat?” Replies Nandor defensively, his once high and mighty aurora reappearing in an instant.

Rolling his eyes, Laszlo sets a hand on his hip sassily, “Well I sure as hell don’t want an angry Y/N wandering around this old place for the next however the fuck it takes you both to make up....in however fashion that may be. So I ask again, why’d you puss out and flee like a mangy opossum?”

Pursing his lips together in apprehensive embarrassment, Nandor mutters to himself before finally crossing his arms over his broad chest and sighing, “Because......I....I don’t know I panicked!” Exclaims the large vampire, causing Laszlo to start laughing. “Why are you laughing?”

Wiping a fake tear from his eye, Laszlo lets out a few more chuckles before finally composing himself, “My good man that is the second saddest thing I’ve ever heard. The first being when one of my many victims offered me one of their rare and exclusive Poki-muns card which I still have no idea what the fuck they were on about. Anyways, doesn’t matter, all I’ll tell is that you better make it up to her.”

“But she’s scary when she’s angryyy.” Whines Nandor with a frown.

“That’s all women my young pup, but since your lovely lady is a vampire she’s more dangerous.” He says while giving Nandor a kind pat on the back, “So uh, stay safe out there.” Adds Laszlo before turning and walking down the hallway leaving Nandor with his thoughts, Gullimero, and the documentary’s camera crew.

“What are you all looking at!” Snaps Nandor to the rest of the room.

——

“Oh my goodnessess that’s awful, my poor dark angel.” Soothes Nadja as you take a moment from your long and needed rant about the adventures in the park and Nandor’s cowardly stupidity. “That big hairy rhino doesn’t deserve you Y/N.” She reasons honestly, doing her best to make you feel better, knowing all to well the level of competent decision making skills of the other two vampires in the house.

“I know.” You mutter in agreement, your body tense and agitated as you pace back and forth in front of her as she sits in a chair, “Fucking beautiful idiot prick horse-fart of a husband. Urgghhh!” You proclaim loudly while throwing your hands into the air angrily, causing the furniture in the room to screech backwards across the old flooring at your outburst of vampiric energy. Nadja’s long obsidian hair blowing backwards as you do so while she keeps seated, unflinching.

Face softening, she gives you a sympathetic smile, “Oh my lovely fierce lioness, I know exactly what will make that sad little frown turn into a happy one.” Beams Nadja with an excited clap of her hands.

Hugging your sides, you let out a frustrated huff before giving your old friend a shrug, “What do you have in mind?”

——

“So we’re at the carnival!” Claps Nadja in delight as she smiles at the camera, “This will hopefully relieve Y/N’s pent up angers and keep her mind off of Nandor.....for now.” She adds a bit uncertainly.

“HA HA take that fuckers!” You shout joyfully from behind her, the camera panning over to you at the ball toss where you’ve been knocking down plastic bottles with a rubber ball. The stall owner cowering in the corner as he shields himself with a stuffed zebra.

The camera focuses back on Nadja, “I think it’s going really well so far.” She confirms with a convincing grin. “Relieving all that..uh....rage.”

After winning a stuffed snake taller then you and deciding to wear it as a strange fashionable scarf, you and Nadja are wandering the carnivals streets while people watching to pass the time.

“So that’s why I never walk on the roof after 3am when I’ve had homeless man’s blood.” Rambles Nadja as your thoughts about Nandor come trickling down into your brain and nose. Huh, strange, must be cause you’re still wearing a thin red scarf of his.

No, stop thinking about him.

“Good lesson learned then,” You add with the flash of a smile before nudging her shoulder gently, “hey you wanna watch me win you something cool?”

Perking up in an instant, Nadja smiles a devilish fangy grin as she stops to eye up the multiple game stalls, “Why I would be delighted my dear Y/N, how about....um, oooh I want that giant tropical fishy with the long whiskers over there.” Points Nadja as your eyes travel over to the game stall with the large prizes.

It’s a game that requires the individual to shoot an arrow directly on three different sized bullseye’s stationed at various heights. Smiling like an idiot, you nudge your vampiric acquaintance in agreement, the both of you quickly swaggering over to the carnival game and it’s plush flashy prizes just screaming to be won.

“Hello good sir, my skilled roommate Y/N here is going to win me that fish.” Beams Nadja proudly as the teenager jumps off his chair to greet the two of you.

He smells like weed but surprisingly looks decent all things considered, “Uh yeah alright, two bucks for three arrows, hit every target directly on the middle red mark and if you make it on the bonus poster on the far back wall then you’ll have a chance to win that fish, good luck.” Mumbles the kid unenthusiastically as you slide him the cash.

Picking up the shitty yet still functional carnival bow, you give Nadja a wink before fitting an arrow in the nock and pulling back, lining up the shot and releasing directly into the first target to the left. Smirking to yourself you quickly draw again, hitting your second mark just as intended. Pays to be a skilled archer huh.

“Damn that’s pretty good aim.” Nods the teen as he watches in awe as you fit another arrow, releasing and punching a hole in the middle of the third target.

Nadja claps in excitement from behind you, “Yes! Win me that colorful fat bitch my feisty lioness!”

Standing like a warrior ready for battle with your bow in hand and wind blowing in your face, the kid almost drops the arrow he hands you for the winning shot as he practically swoons.

“Get those scissors ready, that fish is mine.” You growl in determination while picturing Nandor’s head as the final target, drawing back, you let the arrow fly straight into the bonus target. Winning Nadja her giant fish plushy.

“Yessss!” Shouts Nadja in delight as you drop the bow onto the table like a bad bitch before eyeing up the kid with a raised brow, “We’ll be taking the fish now.”

Wide eyed he almost falls off his chair, “Wait um, that’s the last one...I didn’t think, uh, my boss doesn’t want me to give away those ones.” He stutters out.

“What!” Snaps Nadja, “Then why are they just hanging there? You lied to us you little shit!”

“I’m sorry.” He pleads apologetically, “That’s what my boss told me. And no one ever wins the big prizes anyway so I didn’t think...”

“Well your boss he can eat a big horse turd cause I’m taking that fish.” You growl before jumping up and unhooking the fish from its perch above your heads, handing it to a practically glowing with joy Nadja who immediately hugs the thing.

Sticking your tongue out at the teen, you and Nadja turn to leave before a boney hand is suddenly on your shoulder, twisting around in an agitated instant, your face is mere inches from the wide eyed boy as he attempts to look even a tad bit threatening.

“No.” Is the only thing that slips from your tongue before your hand shoves him back, his whole body going air bound into the back of the carnival tent while the kid lets out a panicked scream.

“Ooooh Y/N that was very sexy of you.” Smirks Nadja while wiggling her dark brows, “Too bad a certain cowardly lion wasn’t here to see it.”

Petting the stuffed toy snake around your neck absentmindedly, you smile back a fangy grin, “Yes. Too bad.”

Continuing on your late night stroll through the carnival you both pass by random strangers, families, elders, children, and lovers all minding their sweet business completely unawares to the dark supernatural world walking right past them.

Although you’re quite enjoying this time spent with your best friend in the whole wide world, a low dull feeling of emptiness can’t help but creep into your undead being the more you catch sight of new and old couples walking together.

Sensing your growing sadness, Nadja nudges your shoulder playfully to gain your distracted attention, “Hello in there my black rose, what is on your mind?”

Holding the snake close to your body, a small smile creeps its way onto your face knowing she’s looking out for you, though it’s gone soon enough, “Oh you know....uh....blood.” You mutter unenthusiastically, trying to keep your thoughts away from Nandor and how much you miss him right now.

“Blood is it? But we just fed before attending the carnival.” Inquires Nadja in confusion as she keeps a normal pace at your side while the two of you follow the sidewalk past various shops and restaurants. “What is actually plaguing your mind my dear one?” She wonders with a frown, not keen on seeing you upset and in a grey mood.

Biting your lip anxiously, though not hard enough to draw blood, you walk past a couple more people before your eyes catch the sight of a small black bat disappearing behind a corner building just up ahead.

Squinting your eyes, your nose suddenly catches the scent of someone very familiar, “Nandor?”

Turning her head to face you, Nadja’s brows furrow in puzzlement, “What? No my sweet hurricane, forget that mangy old bear he’s not important right now.” Urges Nadja as she looks forward, suddenly surprised to catch a glimpse of someone who looks a lot like Guillermo racing behind the same corner you saw the bat fly behind. “Okay um what the fuck? Did you see that too?”

Glancing at Nadja you nod before quickening your steps as she does the same, her skirts flowing as she tries to catch up with you, though you’re much faster and with lack of annoying dress material, “Wait! You’re too fast.” Yelps Nadja.

Ignoring her protests you book it down the sidewalk like a maniac, almost running into a jogger before skidding round the corner of the brick building and coming face to face with a wide eyed Guillermo who gasps in surprise. Nudging him to the side, your eyes immediately fall upon the nervous fangy grin of your Nandor.

He gives you a shy little wave before shuffling awkwardly in place, awaiting your rampage of verbal and possibly physical assault that he’s certain is in the near future.

Taking a deep breath, you cross your arms over your chest defensively, “Were you following me?”

“Um, well.....I might have been....but only to make sure you were okay.” Mutters Nandor honestly, eyes shifting from you to the ground nervously as he awaits your wrath.

Pursing your lips together in thought, you shake your head before taking off the stuffed toy snake and holding it firmly in your hands. With a low growl do you grasp the snake in your right hand and hold it back like you might swing at any moment.

“You’re a fucking nincompoop you know that right?” Slips from your mouth without an once of anger lacing your words, instead do you hand the snake to Gullimero as Nandor watches in puzzled fear.

Taking a swift step forward, you point a finger into his strong chest while looking sternly up at him, “Racing off and leaving me too fight that angry bitch all by myself, and now following me when I needed a break from you! Nandor....... you’re something else.” You add with a shake of your head.

“Yes I know, and I’m sorry my love.” Smiles Nandor with saddened eyes, “I promise to keep you save from now on and fight off any werewolf who tries to hurt you....even if I am scared.”

Taking a step back, you can’t help the smirk that forms onto your face at his sweet words of forgiveness and sincerity. You know how much he fears werewolves and that he fled the scene thinking you were planning on following too, not realizing that you might actually give a shit about Gullimero’s and the crew’s lives.

“Oh my dear puff dragon,” You declare softly with a small smile, reaching both hands out to grasp his own, “I forgive you.”

Nandor’s face breaks out into the biggest and happiest grin you’ve seen since his last birthday when he walked into your shared crypt only to find you naked and holding a bushel of red roses while seated seductively on his coffin.

“Oh that’s fantastic because I was really missing you.” Reveals Nandor with a gentle squeeze of your hands. “Laszlo and Guillermo can’t make me laugh nearly as much as you can, they’re honestly rather boring.” He says before leaning in closer to whisper, “and not very attractive to look at either.” Causing you to crack another grin and your undead heart to fill with butterflies.

Chuckling you reach up with one hand to pull his collar closer to you and a second later do your lips clash sweetly against one another in a heated moment of passion. He smiles into the kiss before moving to pull you in closer with both of his hands, one slipping low to cheekily pinch your round bottom.

Feeling him against you once again has to be the best sensation in the whole entirety of the world even if you’ve only been separated for a couple of hours. You absolutely love the way his fingers dig into your back and bum with an animalistic eagerness that’s slowly starting to drive you insane. Oh, the things he does to you.

Especially how his tongue slips into your mouth with ease while you tug at his hair long dark locks. “Y/N!” Suddenly shouts Nadja.

“Nandor!”

Begrudgingly pulling away, you turn around to face the confused lady vampire while Nandor hugs you from behind, happily smirking at her, knowing she can’t do anything to hurt him now. “Yes Nadja.” You answer.

With the fish plushy hung over her shoulder, her brows furrow in confusion, “What the fuck are you doing? I thought you were mad at him?”

“Yeah well, I was starting to really miss him and also I’m kind of horny now so.” You reply with a shrug as Nandor hugs you tighter, resting his bearded chin against your head while Nadja huffs in defeat.

“Alright. See you at home then.” Adds Nadja before turning towards Guillermo and shoving the giant carnival fish into his arms, “Hold this Gizmo I’m going home.” Then just like that she’s gone in a black wispy poof, flying away in bat form towards the vampire resistance on Staten Island.

“Okay then.” Mutters Gullimero as he looks up at the dark sky.

Feeling a wet kiss on the side of your face and neck you smile before turning around to face your dear husband, “Shall we take flight to seek out our bed chambers?” You speak slyly in a soft yet seductive voice.

“Yes.” Grins Nandor with a flash of lust and excitement before turning his attention over to Guillermo, “Hey Guillermo I’m leaving to make passionate love to my wife so don’t bother us or I will have a rat shit in your pillowcase. Okay?”

You giggle to yourself as Gullimero’s cheeks redden while he side eyes the camera, “Understood master. Have fun.” Squeaks out the loyal familiar as he stands there awkwardly with his hands full of two carnival prizes.

Nandor sneakily squeezes your bottom once more as he gives Gullimero a knowing smirk, “Oh, we will.” Then a second later you two are flying high above the city in bat form, ready to make love to your sweet Nandor for probably the twentieth time that week.

Down below the camera pans over to Gullimero as he blinks, “Well uh, I have these things now..” He says, holding up the fish, “and I am so not looking forward to cleaning up their mess.......again.”

#I love me some himbo vampire what can I say #nandor the relentless #what we do in the shadows #Nandor #Nandor x reader #nandor x you #nandor x y/n #wwdits #what we do in the shadows x reader #fanfiction #my fanfic

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yee-fxcking-haw · 3 years

Note

Hey, I saw you asking for request in the Yandere Dabi tag? So, how about Hawks gifting Dabi y/n for Christmas? There is perfect image for that too. I will add the blog where it is in the post.

Y'all have the most brilliant brains I swear.

•Regifting•

Warnings: Yandere Hawks, hinting of kidnapping, grooming themes, mild dubcon, major sexual tension, Daddy Keigo, Sub Dabi, Sub reader.

Pairing: Hawks x Reader x Dabi (brief Dabi x Hawks)

A/N: LMAO my brain took OFF with this shit. There's gonna be a part two. Lemme know if you want tagged.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Oh angel, you look perfect." Keigo coos down at you as you kneel between his legs. His lean body is clad in all black, well tailored slacks and a handsome button up.

He's reclined on the couch, knees spread apart as he watches you present yourself in the outfit he laid out for you.

It's very simple, very sweet. All skimpy and silky, hugging your curves and perking your tits.

"He's going to love you." His eyes light up as he shifts upright, wings spreading wide behind him.

His words make you squirm, desperate to please, to impress.

Keigo had spent so much time taming you, working his ass off to get you so compliant. You were a rotten little thing we he first brought you home. Always fighting, always running away, always crying.

It took time, patience, and so much punishment, but he finally broke you. It was a beautiful process too, watching you crumble, watching you buckle and submit.

Now you're perfect, so sweet and willing and obedient. A wonderful gift, a sufficient offering.

Your shaking hands hold out some ribbons and a bow, a curious look on your face as you blink up at him.

"I didn't know what to do with these, I'm sorry..." Your voice is quiet, timid, weary of offending Keigo. He could be so _mean _ when you disappoint him.

"I'll help you, don't worry sweetheart." His voice is soft as he takes the material from your hands, it makes your shoulder relax, thankful for his unending patience with you.

Slowly, he winds the soft fabric around your body, tying it around your waist in a large bow. He leans back and admires you for a moment, rubbing his hand over his jaw as he contemplates his work.

"D-do I look ok?" You ask with a timid voice.

He sighs before using his knuckles to tilt your chin upwards.

"I told you, you look perfect, pay attention." His voice is firm, but not enough to set you on edge.

You fold your hands in your lap and nod quickly.

"I'm sorry, Sir." You mutter as your eyes flicker down.

He relaxes into the couch again, and you see him pat his thigh out of your peripheral vision. You quickly hop to your feet so you can crawl into his lap. You let him sling your legs over his strong thighs so he can cradle you against him, one arm looped around your waist while the other brushes some hair from your face.

"Listen to me, little bird." Now his voice is the tone that sets you on edge.

You perk up and look him in the eyes, waiting attentively for his next words.

"I have a very special friend coming over, I'm going to share you with him, as a Christmas present, ok?" He raises his fluffy blonde eyebrows, waiting for your reaction.

"Daddy... What does that mean?" Your hands wander up to the collar of his shirt.

"It means he's going to play with you the way I do, and you're going to be a good girl for him like you are for me." His words cast a spell on you, filling you to the brim with curiosity.

"Will I call him Daddy too?" You wonder, a little displeased with the idea of calling anyone but Keigo by that name.

"No, you'll call him 'Sir', I'm your Daddy, nobody else. Do you understand?" He reaches down to squeeze your thigh, a warning.

"Yes Daddy, I was just making sure, I'm sorry."

How could he be mad when you apologise so sweetly, so honestly?

He hums at you, proud of the sweet little darling you've become, all because of his hard work. He brings his hand up to his face, tapping his cheek with his pointer and middle finger.

You lean up and press a small kiss on the spot, batting your lashes at him when he smiles at your well trained response.

"He's going to be mean to you. Much meaner than me, but it's going to be ok. I'll be here after."

Ice settles in your gut, you want to ask him what will happen, you want to ask if it will hurt. Then there's a knock at the door and Keigo stiffens under you.

He grabs your jaw, eyes burning into you.

"Wait on your knees by the tree." His voice is so low, so serious.

You scramble off of his lap and scamper over to the Christmas tree, settling to your knees with your hands on top of your thighs. Just like he likes.

You want to tug at your clothes, fuss with your hair and adjust your legs, but you know better. He told you to wait, which means be still.

Keigo walks over to the door, casting one quick glance back at you to make sure you're situated as he directed. When he sees that you're in order, he nods once before opening the door.

The man standing on the other side is nothing short of terrifying. He's a mess of scars, staples, and wild black hair. Vibrant, blue eyes lock on your form immediately as Keigo welcomes him in.

He's got a few inches on Keigo height wise, but he's much thinner. He strides into your home lazily and silently, hands in the pockets of his billowy coat. You remember quickly how rude it is to stare, and direct your gaze to your lap as he draws closer.

"Well, you sure as hell weren't lyin' about her being pretty." His voice is like fine gravel, rolling out of his mouth in a low, menacing tone.

You watch their feet as they walk towards you until they stand on either side of you. His boots are thick and dirty, made of abused leather. They're a harsh contrast next to Keigo's shiney, clean dress shoes.

"Eyes up here." Keigo's voice washes over you, you obey immediately, looking up at him.

"Oh she listens." The friend sighs, shifting on his feet a little.

Keigo crosses his arms before speaking, you don't break eye contact with him for even a second, waiting for permission.

"Hey there, doll, name's Dabi." He sounds nice, playful even.

"Say hello to our guest, dove." With Keigo's consent, you turn to Dabi and offer him a sweet smile.

You whisper a soft "hi" to Dabi, captured in his turquoise eyes.

"So fucking sweet." He says, mostly to himself.

"Have a seat." Keigo says, almost shortly. You know he's not talking to you.

Dabi chuckles before waltzing over to the seat himself on the couch.

"So serious tonight, Birdie." He sighs as he reclines, his hungry eyes stay locked on your kneeling form.

Keigo walks around to the back of the couch, bracing his arms on the edge directly behind Dabi. Your chest clenches under the pressure of both of their greedy eyes, thumbs worrying at each other in your lap.

Dabi pats his lap just like Keigo did a few moments ago, a sick smile spreads across his marred face. You immediately look to Keigo, who nods shortly towards Dabi's lap.

"Come sit." He commands.

"Yes Daddy." You lift yourself to your feet and pad over to the stranger, timidly settling down onto his lap. He feels so _different, _so harsh and rough, nothing like the soft warmth of Keigo. He thumbs at the bow around your waist, snickering to himself when you jump as his hand skims over your skin.

"'Yes Daddy?' Do I get one of those?" Dabi asks as you situate yourself. He smells like smoke and alcohol, and something you can't quite identify, it's something strong and sharp, stinging your nostrils.

You shake your head when you hear Keigo breathe in sharply.

"Daddy said I can call you 'Sir'." You say quietly.

Your eyes wander over his scared hands, fixating on the staples that appear to hold the warped, purple flesh to the pale, healthy skin.

"Oh Keigo, you've out done yourself." Dabi's hand runs up the inside of your thigh, stopping when he feels you squeeze them together.

"Don't be nervous, doll, I'm gonna make you feel real good." His voice makes your insides ache, and not in the good way that Keigo's does.

You blink up at him, noticing how closely he's holding his wings to his body, how tense his shoulders are, how narrow his pupils have become.

"What's wrong, Angel?" Keigo asks reaching around his guest to grab your jaw.

"He's sc-scaring me a little." You squeak out.

This makes Dabi laugh low and dangerous, Keigo let's go of your jaw in favor of grabbing his friend by the hair on top of his head. He cranks Dabi's head back, earning a choked sound from the him. The hand on your thigh squeezes you firmly as he sneers up at Keigo.

"He's nothing to be scared of, sweet thing, he has to listen to me as much as you do. Ain't that right?" He leans down to Dabi, a challenging look flashing in his amber eyes.

"Of course, Birdie." Dabi relents with a venomous tone.

"Your Daddy would kill me if I hurt you, you've got nothin' to be scared of." Dabi flashes you a cheshire smile one Keigo releases his hair. It puts you at ease, watching Keigo exercise so much control over his intimidating friend.

"I'm sure he warned you that I can be a little mean, you'll like it though, I promise."

Before Dabi can speak again, Keigo's hand is around his throat, the action making you and Dabi freeze immediately.

"No marks on her, Dabi." His words are final, dripping with authority and power.

"Aw, come on, just one bite?" Dabi teases, licking his teeth like an animal.

Your blood freezes when you watch Keigo's grip tighten around Dabi's throat, astounded at his bravery. Dabi's smile fades, suddenly crumbling under Keigo's harsh gaze.

"You haven't even thanked me for your present, and you're already mouthing off. Sounds like somebody doesn't want to get their dick wet." Keigo says, biting off his words as he leans closer to Dabi's face.

"Thank you, Daddy, I'm sorry." Dabi chokes out.

You're utterly shocked, nearly trembling as you watch Keigo work his magic, subduing even this monster of a man.

"Good boy." Keigo leans down and presses his lips to Dabi's, making your jaw drop.

It should make you jealous, it should make you insecure. But they're both so greedy with each other, so wreckless. It makes your skin run hot and your core ache. Your hips wiggle against Dabi's leg involuntarily, capturing his attention immediately.

He breaks from the kiss so he can look at you, florescent eyes raking down your body.

"This desperate little thing wants to have some fun, should we play with her some?" Dabi asks, looking up at Keigo expectantly.

Keigo looks at you with ravenous eyes, body poised as his wings flutter slightly.

"As long as you both listen, you can have all the fun you want." Keigo says calmly, standing up before rolling his shoulders back as he walks around the couch to stand before the both of you.

"Will you be good for me?" He asks.

"Yes Daddy." You and Dabi say it in unison, bodies tensing. You feel something twitch under your thighs, causing a heated blush to spread across your cheeks.

Keigo smiles, wide and brilliant. He cracks his knuckles slowly before reaching up to begin the process of unbuttoning his shirt.

"I love it when you're good for me." He says it to both of you, emitting all the confidence in the world as he strolls closer to your feverish bodies.

You're in for it and you know it, but you're buzzing with anticipation. Ready and willing to be the perfect little gift for your new friend.

#yandere hawks #yandere dabi #hawks smut #dabi smut #mha smut #yandere #my hero smut #my hero academia smut #yandere smut

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kenganparadise · 3 years

Note

Raians s/o running around trying to provoke him but turns into Raian hunting down his s/o then turn nsfw

Oh boy this was SO much fun to write! I’m so sorry I couldn’t help myself with this fic. I hope I’ve quenched your thirst. I MAY HAVE OVERDID IT. I would really love some feedback on this fic! Thank you!

Warnings: outdoor sex, predator/prey, rough sex, Raian basically hunts down his S/O and fucks them senseless in the woods, AFAB reader.

🔞WARNING NSFW AND AFAB READER- IT GETS QUITE NASY🔞

Raian had some strange fetishes. You two have been dating for quite a while now. He was pretty open about them with you in your romantic relationship. He satisfied your desires and you satisfied his. You were surprised, Raian was quite good to you. Raian is an animal, he is a kure, but you’ve managed to have some sort of control over him. Surprising the rest of the Kure as well, You don’t really know how you did it yourself. They now acknowledge you as Raian’s mate. When the two of you were alone a different side of Raian came out. He became soft when he was with you. Gentle almost, He treated you as though you were something breakable. You’ve begun to notice the little things with him. The way he holds your hand, when you squeeze it he always gives you a squeeze back. The deep sigh he gives whenever you pull him into your arms. Even the way he nestles closer to you when you cuddle. Whenever you caress his face his eyes flutter closed briefly. He gave you special treatment. That much is true. Raian recently decided that the two of you needed to get away from the hustle and bustle that is Kure village. Even Raian needed get away and relax for a while. You’re happy he wanted to spend his vacation time with you. Erioh had a private vacation home deep in the mountains. He let you and Raian borrow it for the weekend. Well with the promise you wouldn’t trash it of course. The cabin felt homey with bearskin rugs, high ceilings, and a massive fire place to keep the home nice a warm. Raian had no interest in the wilderness, but he made a promise to go hiking with you. The woods were vast and fertile with life. It had rained earlier in the day, making the forest floor a little muddy in some places. Especially deeper in the valley. He enjoyed the fresh air and the gleam in your eyes as you walked through the mountains. Though Raian never goes anywhere without complaining. Too many bugs, and the mud, and somehow every pebble found it’s way into his shoe. He made you stop so he can dig it out every time. He showed you the whole valley. The land was vast, but Raian gave you a detailed tour of your surroundings. It was turning out to be quite the beautiful vacation. But the sun sets quickly in the mountains. Nearing the cabin, Raian let his hands wander down your back. You let out a squeak as his hand squeezed your behind. “God you look so fucking hot in those shorts.” He teases. You glared at his smirking face. He laughed at your purses lips. His arm made it around your waist, pulling you closer to him. The two of you stumbled inside the cabin. both kicking off your muddy hiking boots.

His lips captured yours as he pulled you over to the couch and into his lap. He wasted no time running up and down your back, then to your shoulders, then down to your chest. He squeezes your breasts in his massive hands. You take his face in your hands and kiss him roughly, shoving your tongue in his mouth. His hands find their way up your shirt, fondling your breasts. Your fingers tangle in his ash hair. You dig them into his scalp and you give it a hard tug. Raian subsequently growls in your mouth. Your other hand travels down his abdomen to his belt. You palm him through his pants. He’s so hard already. He grabs the hem of your shirt and tugs up, normally you’d lift your arms up for him to pull the fabric over your head but you hesitate. He pulls away to interrogate you. “I’ve got an idea.” You interrupt him before he even says anything. Once your words reach his brain there’s a wide smirk on his face. Every time you say those four simple words something good happens. Raian is practically champing at the bit now. “Well fuck! Don’t leave me in suspense!” He barks. You’ve had this idea swimming in your brain the whole time you’ve been here. You stand and calmly walk over to the door. You slipped on your muddy hiking boots. You turn over to look at Raian. He must have gotten the memo. He’s breathing quite heavily with his hands gripping his knees, knuckles white. “Give me a head start. Then...” you swing open the door and step out into the cool night air, “Come and get it!” You say as you dash into the night.

Noises from crickets and frogs filled the forest. Dodging trees and branches, the moonlight is your only source of light. There are bushes and greenery blocking your path. You leap over roots. You duck under low branches. You had a pretty good mental map of the forest form Raian’s tour. If you got lost you always had your phone in your pocket, GPS reached all throughout the valley. But then again you WILL be found. To the north there was the tallest mountain. The terrain was too rocky to climb, but there were deep caves. To the east was the lake with a small fishing shack and a boat. South were the closest roads and a small abandoned town. And to east a little past the woods were nothing but farm land. Raian was an excellent huntsman, he was a damn good predator. You’ve seen him track people down in vast cities like it was nothing. You wonder how long it would take him to find you in this forest. Here you were a willing prey. You needed to throw off his trail. You needed a plan. You know he’s going to find you no matter what. You looked down at your boots as you ran. He’ll be able to track your footprints in all this mud. The muddy boots are sticking deep in the earth. You’ll get stuck if you’re not careful. You run north to the base mountain. You’d use the rocky terrain to throw him off. You can’t see much. You hope to god you’re running the right way. But soon you see rocks, more and more. Perfect! You’re in the right place. Stones litter the ground. You’re at the base of the mountain. You look for a good cave. You didn’t Know how much of a head start you were getting. You knew that Raian is impatient but he also loves a good challenge. So you need to act fast. Finding a mouth of a cave that looks pretty deep you formed a plan in your head. You threw off your jumper and placed it deep inside. Then you dashed east- or you hoped east. To the lake. You hoped your jumper would create a diversion, drawing your lover into the cave not to the lake. There was a small shack on the lake side. You’d be able to take refuge there before you come up what to do next. By this point your completely out of breath. Your heart is hammering In your chest. An animal is hunting you down. You knew Raian was in these wood. He will find you. And when he does- Ugh. You bite your lip at the thought. You look though the darkness. Raian IS somewhere out there. There’s no way in hell he’s still in the cabin. He is in these woods. Your pursuer is in these woods. Your mate is in these woods. Your legs are on fire. Your chest is burning, burning because you’ve been running and burning because you’re about to get your guts rearranged by your beast of a boyfriend. The frogs get louder. Hopefully that’s a sign that you’re getting close to the lake. You celebrate in your head. You may just give Raian a run for his money. That is till you trip. You use your hands to break your fall. You manage to land on a nice patch of grass... and mud. Ugh. You curse under your breath. You look over your shoulder to see what you tripped over. Only to look up and see a very out of breath and very angry Raian. He is breathing heavily. You can hear him huffing. Moonlight surrounded the two of you. Nervously, You chuckle to yourself. You didn’t think you’d get that far, of course. Your struggling to catch your breath. Raian suddenly gets on top of you, pinning you to the cold forest floor. His lips smash onto to yours. Bruising your already bruised lips. You hear the sound of your cloths tearing. You want to protest but Raian shoves his tongue in your mouth. Your ruined shirt is followed by your bra then shorts. All torn to shreds. He lifts you off the ground. You were kind of hoping he’d carry you back to the warm cozy cabin to breed you there, but you don’t quite care at this moment. You pull away, taking off his tracksuit jacket and throwing to the forest floor. It’s swiftly followed by his shirt. Your hands fly down to his belt. You take his lips in yours giving him a deep passionate kiss. Raian pulls you away and turns you around. You are now on your hands and knees on the forest floor. Raian shoves two fingers in his mouth, Making them slick. He rips off your panties and slides a finger into your slick folds. Rapidly, He shoves it in and out. You hear him curse under his breath as he adds another finger, pumping them in and out and scissoring them rapidly. Once your prepped enough for his liking he pulls out his dripping fingers. He shoves them in his mouth to taste you. Then you hear the sound of his belt then the feeling of his cock being shoved into you. Right off the bat he’s pounding deep inside. You arch your back. Your arms are shaking, then they give out. You feel your elbows get covered in the dirt. Your face is inches from the forest floor. The forest itself is filled with sounds of skin slapping against skin as he slams into you. You cry out, he’s fucking so deep into you. He’s rutting his cock so so so deep inside, hitting all the right places. Your stomach is doing flips. He’s stretching you out in all the right ways. You are definitely going to have bruises on your hips when you get up in the morning- if you can even get up in the morning. The animal behind you is growling and groaning. You feel a sharp sting as the sound echos though the forest. Raian smacks your ass again. The rest of the fabric on your body begins to chafe your skin. Behind you Raian is enjoying this. For him these were the spoils of the hunt. You led him on a hunt alright. You were fast, but he was much much faster. The thought of hunting you down and rutting into your wet heat made him run faster than ever before. You’re face is on the soft grass of the forest floor. Raian’s hand is tangled in your hair now. Your ass is in the air being slammed against the man behind you. You can only cry out, unable to contain any noises as Raian takes you. A sloshing wet noise is heard as His cock slams violently in and out of you. His pace is brutal. Your boots dig into the mud as your toes curl. Beads of sweat form, dripping down your body. You feel Raian’s tongue flatten across your back. His teeth sink into your flesh. You cry out again. You scream his name in the dead of night. Raian’s pace gets sloppy. He’s close. His hand snakes around your waist finding your clit. He massages the nub in rhythm with his brutal thrusts. Your toes turn and your stomach does flips. You pussy clenches around him. Making him growl. Your fingers are digging into the earth. Mud and grass fills your palms, squishing out from between your fingers. Your knuckles are white. You’ll be picking out dirt from under your nails later. Raian’s orgasm gets closer. He wants you to cum first. He wants you to cum first so bad. He pulls you up by your hair. “Cum. Cum on my cock Y/N. Fuck babe.” He growls through his teeth in your ear. He groans in your ear. You sob as the knot tightens in your stomach. Your pelvis strains. You let out one last scream before your delicious release. You cum HARD. Raian milks out your high and let’s you ride it out. You feel for pussy contract and twitch. The pleasure is too much for you. You slowly come down from your orgasm. You go limp after that. You mate removes his fingers from for poor abused clit. He pounds into you sloppily. His wet thrust are hasty. You’re being overstimulated. Tears full your eyes. It’s too much. Way too much. Finally after feels like forever, he doubles over and groans through clenched teeth. His load is massive. You’re already so full, you feel like you’re going to burst. You both catch your breath. You whimper as he slips himself out. He tucks himself away then pulls you up on your feet. You try your best to keep your balance. Your legs are still shaking. Raian puts his warm traksuit jacket over your shoulders. You're pretty much naked besides your boots and the shreds of cloth stuck to your body. He helps you put your shaky arms in the holes. Raian watches as his release seeps out of you and down your leg You try your best to take a shaky step forward but your knees buckle. He catches you. Rain lifts you up in his arms. He smirks down at you. “Fuck babe. That was awesome. Let’s do that again.” He says as he leans down to kiss your muddy forehead. You lean your head on his shoulder and close your eyes. You’re both definitely full and satisfied.

#kengan asura #kenganverse #kengan ashura #kengan omega #kengan ashura x reader #Kure Raian #nasty

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whats-rambled-rambled · 3 years

Text

Long Nights - part 4

Neil x Reader

Chapter 4: World gone mad

(see chapter 3, 2, 1)

summary: inverted heist calls for inverted training

warnings: 18+, explicit language, gun mention, crackheadery, and possible whiplash

author’s note: Hi, yes, I know, took me ages, but hey, I hope it's worth the wait! 5.2k words, how even--

Anyway.

The song for this part is Bastille - World Gone Mad

Enjoy! All feedback is greatly appreciated, let me know what you think?

——————

Tag list: @cxnnienikas @neutron-stars-collision @ergunbilge @invertedneil @wanderedaway @mellifluous-cosmos @wonderwoman292 @buckysgoldenheart @townmoondaltwistle @theriverbeneaththeriver (please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list)

-----

The fact that you knew how to handle guns wasn’t equal to you being very good at it. Or enjoying it, for that matter. Sure, you could more or less hit the target, especially with some useful tips you got from Neil regarding a trigger finger discipline, but still - you’d rather avoid reaching for a pistol altogether.

You put back the weapon you’d been training with and Neil handed you another one. You couldn’t really tell the difference, at least until you checked the magazine. The lack of ammo meant you finally got to the fun bit that Neil teased in The Protagonist’s office and you smiled, looking back at your companion. He grinned at you, the gaze sparkling behind yellow-tinted safety glasses as he pointed at the wall next to the targets you used for practice.

“Just aim and pull the trigger. ” Seeing your nod, he added, “Okay now, be careful, it might feel--”

The bullet whizzed back into the chamber of your pistol and your eyes widened.

“Oh fuck me sideways,” you hissed under your breath.

“-- a bit weird, yeah.” Neil chuckled at the shock painted on your face. “All right?”

“Yeah, just processing.” Trying to blink the consternation away, you asked, “How do you make these? You put it into that...turnstile and voilà?”

Neil shook his head. “No, it’s not that simple. We receive a stash every now and then, we don’t know how to manufacture those,” - he smirked - “at least not yet. I do have a few theories I’m working on in my spare time, but...” hesitating for a moment, he raked a hand through his hair and sent you a nervous smile. “Wouldn’t want to bore you to death, though.”

“Dude, come on, with that smooth and soothing voice of yours? You could read the yellow pages to me and I’d still listen like that--” you mocked a dreamy heart-eyes expression, watching with satisfaction as that remark pushed Neil further into a flustered state.

Apparently, when explicit teasing got a little-to-no reaction now, you could still make him blush with a more wholesome compliment. As you started laughing, he rolled his eyes and scrunched the nose slightly, joining you with a stifled giggle. Grinning, you continued a little softer, “I’m not gonna lie - I probably wouldn’t understand a majority of the physics jargon, but I’d still want to hear all about that.”

A thankful look you got in return made your chest clench painfully, and your mind wandered off to those breaks near the river, and Neil’s animated rants. You knew one thing. Anyone who had ever ridiculed him for his passion for even the nerdiest things could rot in hell, and you’d gladly see to it personally.

A disgruntled huff coming from behind made you both snap out of the moment.

“Oi, lovebirds, I’d appreciate it if you could leave all that to after I prep you for the mission.”

Bottling down your annoyance, you batted your lashes at the commander, who’d just come back with keys to one of the conference rooms near the range.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, you have my full attention now.”

Ives nodded, waving at you to follow him. Meanwhile, Neil’s small smirk let you know that he noticed that faint undertone in your voice, but he said nothing, patiently waiting for the events to unfold.

Another person was waiting for you at the door. You recognized the woman who’d driven you to that abandoned factory on your very first day - you’d never gotten properly introduced, but you remember asking Neil about her once and he called her Wheeler. To be honest, with these guys you never knew if they used their real names, nicknames, codenames, or whatever. Not that you cared, quite used to it in your own line of business. You exchanged a court nod with her and went into the room.

As you sat down at the big table and Ives booted a projector, your eyes bore into the man. Definitely one of those types who enjoyed his beret and the paramilitary structure of the field branch of the organization. Probably a bit too much. You bit back a smug grin.

Those were particularly fun to mess with.

Ives caught your piercing stare and stopped the brief of the location.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you said, propping the chin on your palm, a polite smile on your lips. “It’s fascinating.”

He furrowed his brows, perplexed.

“What is?”

“How your commanding presence literally adds you inches,” you said, using all your willpower to keep a serious face. “I wonder if it works only for your height or--”

Neil’d futile attempts at masking an amused snort with a cough didn’t go unnoticed. Ives shot him daggers and then glared at you. “For fuck’s sake, would you focus?”

Your eyes flared up at the threat in his voice and you pouted, taunting him further.

“Or what, you’re gonna spank me?”

“No, I’m gonna shoot you,” he deadpanned.

You raised a brow.

“Kinky.”

Ives groaned, turning to Neil.

“How you survived this long without choking her is beyond me.”

Neil puffed his cheeks and gestured vaguely, but as he opened the mouth to answer, you chimed in, with a shit-eating grin plastered on your face.

“Oh, he very much did so, all right.”

The awkward silence that followed was pretty satisfying.

“Can we keep her?” asked Wheeler casually, leaned back in her chair, fiddling with a bullpen.

Ives gaped at you all, then slumped his shoulders in defeat, sliding a hand through his features. He was so done you could almost hear The Sound of Silence playing in the distance, but apparently, his sense of duty was stronger than the urge to leave you without finishing the briefing, so he just drew a deep breath and continued.

“...anyway…”

You caught Neil’s glance and you couldn’t help but poke the tip of your tongue out at him. The mischievous sparks in his eyes reflected your own as he shook his head, tugging the bottom lip between the teeth. Wheeler’s curious gaze flitted between you two, and as you didn’t feel like drawing too much unnecessary attention to yourself anymore, you focused on the plan that Ives was persistently going through.

Time frames. Blueprints. Entry points. Exit routes (you spotted at least one additional way he left out, but you weren’t sure if you could drag Neil through there, judging by that alley performance, so you didn’t bother to mention it out loud). Everything seemed clear enough. You still had no idea how being inverted would affect the lockpicking, but when you voiced that, Ives promised you some time to figure it out before the mission.

The mission. Huh. It wasn’t that much different from your usual assignments - at least if you forgot about that tiny insignificant detail like moving backwards in time - but something in this paramilitary and/or espionage vibe made your heart beat faster with excitement.

It had been quite a long time since you had company at the job. Working alone had its perks, but you wouldn’t mind a trusted partner in crime having your six for a change.

Another thing that you certainly wouldn’t mind - seeing Neil in tactical gear. Not that either of you would need one, but the image got planted in your head and suddenly you wished you’d had a bottle of water.

You realized that everyone was looking at you expectantly. Shit, was there a question or…?

“I’m good,” you said, shooting in the dark, hoping that would be enough to cover your distracted ass.

Ives squinted, but fortunately, that was an acceptable answer.

“Well, as you two can proceed straight from here - Wheeler, they’re all yours.’

“Okay,” - she smiled and stood up - “we don’t have any turnstiles on-site, but there’s one in the base outside the city, I’ll talk you through the basics on the way.”

So that little daydream cost you a chance to come back home to prepare? Grand. The problem was - you needed your heavy-duty tools, but you’d rather eat rocks than back away in front of Ives. Luckily, he called on Neil to wait for a moment, so that was your chance.

“Umm, Wheeler?” you asked quietly, following her outside.

She glanced at you curiously.

“What’s up?”

“I know I said I’m good, but could we stop by my apartment for a second, please?” An awkward grimace ran through your face. “I gotta pick up my tools. You know, just in case.”

She wasn’t surprised by your request. Moreover, she sent you a knowing smile.

“Sure thing,” she said and winked, and then it was your turn to present a slightly flushed face. “I’ve got you.”

----

You didn’t know what to expect from the whole inversion process.

The first time your brain stuttered was when Wheeler pointed at something she called the proving window, just in time for you to see the three of you coming out on the other side. You caught inverted-you glancing back at your present self; the schooled expression, but with the gaze shining with anticipation.

The second time was when it was you on the other side, looking at your wide-eyed past self. Feeling the incoming headache, you took a deep breath and followed Wheeler and Neil to the stand with oxygen masks.

“How are you feeling?” asked Neil, handing you the equipment.

“Weirdly normal.” You shrugged. “Or maybe not more backwards than usual, if that makes any sense.”

He smiled lightly.

“It’s the airlock. When you see the outside, you’ll get a whole new perspective.”

Wheeler nodded. “What he said. And to recap: you’re inverted, the world is not - all forces will be pushing back on you. Besides gravity.” She double-checked the oxygen bottle secured to your belt. “Just mind things that might be rising instead of falling.”

You furrowed the brows.

“Wait, didn’t Ives mention the rain?”

Neil smirked from behind the mask.

“Afraid of getting wet?”

“Never.” You grinned, meeting the sparkling blue eyes. “Should know that by now.”

Wheeler snorted and shook her head, walking to the panel near the exit.

“You’ll have plenty of time to finish the job before you move far enough to catch up on that. Although, if you ever find yourself in the inverted rain, here’s a tip: pop your collar.”

“Why would you--” Oh. The sole thought of the water going up from the ground to the sky made you nauseous. You swallowed with effort, leveling your breath in the mask. “...right.”

Wheeler opened the door and you almost gasped at the view. The golden rays of sunset (...or was it technically a sunrise now?) flickered on the training grounds’ equipment as the sky painted the scarce pools of muddy water with greyish violets and reddening oranges. Leaves shuffled in the wind, their dance almost satirical with that inverted spin.

Wheeler’s voice stopped your mind from wandering further into the landscape.

“Okay, ready? Ives asked me to remind you not to try any cowboy shit, you need to be in one piece at the end of the training.”

“Yes ma’am,” you mocked a salute and stepped outside, stretching your limbs, readjusting to the reality being slightly off. Neil stood right beside you watching you warming up, ready to take you to the obstacles section.

But as soon as the airlock’s doors closed behind you, you spun around, tapping his shoulder - “Tag, you’re it!” - and without waiting for his reaction, you leaped towards the assault course.

Surely that turned out overly optimistic. You counted on the element of surprise and a head start, but Neil had an experience with running while being inverted, while you… well. You tried.

“B+ for effort,” laughed Neil, catching up on you even before you reached the first obstacle and tapping you back. “But you can do better than that.”

“Just you wait!” you retorted and vaulted over a low hurdle, the mild confusion caused by the dumbfounded senses slowly eased up as you tuned out the brain and let the muscle memory guide your movements. Because hey, in the end? Yes, the natural forces were acting up against you. Yes, Neil had years of inverted training behind him. But you’d been challenging different obstacles your whole life, and courses like this one were your favourite playgrounds.

You caught on him by the next wall, playing dirty and tugging at his leg, pulling him down before he could jump to the other side. The exasperated huff he gave you in protest got lost in the squelch of mud under your feet, the sound more like a suction instead of the much-expected splash. Shuddering with disgust at such abomination, you rushed to the set of monkey bars, hearing Neil following up closely. You gritted your teeth, swinging your body to help yourself get through the part, and that’s when you felt a light tap on your foot.

You glared to your left, where Neil was gaining an advantage over you.

“Damn you and your infinite legs, man! It doesn’t count!”

“Losing looks good on you,” he said, landing and then instantly ducking under your reached out hand.

“Too bad it’s not gonna stick,” you scoffed as you ran after him to jump on one of the parallel logs. Balancing was easy enough, even with inversion; it gave you the perfect opportunity to plan ahead, while Neil had to maintain full focus. “Must say - all that sass definitely makes you like... ten percent hotter.”

But you’d taught him well, apparently, and instead of losing his pace, he only shot you a quick glance accompanied by an arched brow.

“Only ten?”

“Dunno, come over here and let me take a closer look,” you teased, getting a short chuckle in response. “No?” - you sighed - “Alrighty then.” And you leaped to the side straight into Neil, pushing him off the log. He yelped and grabbed you by the shirt, the momentum sending you both straight into the mud. You landed on top of Neil, collapsing into his arms for a moment to catch a breath and to stop laughing.

You leaned back to look him in the eyes.

“Okay, maaaybe fifteen,” you panted, booping his mask as you would do to his nose.

Neil snickered and nodded.

“I’ll take it.”

When your gazes met, his features softened, and he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear gently. You smiled behind the mask and sat up, straddling his waist. Neil was studying you closely, his hands grazed your sides and rested on your hips. Nibbling at your bottom lip, you leaned over him again and slowly reached out, and--

“Simba…” you choked out with reverence, brushing a muddy thumb across his forehead.

Tears from the held-back laughter threatened to spill any second as you observed Neil blanking out in utter confusion. The five stages of grief ran through his expression and then he closed his eyes and sighed theatrically.

“The fate of the world is in the hands of a complete madwoman.”

...the what now?

You tilted your head, grinning.

“Aren’t you a little dramatic?”

Then, without a warning, Neil shifted under you, rolling you off him and pinning you down.

“Birds of a feather and all that,” he said, clearly enjoying the way you squealed and squirmed as the mud got under your shirt. “You think you got a hang of the inverted movement already?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. Neil realized your intentions a second too late. A handful of mud splashed on his face and you chuckled with satisfaction. “Yeah, now I think I’m ready to go.”

You turned up at the airlock soon after, looking like something that cat dragged in, but beaming widely. Dreaming of a hot shower and a clean set of clothes, you put down the mask and the oxygen container and headed to the turnstile.

Wheeler was waiting for you near the machine, and seeing the state you were in, she just gaped at you both, trying to come up with an adequate question.

As you noticed her quizzical look, you gave her a thumbs up and smiled.

“If you ain't dirty, you ain't here to party! Wooo!” you whooped, throwing your hands up and trotting past her straight into the turnstile.

Right before reverting yourself back to your original state, you heard Wheeler’s hushed question.

“You two all right?”

And then Neil’s answer.

“Don’t worry, we’re good.”

--------

The truck’s engine hummed steadily, which could only mean you were on some sort of highway. At least the container stopped wobbling, so you could practice in peace.

No wobbles meant no excuses, though. You sighed, readjusting your grip on the tools.

Neil had fallen asleep some time ago, after making sure you figured out the locks and hearing your solemn promise that you would follow him soon.

One day after that eventful night, then inverting and going straight back without proper sleep. You knew he was right and you needed at least a nap. But you couldn’t. Not before you were absolutely sure you got it. The usual locks weren’t that bad. The inverted ones were a whole other story.

It’d taken you long enough to crack them in the safety of your own apartment, without the weird physics, ever-present even within the air-locked container. Without the pressure.

The fate of the world.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

You didn’t even know what was that thing you were supposed to retrieve soon. It was okay, you didn’t need to. It was a quite common situation in your work history. That kind of knowledge could be dangerous, after all.

The pin clicked and you sighed again, squeezing your eyes shut to stop the burning sensation even for a moment.

Besides, you were doing it for Neil. The memory of that panicked look on his face when he’d seen the documents was enough to keep you going.

But did he have to say that?

You had to do it. Not only because you felt responsible for him, in a way. What you’d told the boss was true and you weren’t the only one at fault for Neil not being fully ready for that assignment. He was your friend, wasn’t he? And there was no way you’d leave a friend in need.

You pressed your lips together, forcing yourself to breathe.

Probably a stupid joke, nothing more.

But what if he was being serious? What if that thing out there was really that important? And you were about to fuck everything up because you couldn’t get your shit together fast enough to figure out the bloody inverted mechanism again. And with every minute wasted and not spent on resting there was a higher chance of messing up at the actual location.

Hell of a locksmith you were, huh?

The feedback from the tools came with a final warning like a sobering slap. If you were to continue, they would snap any second now.

You let out a shaky breath and retraced from the lock, hiding your face in the palms.

A gentle touch on your shoulder almost made you flinch. Of course, he had to wake up in the middle of your breakdown.

“Go back to sleep, we still have a few hours left,” you muttered into your hands, trying to collect yourself.

“Not before you talk to me,” said Neil as his fingers slid down your arm. He was crouching right beside you, the blue eyes boring into you with concern. “What is it?”

You sighed and shifted in your seat to face him.

“Wanna make sure I got it, that’s all.”

Neil’s brows knitted together.

“But I saw you open that lock once, why--”

“Once! And that’s exactly the problem!” you fumed and glared at the table. “I can’t crack it again, I--” your voice wavered and you gritted the teeth in frustration. “What if it was a stroke of dumb luck? Should I start praying for another one to happen there?”

Another delicate touch, this time on your knees, was enough to make you look back at Neil. A shade of smile tainted his lips as he searched your gaze.

“Someone used to tell me all the time that if you did it once, you can do it again.”

You hung your head and huffed, “Maybe that someone was full of shit.’

“I know for a fact that she wasn’t,” he chuckled, taking the tools out of your clenched fists and putting them back at the table. “She was utterly brilliant,” he continued, reaching for your cramping, trembling hands and taking them in his, ”and always reminded me to take a break instead of agonizing over a stubborn lock.”

That you did, all right. Your laugh sounded awfully close to a sob. God, if you weren’t exhausted.

Mustering enough strength to look him in the eyes, you squeezed his hands, trying to convey all the gratitude in the gesture. And hide that bit of embarrassment, too.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said and his thumbs brushed over your knuckles. “Scoot over.”

You moved back on the provisional bench, making enough space for him to sit next to you. And so he did, not letting go of your hands even for a second. He started rubbing small circles into them and you grunted softly. Neil gave you a knowing smile and soon enough, his fingers glided between your forearms and fingertips, applying pressure to the tensest places, careful strokes and precise moves bringing a much-needed release. You couldn’t help small groans escaping your mouth, every one of them adding to the self-satisfied grin hiding in the corner of Neil’s mouth. But then, instead of teasing you, his features softened and you caught his glance, warm and sheepish.

“I don’t think I properly thanked you for offering to help me with this mission.”

“I couldn’t let you have all the fun,” you laughed and winced as Neil’s thumbs worked on your wrists. “Don’t thank me yet, we still need to pull it off first.”

“Well, maybe we already have, from the typical point of view,” - he pondered, lighting up - “seeing that we are moving back--”

“Neil, please, I’m all for discussing it later, but right now it’s about to give me a pounding headache.”

When you met his eyes, you noted with relief that he didn’t mind you cutting him off like that. He knew that you were tired, nothing more.

“Right, sorry.” Then he looked at you with determination, suddenly serious. “Whatever happens… thank you. It means a lot.”

“Of course,” you said quietly as your heart ached with unexpected fondness.

Neil smiled, shaking off the sentimental moment. His hands cupped yours and gave them a light squeeze.

“Now would you please get some rest?”

“Will you tuck me in?” you grinned and batted your lashes at him, earning an amused snort in return.

“I can even sing you a lullaby if that means you’ll fall asleep faster,” he said, standing up and tugging at your hand.

“Ah, I’m afraid I’m gonna crash too fast to properly appreciate it,” you giggled as he kited you all the way to the resting area at the front of the container. “But I’m definitely taking a rain check on that.”

“Sure.” One final brush of his thumb over your fingers and he let go of your hand, smirking. “Now sleep, I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

-------

Neil proved to be an excellent companion.

You disabled the alarms simultaneously, paying attention to all the possible silent traps. Forcing the main locks went smoothly, almost surprisingly so. For having something of such importance hidden there, the owners of the place seemed strangely old-fashioned; it shone through the antique decor of the lofty apartment as well as the security choices. Too easy. Tuning out an intrusive thought rattling in the back of your head, you scouted the dark rooms, careful not to leave any traces of your presence.

There.

The office you saw in the photos.

...but they’d redecorated.

“That’s one fancy safe they got there,” you said nonchalantly, eyeing the ornament piece of metal lit by your flashlight, “Too bad it somehow got left out at the briefing.”

Neil’s face dropped when he followed you inside the room.

“Christ, and what now?”

Good question. You’d worked with safes before, hell, you’d cracked a fair share of them using simply manipulation. But never going bloody backwards in time. How would that even work? Was it normal or inverted?

Well, there was only one way to find out.

“I’ve got this.” And that’s how you felt, despite the initial panic. There was a method to it, and you had most of the things you needed with you. Perks of overpreparing. The only issue was-- ... “It might take a while, though.”

Neil nodded.

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“Keep an eye on the time for me, I gotta focus,” you said, reaching into your backpack and accidentally pulling on the thin tube. Right. “...and maybe on the oxygen levels as well?”

“Will do.”

Your brain switched into the challenge mode, and your fingers tingled to give it a try. Armed with a sound amplifier and a little notepad, you sat down next to the safe and got to work.

Figuring out your way in was meant to be a hit and miss, doubly so with the goddamn inversion. But minute after minute, click by click, you determined the first contact points, and the years of experience took you from there. You scribbled numbers and variations in the notepad, fully focused on the task. Almost there.

Another combination. Inhale. Exhale. Pull.

Gotcha.

“Neil?” you called out in the hushed voice as the beam from the flashlight landed on a small metal box of a peculiar shape.

He was next to you in no time.

“That’s it,” he said, kneeling down. He reached inside and took out the box, then carefully placed it inside his backpack. The blue eyes glimmered in the dim light. “Good job!”

“Thanks,” you smiled and closed the safe. “Now let’s get out of here.”

You gathered and packed all your stuff, double-checking for any leftover signs of your entry.

Then you heard it. A faint, slightly off patter against the huge windows. You froze in place as your mind tried to grasp the view of trickles of rain coming up the glass.

Neil glanced outside, not mindful of the absolutely bonkers scene that wiped any coherent thought from your head. Although judging from how quickly his face lost all the colours, the view he got was even more disturbing.

“Christ…” he uttered, shooting you a panicked look. “We’ve got company.”

You dashed to the window to see for yourself. A group of people was crossing the empty street, moving pretty much normally, and that only meant...

Fuck.

“The owners?”

Neil shook his head. “Impossible. The third party, probably.” With his hand already on the holster, he hesitated, considering the options.

But there were only two: fight or flight. The problem was - the numbers didn’t look good for you to try pushing through the crew downstairs. And as for the second one, your initial exit routes seemed to be cut off already.

Although, there was still one path left. You almost smiled to yourself. He was not going to like it.

“Let’s go through the roofs.”

Neil’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?” he asked, scanning your face for any sign of doubt.

There was none.

“Yes, but we have to leave right now.”

He swallowed with effort and nodded.

As soon as you bolted out of the apartment and rushed up the stairs, the footsteps coming from the lower levels quickened. Time was running out.

You were about to barge outside when Neil grabbed your hand as if he sensed what was going to happen next. The doors opened and you lost the momentum, startled by the view. Heavy showers replaced the drizzle you saw through the window, intensifying the nauseating effect.

The last strands of sanity threatened to leave you, but Neil’s touch was like an anchor, grounding you and keeping you from spiraling further.

“Which way?” he shouted through the hammering, almost deafening rain.

You blinked rapidly and looked around to match the data from the brief to the actual location.

“Over there!”

Wishing you’d had a goddamn collar to pop, you leaped to the side, guiding Neil through your only escape route. You let go of his hand to vault over the vents, and just as your feet touched the surface again, you heard distant yells behind you. Shit.

The high density of the area was working in your favor, but only for so long. There was meant to be a gap between the buildings sooner or later, and one of them was coming right up. The jump was doable, even for Neil - all you needed was speed and a decent launch.

But when your companion noticed the edge of the roof, he slowed down and stopped by a low parapet wall, cursing.

“No fucking way!”

“Yes fucking way, Neil, come on! We don’t have time!” you urged him as the voices behind you grew louder.

He swallowed with effort, too transfixed on the gap. You bit back an impatient groan and grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him to look at you.

“Neil, listen to me. You can do this. All you need is a run-up.”

He didn’t seem convinced. You gritted your teeth, trying to keep your own rising panic in check.

“Do you trust me? Yes or no?”

He met your eyes and his features hardened. There.

“I do.”

And when you opened the mouth again, the first bullet whizzed past you. You flinched, but maintained the eye contact, afraid to lose Neil’s newfound confidence. “Then go first, I’m right behind you.”

Neil nodded and backed away quickly. Watching him jump, your heart skipped a beat, but he landed on the other side without too much trouble. Good. Your turn.

You dashed towards the rim and another bullet missed your legs by a hair’s breadth, hitting the parapet wall right ahead of you. A little close to the top, as you noted, jumping on it to leap across the gap.

But the realization came a moment too late. The wall crumbled under your feet.

Enough for you to not make it to the other side.

Someone screamed.

Was it you?

It didn’t matter.

The world dissolved in a flash of agonizing pain.

And darkness.

----

Static beeping. The smell of disinfectants. And your every particle throbbing in dull pain.

Somebody was having a quiet conversation nearby. The Protagonist… and Neil?

A wave of relief flooded over you. He’d made it.

Grunting, you opened your eyes and squinted, waiting for your sight to readjust to the poor light. Weird. Why would they keep you in such a pitch-black room?

“Gents?” you called out, carefully shifting upwards, wincing. “Would you mind getting the lights?”

The conversation stopped and you heard a gasp.

“Lights? But it’s the middle of the day?” said The Protagonist, but Neil cut him off.

“You’re awake!” Footsteps and a sudden touch on your hand. Neil’s voice trembled slightly, as well as his fingers. “Are you okay?”

You bored into darkness, hoping to see the familiar face.

To see anything.

To see.

(next chapter ->)

#neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #tenet #robert pattinson #neil tenet fanfiction #tenet fanfiction #neil tenet imagine #the protagonist tenet #ives tenet #wheeler tenet #long nights

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mischiefandspirits · 3 years

Text

Six Eggs in the Nest

Bruce returns from his trip through time to discover that not only had his kids grown, but so had his family. An old face had reappeared in his absence.

Part of the Six for the Age of One AU

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

“How are you feeling?”

…

“Come on, Bruce,” Clark sighed. “As subtle as it might be, your heart rate still changes when you wake up.”

Bruce grunted, not opening his eyes.

“Good to know your trip through time didn’t affect your language skills.”

“What did I miss?”

“Nothing of note on the League’s front,” J’onn reported and Bruce finally opened his eyes to see the martian was looking over Bruce’s vitals.

“Just business as usual,” Diana agreed from the doorway.

Bruce turned to Clark, who was sitting in a chair next to Bruce’s hospital bed. “Gotham?”

Clark gave a soft smile and answered the unasked question, “The kids are fine. They’d be here, but I guess Ivy and Freeze got into a fight just as they were about to leave and Penguin tried to use the distraction of the fight to move cargo or something.”

“I checked in with them just before you woke,” Diana said before Bruce could get worked up. “In Oracle’s words, I threw Harley at Ivy and Nightwing, Signal, and Corvid smashed Freeze’s helmet so that fight’s basically won. Batwoman reported that her team had taken down Penguin and were supervising the cargo’s transport to the evidence locker before heading in.”

Bruce nodded, relaxing. “I’d assume Batwoman is Stephanie. Nightwing… Dick?”

“Yeah,” Clark said, looking smug. “And Corvid is Damian. Tim’s going by Ghost Bat now.”

“When you disappeared, they all stepped up to become heroes worthy of your legacy,” Diana said. “You would be proud of how strong they’ve been.”

“I am proud.” He simply wished he’d been there to see them through the transition. “How long was I gone?”

“A year,” J’onn said, apologetically and Bruce nodded.

That was longer than it had been for him, but not by too much. A year though…

He’d missed most of the kids’ final year of high school. He’d missed their graduation. He’d missed helping them sign up for college.

Was Duke enjoying his literature studies? Did Stephanie go through with her plans to start the pre-med track or make good on her jokes about taking a year off? Was Damian able to decide between a business or veterinary medicine major? Had Tim figured out what he wanted to do? Did Dick change his mind about not continuing school?

And little Carrie was still so young. Would she even remember Bruce?

“What’s the cover story for Bruce Wayne’s disappearance? And Batman’s?” Bruce asked, pushing the rest down. “I’ll need to figure out how to spread out my appearances so no one becomes suspicious.”

The three shared a look and Bruce’s eyes narrowed.

“It’s not that simple,” Diana said slowly.

“I’ve been standing in for Bruce Wayne with Timothy’s help,” J’onn said. “It was Duke’s idea. Richard had taken up your mantle, but he wasn’t able to convince those who really knew Batman so I was going to pretend to be you until enough time had passed that we could fake your death without it being connected to the change in Batman. Then Timothy and Damian found evidence that you were alive so we’ve kept up the ruse.”

Bruce nodded. It was a good idea, even if Bruce didn’t exactly feel comfortable knowing the martian had been impersonating him for so long. Something else caught his mind, though. “If Dick is Batman, why is he also going by Nightwing?”

“Dick was Batman for a while, but… someone else is Batman now,” Clark said, uncertainly.

“Who?”

“We don’t know. The children won’t tell us,” Diana said. “They’re as stubborn and secretive as their father.”

“About six months ago Batman just… changed,” Clark explained. “We didn’t notice at first since Richard was still the one showing up for Justice League stuff, then Nightwing appeared in the news. It was pretty obvious Nightwing was Dick. We thought that maybe he was setting up his own hero for when you came back, but Batman was seen working with Nightwing and all the rest of the boys. He’s also more…”

“Vicious?” J’onn offered. “And dramatic, but in a grim way. His fighting style is firmer as well, in a way Dick couldn’t manage no matter how much he held himself back. His Batman is more genuine than Dick’s. To the point that, from what we’ve gathered, those who realized he had replaced you already think you’re back.”

“We tried asking Dick the next time he came up for a meeting, but all he’d say was that he wasn’t ready to see us,” Diana added. “Clark went to Gotham -”

Bruce glared at the kryptonian.

“I know, I know. Your kids caught me within minutes and Stephanie gave me a lecture you’d be proud of. And don’t act like you’re not burning with curiosity. Do you even have an idea who it could be?”

“Did you find out anything?” Bruce redirected and Clark shook his head.

“I couldn’t see much because the cowl is as lead-lined as you always had it and he got out of there fast once Stephanie intercepted me. He was tall and broad like you and what skin I saw was fair, so he couldn’t be any of the boys.”

That… didn’t add up. Who would the boys have trusted with Batman? “I need to get home.”

All three looked like they wanted to argue, but J’onn unhooked him from the monitors.

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

The cave was empty when Bruce teleported in, though the still-warm cup of tea next to the Batcomputer’s keyboard and the lit-up screens showed that Alfred had recently been monitoring the comms before stepping out for a moment.

“- anything yet?” came Robin’s -- Nightwing’s -- voice when Bruce hit the button to unmute the main comm line.

“Wonder Woman said he was still unconscious when she checked in,” Oracle answered.

“Batman, Batwoman, and I will be at the cave in a minute. The two of us can head up immediately and report back,” Ghost Bat offered.

“Speak for yourself,” Batwoman huffed. “You can hang around Wonder Woman smelling like a sewer all you want, but I need a shower.”

“You will wait for us or I will give all your sweatshirts to Goliath as nesting materials, Ghost!” Corvid snapped.

“Nah, Goliath can do better than G’s hoodies. Besides, he’ll just go steal some from Metro. I’m pretty sure half the ones he’s got now are clone boy’s anyways,” laughed a voice Bruce didn’t recognize. Batman’s, he assumed. Something about it nagged at him, but he couldn’t place it. He was sure he knew the person though. Was he altering his voice for the suit like Bruce did? It didn’t have the growl, but maybe he was just making his voice deeper. If his voice was higher…

Bruce was torn out of his musings by a snarl. He turned to see a large groenendael stalking towards him. Behind the dog was a massive pillow with five other dogs atop it. A Great Dane was stretched out regally at one end, wagging his tail but otherwise not paying Bruce any attention. A lab and a pit bull were flopped over each other limply in the middle, fast asleep. A German shepherd was standing on the other end, just as alert as the groenendael without the aggression. A Chihuahua was similarly eyeing Bruce from her spot tucked under the Great Dane’s chin, kept quiet and still only by the larger dog’s presence.

Bruce wasn’t surprised the dogs had invaded the cave in his absence. He could only hope Goliath and Wiggles had continued to be cut off in their separate portions of the cave and Alfred the Cat hadn’t been allowed to torment the bats.

He knelt and held out his hand. “It’s alright, Jane. It’s just me.”

The groenendael quieted at his voice and continued approaching him. The closer she got, the more relaxed she became until she was close enough to cheerfully lick and nuzzle at his hand as an apology for growling.

“It’s okay, girl. You’re doing a good job protecting the cave while everyone’s out.”

Ace was at his side in an instant to sniff him over for injuries and nose his neck in a greeting Bruce easily returned. Titus yawned and turned away as things calmed down, which allowed Ami to leap to her feet. She gave two quick yaps at Bruce, then stomped over to curl up on a corner of the pillow. Haley and Hazel slept on.

A moment later the roar of an engine echoed through the cave, heralding the arrival of the Batmobile. Bruce’s spot was slightly hidden from the vehicle bay, so he had the chance to observe the three that climbed out.

Batwoman’s suit wasn’t too dissimilar to the one Barbara had donned during those two short years she’d held the mantle. All Stephanie had altered was swapping out the red on the bat, belt, cape lining, and wig for her signature eggplant.

Ghost Bat’s suit was black, sleeveless, and made from the same lightweight armor Tim and Dick always used. A grey bat was across the chest, the color matching his gauntlets. He wore a cape and cowl like Batwoman’s, though the cape lining and wig were grey. The wig was also cut short to match Tim’s chin-length locks instead of Stephanie’s chest-length curls.

Batman’s suit, at first glance, looked exactly like Bruce’s. On closer inspection, though, it appeared thinner, closer to the medium bulk armor Damian and Stephanie used. There were also knives hidden across the suit and the cape was shorter than Bruce kept it. His build appeared to be just as Clark described, but Bruce knew the suit enough to tell it was making him look broader in the shoulders and the boots’ soles were altered to make him look shorter. Bruce estimated him to be a few inches taller than himself and around Duke’s width. The visible portion of his face was a pale beige, distinctly different from Dick’s olive tone or the other boys’ darker skin colors.

“- soft and roomy!” Ghost was arguing. “It’s no different than you stealing Bruce’s!”

Batman shot him a perfect Bat-Glare, as the kids called it. “I don’t have any of his sweaters!”

“That’s because after you steal them, Alfred always washes them and puts them back in B’s closet,” Stephanie snorted, pulling down her cowl. She gave him a wink when he turned the glare on her. “Just because you only wear them to bed doesn’t mean we don’t notice. Also, Tim’s stolen horde isn’t just Kon’s. He also got some of mine, Cassie’s, Duke’s, Damian’s, and yours in there. Dick’s and Cissie’s aren’t baggy enough and Bart’s are scratchy. He’s also got one of Kori’s because he took it thinking it was Babs’ and now he’s too embarrassed to give it back.”

“STEPHANIE!” Ghost shouted as Batman snapped, “Is that where my green hoodie went?”

Stephanie snickered as she turned to head deeper into the cave. Her eyes caught Bruce’s and she froze.

“What’s wrong?” Batman asked and he and Ghost followed her gaze.

“Kids,” Bruce said after a moment of trying to figure out what to say.

Batman stiffened and Stephanie smiled. “Hey, B.”

Ghost shot forward, but stopped just before he reached Bruce, looking like he was barely holding back from throwing himself at Bruce.

Bruce took the decision away from him by pulling the boy into a hug. He pulled down the cowl to press a kiss to the top of Tim's head as the boy started to shake slightly with silent tears.

“So B’s here,” Stephanie said and he heard her voice echo through the comm in Tim’s ear.

“What!?”

“He’s supposed to be resting on the Watchtower.”

“Of course they couldn’t keep Father contained.”

“We’re on our way.”

“You’re here,” Tim whispered and Bruce pressed another kiss to his head.

“I am. I’m so sorry for being gone.”

“Tim’s the one who found you,” Stephanie said as she walked up. “Or, well, he’s the one who made it possible for the JL to find you.”

“I heard. I’m so proud.”

“Damian helped,” Tim muttered, burying his reddening face further into Bruce’s chest.

Bruce rubbed his back for a few seconds, then pulled away so Tim could pick up the Chihuahua nudging up against his ankle. He made sure Ami was helping Tim calm down before nodding at Stephanie. However, he soon found his gaze shifting back to the unknown factor.

Batman was still standing where he’d been the last time Bruce checked. He looked frozen in place, only his hand having shifted so that it could rest on Jane’s cheek. The groenendael was staring up at him as she licked and nuzzled at his wrist and hip in an effort to draw him back from wherever he was, though Bruce doubted he could feel it through the suit.

She must have realized it too as a moment later she stood up on her hind legs with her forepaws on Batman’s chest so she could lick at his chin instead, snapping him out of it enough that he looked away.

It was then that Stephanie glanced over her shoulder to see what Bruce was staring at. “Shoot.”

“What?” Tim asked, tucking Ami to his chest. He looked at Stephanie, then Batman, then his eyes shot to Bruce. “Oh. Crud. We really meant to do this slowly.”

“Are you two going to introduce me?” Bruce grunted.

His eyes were still on the stranger, but he could see both eighteen-year-olds open their mouths to respond. Before they could, Batman nudged Jane off and reached up to pull down his hood.

Bruce’s breath caught in his throat.

“Hey, Dad,” Jason said, running his fingers through his black and white hair.

Ace nudged Bruce’s side, just under his ribs.

He took a breath, then another.

“What part of do this slowly didn’t you get, Jay!”

“We all know he wasn’t going to rest until he figured out who I am. I’m just ripping off the band-aid.”

“This isn’t my Earth,” Bruce said.

The three shared a look and Tim pressed into Bruce’s other side. “It is.”

“My Jason is…”

“Dead?” Jason finished. “Yeah, it, uh, didn’t take. Sorry to disappoint.”

“Not the time, Jay!” Steph sighed. “Come on, Old Man. You look awful. We’ll explain once you’re sitting down.”

Bruce’s hands itched to grab Jason. To grab him and pull him close and never let him go again.

He kept his hands to himself as he followed the kids to the meeting table. They had just enough time to get settled when the elevator dinged and Alfred stepped out with a fussing Carrie in his arms.

The butler took in the group, then gave Bruce a pointed look. “You are meant to be resting.”

“I had to check on the kids.”

“Of course you did.” Alfred came forward to deposit Carrie into the arms of her honorary grandfather then set a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “It’s good to have you back, Master Bruce. We’ve all missed you.”

Bruce nodded and looked down at the toddler.

She blinked up at him before smiling and poking his cheek. “Boosie back!”

“Yeah, Sweetheart, I’m back,” he said, voice hoarse.

Three motorcycles shot into the cave, the boys on them quickly jumping off. Bruce set Carrie on his knee as he took in his rapidly approaching sons.

Nightwing’s suit was similar to Ghost Bat’s, though his had sleeves and he had just a domino in place of the cape and cowl. The suit was black with a cobalt V across the chest that resembled a bird. The wings stretched all the way to the shoulders then ran down the sleeves to end at the tips of his middle and ring fingers. The blue color carried over to his domino mask and the trim of his boots. A pair of escrima sticks poked out from behind him and black pouches were connected to the waist of the suit like a built-in utility belt.

Corvid’s suit was black with a matching utility belt and carried the same moderate bulk Damian preferred. A long, hooded jacket sat over the suit, sleeveless and colored sapphire with white trim. It sat open, revealing the white outline of a bird stretched across his chest. The suit was finished off with a black domino mask with equally black lenses and tall emerald boots.

Signal’s suit looked the same as it had when Bruce was sent away, and Bruce took comfort in the fact that not everything had changed.

Stephanie ducked down for a quick hug, then removed her daughter from Bruce’s lap so she wasn’t crushed when Nightwing threw himself into it a second later.

“You’re so stupid for running off from the Watchtower, but I’m glad you’re back.”

“I’m fine,” Bruce said, holding the boy close with one arm as he reached out to grab his youngest’s hand.

Corvid squeezed back as he glanced over Bruce, then let go and left to take a seat.

After giving Bruce a quick hug around Nightwing, Signal went to grab his own seat as well. He pulled off his helmet and looked pointedly at Jason before turning back to Bruce. “Guess it’s storytime, huh?”

“You couldn’t even keep it a secret for five minutes?” Damian tisked after he’d removed his mask.

“He was ripping off the band-aid,” Tim mocked.

“We all know how obsessive B gets when someone puts a mystery in front of him,” Jason huffed, throwing his hands in the air.

“It is something you’ve all inherited from him,” Alfred hummed as he began to set cups of tea in front of everyone except Carrie, who got a sippy cup of warm milk.

Dick squirmed around so he could remove his mask and accept his cup of tea, then made himself comfortable in his father’s lap.

“You’re getting too old for this,” Bruce teased, wrapping his arms around the eighteen-year-old, and Dick shushed him.

“Where should we start?” Stephanie asked.

#batfam #batman #bruce wayne #Jason Todd #Robins are the Same Age AU #fanfiction #64ao1

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hellhoundsprey · 3 years

Note

For Jack's birthday - how about sweet little virgin boy (or maybe he's dark and twisted and needs to take it out on someone, I'm up for anything) decides to lose it on his birthday. And... Dean's a sex worker maybe? Unless we need something based in canon in which case I'll gladly send in something else 😉

Who says you can’t be dark and twisted AND a virgin?

Warnings: sex work, unsafe sex, stealthing

Tags: alternate universe – no powers, first time, top!jack, bottom!dean

Jack closes the door behind them.

‘Dean’ strolls right to the bed to unzip his jacket. He cracks the window and pulls the curtains closed. ‘Dean’ throws Jack a smile. Professional as it may be, it’s a good look on him.

Jack smiles back. His hands are clasped behind him, sandwiched between his ass and the door. His heart jackrabbits and the rush of his blood can’t quite decide what body part to prioritize.

So, this is it. Finally.

‘Dean’ takes off his jacket and hangs it over the back of the single chair. “So.” Dean inspects the room from where he stands, checks his watch. “Here we are. One hour.”

“One hour.”

“One hour.” Dean sets his watch. He peers up at Jack through the thicket of his girl-long lashes. His lips purse. He’s gorgeous. “A lot can happen in an hour.”

Jack is too excited to reply. It doesn’t seem necessary. Dean comes over to him and drags his cold hand over Jack’s shoulder, down Jack’s arm. Plucks his hands free from behind him and squeezes them, stands tall and beautiful and thick in front of Jack—the manifestation of all of Jack’s fantasies, really. Clearly a sign.

“Nervous? I was nervous,” admits Dean. Half a wink. “Been some time, but I remember just fine.”

Jack says, “Undress me?” and didn’t mean for his voice to rise in the end. But the corners of Dean’s eyes crinkle soft with his smile and he does as requested. Jack’s denim jacket. Jack’s sweater.

“This okay?” Dean’s fingertips pause on the buckle of Jack’s belt. Jack nods. His face is hot.

Dean is close enough that Jack can feel and taste his breath: mint and coffee and booze. The cold of his skin from standing outside for hours on end. A car pulls out of the parking lot in front of their motel room. Jack can hear the rain hitting the asphalt.

Jack’s, “Can I kiss you?” is met with Dean, nudging their mouths together. Jack’s breath stumbles. His first time kissing someone who is not his dad. Dean’s shave is just unclean enough for Jack to be aware of the rasp of stubble against his own, smooth skin.

Dean opens Jack’s jeans. Lifts Jack’s tee up his stomach and ends their kissing with a last, firm smooch before he pulls back to get rid of that shirt for good. Despite the ajar window, the room is overheated. Jack shivers for different reasons.

Hands on Dean’s chest; feeling. Squeezing. Dean chuckles knowingly.

“Touch all you want. Dealer’s choice.”

Dean kisses him again. Slides his hands around Jack’s hips and pushes into the back of Jack’s boxers, holds and pets him. Jack’s dick throbs against his leg. He tiptoes to better press against Dean’s mouth.

“Someone’s been waiting on this, huh?”

Jack nods, gulps. Dares to put his hands on Dean’s face and it’s Dean who starts walking them backwards, towards the bed. The room is small and the distance negligible. Dean hums against Jack’s mouth. Jack gets his jeans and underwear pushed down his ass, down his thighs. Dean grabs Jack’s ass again—easy, with the size of his hands.

“What do you need, sweetheart? Wanna take the edge off, first? My hand or my mouth, maybe?”

Jack heats with hearing all that. That it’s him who is asked, but also in general. He’s…yes, all of it, everything. He wants it all. Wants Dean to teach him everything, show him what he can do… “I—yes?”

Dean chuckles. He spreads Jack’s ass just enough to be able to rub down his crack, touch his asshole. Jack shudders—Dean wraps his other hand around Jack’s cock and squeezes before he strokes. So so different from how Jack does it to himself, wrong way around and not his own hand, and it’s... Oh, that’s what Dean meant by edge. Jack flushes for the embarrassing noise he can’t hold back on and Dean tuts, kisses him some more.

“You’re all right. Let me take care of you.”

Jack holds onto Dean’s shirt, Dean’s flanks. He’s so firm underneath his clothes; Jack wants all that, too, to see and touch and kiss—Dean twists his hand and Jack groans it’s so good. Dean goes from petting Jack’s asshole to roaming up his stomach, his chest, to thumbing and then plucking on his nipple. Jack chases the touch, gets a chuckle.

“Sensitive all over, aren’t we, Jack?”

Jack moans. Tugs Dean’s shirt out of his jeans. “Can you…? Please?”

Dean lets go of Jack in favor of stripping out of his top. A single thick pendant dangling from a black leather string rests on his bare chest, and Jack realizes how there are freckles here, too—milky-light skin not much different from his own. He drags his hands over the newfound plane, gets a feel for how soft and warm exactly Dean is. No six-pack. Jack isn’t into those, anyway.

“Like what you see?” Dean smiles, gets his hand back on Jack’s cock. “Hm, yeah, you do. You think about this a lot? Kissing other dudes? Looking at each other naked?”

Jack mumbles, “Yes,” and licks his lip, can’t stop staring. Dean jacks him confidently, perfectly.

“You tell me when you’re close, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Awesome. Okay.”

Dean pushes Jack backwards so he can sink to his knees between Jack and the bed. Can rub his available hand up-down Jack’s thigh. Can ask Jack:

“You ever done this?”

Jack shakes his head, beet-red. He’s seen videos, of course. So many videos.

But nothing compares to—having it done to you. To watch Dean closing his eyes and leaning in and—wrapping his lips around Jack’s cock, held steady by the base with his skilled fingers. Dean takes him halfway down in one swift push, engulfs Jack in hotwetsoft and Jack gasps, shocked with how good it is, and the drag out is just as intoxicating. Dean suckles the tip and bats his lashes, peers up at Jack and Jack moans, didn’t expect to be watched. Dean chuckles around Jack’s cock and goes back down on it. Swallows it whole. Oh, gosh.

Jack’s hands can’t help but dig into Dean’s hair and hold on. Push him in, off, both—too much and not enough at the same time, making Jack’s balls draw tight and tingle. His cock fattens further in the confines of Dean’s beautiful throat. Dean lets him move his hips, lets him pump in and out of his mouth on his own accord. Jack groans, widens his stance. Oh, this won’t take long. Not long at all.

Dean reaches around to play with Jack’s asshole some more, and that’s that. Jack holds Dean’s skull firm and presses in, locks his hips—Dean startles, tries to pull back, but Jack is strong enough to keep him right where he is. Jack watches—fascinated, blurrily—how Dean struggles, how his face scrunches up and starts to go red. Jack lets him up once he’s done shooting down his throat. Dean gulps for air and coughs wetly.

Dean wipes his messy mouth and chin with the back of his hand. “Jesus, I said…! Not cool.”

Jack doesn’t tell him sorry. He huffs and grabs his cock instead, kneads the lingering swell of it. Dean’s spit makes the drag perfect, makes Jack’s toes curl inside his sneakers. Besides a small glare, Dean doesn’t protest getting Jack’s dick stuffed back into his mouth.

“On the bed. Take off your jeans.”

Again, “Jesus,” and a glint in Dean’s eye when he adds, “Bossy,” and then that grin again, wild and beautiful and Jack smiles back, bites his lip.

Jack climbs the bed, rids himself of the remnants of his outfit and watches Dean peeling himself out of his skin-tight jeans. He’s bare underneath. He toes off his boots, his socks. Dean crawls after Jack, hovers on all fours.

“This what you had in mind? Yeah?”

Jack nods, pleased. Rubs Dean’s skin again, the baby-flush on his tits and the lightest sheen of sweat. Dean licks his puffed lips. Watches Jack’s face with lidded eyes.

“You still sure you want to…?”

Small, “Yes,” and Jack’s cock struggles to get ready again in his own grip. “Can I… Can I maybe suck you, too? To see what it’s like,” and Dean kisses him for that, licks fat into his mouth. Pushes himself up and kneels forward until he’s straddling Jack’s shoulders. Geez, his thighs. His pretty, fat cock.

Only chubbed, not fully there yet. Dean works himself rough but lets Jack take over. Lets him get a feel, get mesmerized by how thick he is, here, too. Cut, like Jack. Dean leans back to brace all his weight onto his hands. Sighs, relaxes. Lets Jack tease him full. Or, full enough.

Dean hums, “Easy,” when Jack tugs him forward, cranes his neck to get his lips on Dean’s cock. Dean cups the back of Jack’s head to support his neck and Jack laves his tongue around Dean’s glans—prods at the slit and closes his lips and pushes on, lets it poke into his mouth, pillow against his tongue. It’s—he likes this. He didn’t doubt he would. “Fuck. You have a cute mouth. You know that?”

Jack hums. Keeps exploring and circles his tongue, fucks at Dean’s frenulum. He imagines him growing fatter for it. Jack’s fist strokes the many inches his mouth can’t get to just yet.

Soft, “Fuck,” from above. Jack’s available hand gets plucked off Dean’s thigh, gets circled and pressed down below, fingers against Dean’s…! Jack’s fingers stiffen and rub eagerly. “There you go,” and a hitch to Dean’s hips when Jack sinks one finger inside—it’s all soft and slick already, well-used and ready for Jack. Jack’s cock surges for that idea—that either Dean’s had other customers before him today or that he just keeps himself available like this constantly. Jack stuffs a second digit next to the first and Dean gasps, purrs his chuckle. “Fuck. Greedy kid,” he jokes, without an ounce of an idea how right he is.

Jack wants. Jack craves.

Dad doesn’t know where Jack is right now, because of course Jack is at school, of course Jack wouldn’t skip class and fake Dad’s signature and cash out the savings account Jack’s grandparents started for him years ago. It’s Jack’s birthday. Jack is old enough to make his own decisions.

Dean’s asshole sucks at his fingers like his mouth did mere minutes ago. Clings to them soft and needy and Jack will put his cock in there, next, and it will feel so so good, better than he imagined it would be—so dirty, with another guy, but Jack always knew he’d prefer this. That when he laid eyes on Dean the first time, driving past that alley with Dad who insisted on hurrying it up, this part of town is no good news, Jack, and Jack understood that he could just purchase Dean’s time, buy him for a while, that his mind was already made up.

Jack churns his fingers in and up, pumps them steady with Dean’s cock shuddering in his mouth. Dean groans and lets him, rolls his hips just-so—careful, subtle, because this is for Jack, not for himself. Jack is paying him for this. Jack gets to call the shots.

“Can we put it in, now? Please?”

Dean snickers. “Good to go already? Wow. To be young again…!”

Jack demands, “Sit on it,” and Dean nods with gentle, practiced compliance. Dean grabs the travel pack of lube and one of the condoms he tossed onto the bed before getting rid of his jeans. He rips both open. Jack makes a face as Dean rolls the condom over his dick for him.

Dean slathers the lube on Jack’s wrapped cock and straddles him again. Holds it steady with one hand and slowly sinks down on it—it goes in without struggle, just like it did with Dean’s mouth, and Jack’s hands fly to Dean’s hips. Jack gasps and lifts his ass off the bed to get more, deeper—Dean chuckles and allows it, can let go of Jack to stem both hands into the mattress next to Jack’s head instead, balance his weight.

“Good?” Dean smirks. Jack moans. Grinds them together, up into Dean’s tight, perfect body. Dean hums, obviously enjoys himself. He’s crushing, swollen-hot inside—Jack’s cock parts the slick walls of his insides anew on each stroke, forces him back open every time. Bottomless. Jack can’t get enough of it. “I’ll start moving now, all right?” and Jack falters, confused, until—Dean moves.

Lift and drop of his ass, circles of his hips, knocking Jack’s cock around inside him. Flexing inside and milking at Jack, and Jack can’t splutter fast enough, “W-wait,” before he’s already coming, shuddering apart inside someone. Jack’s eyes roll and Dean laughs low, kisses Jack’s mouth, his face, his chin.

“Still a good fifty minutes to go, bud. No worries, you’re getting your money’s worth.”

Jack can’t protest or do much than submit to Dean’s kisses and touches. Still buried inside him with the condom now slippery from inside and Jack’s cock so sensitive every nudge and clench of Dean’s insides makes him jump. Dean coos at him. Pets his throat for him; his chest. Sucks on Jack’s earlobe, on Jack’s clavicle. Jack closes his eyes. Dean’s weight holds him down effortlessly. It’s—nice.

Jack sighs. Dean smells nice. The bed does, too. Clean. The lube. The latex. Jack’s come laced into Dean’s hot breath.

Jack wants to ask him—so many things. How long he has been doing this kind of work. If he likes it. What his most and least favorite parts are. What kind of music he likes. If that one time Jack spotted him in church was an accident and why Dean even went there in the first place (why he doesn’t go anymore). But: fifty minutes left. Jack’s paid for sex, this time.

“I want to do it from behind.”

Dean chuckles, grinds his hips. Jack grunts, squeezes him in an attempt to keep him still—uselessly so. “You’re overworking that poor dick, kid. Gotta let him breathe for a minute. Why don’t you lay back, let me spoil some other parts for a change?”

Jack reluctantly agrees. His load drips out of the condom once Dean pulls him out. Dean cleans him, discards the condom. Kisses and nuzzles Jack’s clean, floppy dick before he moves lower to mouth at Jack’s balls. Jack groans—they’re not any less sensitive than the rest of his junk. His knees draw up and out on their own, though. He keeps his dick in his hand just to protect it from Dean’s eager mouth.

Dean gets comfy on his stomach and goes to town on Jack’s balls. It’s nice, yes, but Jack would rather…! But he has to get hard again first, somehow, so he’s all out of ideas. Dean’s laps and kisses travel lower and lower until he’s making out with Jack’s asshole, and that is… Oh, that is good. Really good.

“You like that?”

Jack nods, groans. Squeezes his dick; wills it hard, hurry it up.

Dean hums. Laps at Jack’s hole again. “I can put something in here if you want. My fingers…my cock…!”

“No, just…” Jack huffs. Tugs harder on his dick. “Just—keep going. Get me hard again.”

Dean scoffs. Spreads Jack’s hole with his thumbs. “Sure thing.”

Doesn’t take much longer until Jack is hard enough to consider it ‘enough’. He nudges at Dean’s head. Dean complies, moves. On all fours, his ass towards Jack and the headboard, he’s—geez, he’s stunning. Waxed bare and freckled here, too. He shakes his ass and grins over his shoulder, dips his chest lower into the bed.

“C’mon,” he teases. Jack watches Dean’s hand grabbing his own cock, stroking it sweet and firm. “Like that? That’s what you wanted, right?”

“Yes.” Jack sits up. Kneels up behind Dean.

Dean gasps as Jack thumbs his cock into him without preamble. “Jesus, wait—!” No condom. Just the slick inside Dean.

“No,” says Jack, and bottoms out. “I’ll pay extra,” he adds, and Dean’s fury falters a little for that but he’s still not convinced. Not that he necessarily has to be. Jack pulls him back by his hips and churns his dick deep, makes Dean’s tense breath thud out of him—his pretty face is flushed from the position, from the humiliation of a high schooler telling him what to do. How to do his job.

“It’s…” Dean groans for the next thrust. His eyes slide smaller. His asshole wrings tight around the base of Jack’s bare cock. Dean licks his lip. He’s still stroking himself. “It’s not gonna be cheap.”

“That’s okay.”

Jack makes him stay ass-up after he’s done loading him up. Makes him push Jack’s come back out so Jack can finger it back in, watch Dean’s asshole bloom and shudder and take whatever it’s given, how it swallows it all like a greedy mouth. Dean groans. He hasn’t come a single time and his dick is going soft yet again, irrelevant between his legs. Jack drags his tongue over the gape of Dean’s hole and tastes—lube, and ass, his own come. Moves deeper, to Dean’s audible delight, to suck at Dean’s balls. The underside of Dean’s cock. It swells under the attention. Jack nurses on Dean’s frenulum, that tight little bundle of skin right underneath the head—Dean groans, wriggles back against Jack’s face for that.

“You sure you don’t want me to fuck you, kid?” Sounds desperate. Jokingly, but desperate.

“Not this time,” admits Jack, his hand now milking Dean’s cock upside-down.

“Oh? There will be a next time?” Dean’s chuckle rumbles low. His asshole keeps mouthing at nothing and Jack stuffs his thumb inside just to give it something to work with. Dean groans like it feels good. “Jesus, kid. Killin’ me.”

Jack smiles. Keeps working him.

Eventually, soft: “You’re gonna make me blow if you keep that up…”

“That’s the plan.”

“Jesus… Jesus, are all kids your age this filthy? Did I miss something?”

“Shut up and let me get you off,” and that works.

Dean shifts cute in the sheets. His cock leaks wet in Jack’s fist and is all swollen and heavy with blood, every vein popped and tangible. Jack rubs his thumb over every single one of them, teases around the flared edge of the head, makes Dean growl into the sheets. Two fingers up his ass, massaging Jack’s load in deep. Jack licks his lip. His dick flinches but he’s too sore. No way he can get it up again. It doesn’t matter too much.

“Come,” orders Jack. “I want to see you do it. Come on my hands, Dean.”

With a tremble and a groan, Dean does.

He draws up inside, crushes Jack’s fingers—Jack adds a third despite the pressure to bang it soft again while Dean’s cock throbs hard in his grip, shoots thick into the bed.

“Fuck, fuck…!”

“You’re not done,” warns Jack. Keeps moving his hands. “All of it. Give it to me.”

Dean eventually grabs Jack’s wrist, trembling and panting and telling Jack no, for real, you’re killing me, and Jack scowls but does let up on him. Again, “Jesus,” and Jack’s stomach knots mean and he’s this close to reprimanding Dean for cursing so much. He’s too dizzy and sated and frustrated all at the same time, though. Too distracted by the lazy flop of Dean’s body, the way he squirms into the sheets like a sack of flour and just stays that way. He can’t be that old. Younger than Dad, for sure. “Gimme a minute… Phew.”

A minute turns into five. Into ten.

“We can shower together,” offers Dean. Jack declines. Jack goes by himself.

Dean consoles him. Talks about yeah, see how I told you you’re gonna burn yourself out? “I mean, I can’t blame you.” Dean smirks, winks; still naked, hugging Jack close. “I’m quite the motivation, huh?”

While Dean showers, Jack peels out the money from his backpack. He counts it and fans it out on the nightstand. Dean’s eyes dart towards it first thing once he’s back in the room.

Jack put his clothes back on and smiles up at Dean from where he sits on the edge of the (haphazardly re-made) bed. “Extra, like you said.”

“Hm.” Dean comes over, only a towel around his hips. He picks up the money to count, smacks his lips. He holds his hand out towards Jack without looking at him. “Another hundred.”

Jack gives him another hundred. Dean rolls up the money and stuffs it into his jeans’ pocket.

“So,” he says as he proceeds to wriggle into his jeans, “you mentioned a next time?”

#jacksbirthdayparty #hellhoundsprey #request #spn fanfiction #first time #top!jack #bottom!dean #sw!dean #dean/jack

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some-cookie-crumbz · 3 years

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A Little Charismatic

A Little Charismatic Fandom: My Hero Academia Pairing: FuyuPress Summary: FuyuPress Week 2021 Day 1 Prompt Fill: Life Swap - Never said who had to swap lives and I’m running on too little sleep and too much caffeine to stay in the lines. Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more.

Sako Atsuhiro liked to consider himself an observant fellow, if not also a bit of a creature of habit. He had a handful of places that he enjoyed frequenting, where he knew his face was safe. He could walk about in his usual work garb, with or without his mask and hat, and none of the other patrons would bat an eye. It wasn’t because the company he found in these places was particularly trustworthy or noble sorts, however; oh, no, they were far from that. He had just taken the time to establish that, despite his seemingly frail physique, he was not a force to be tested. He was always watching, always vigilant, watching to make sure that men conducted themselves like proper gents in the company of potential romantic partners. And if not? Well, he may have done a sleight of hand trick to remove a wandering hand or two.

It wasn’t often that there were new faces wandering around his usual haunts, so when there were, he noticed. That night was one such example.

She’d been settled at the bar when he walked in, another bar patron already trying to get cuddly with her. Judging by the glower in those bright baby blues, she was less than impressed. She was an odd one to place as Atsuhiro moved past them, her eyes straying from her suitor to chase him instead. Ah, that was unsurprising. Many a woman’s eyes had wandered over him, taking his attire to mean he must be some brand of wealthy and useful. They’d come over and start up with the fluttering lashes and slow, playful touches while asking for a drink.

It was always entertaining to watch how their expressions shifted when he insisted they have separate tabs.

It took her a full ten minutes to shake the guy she was dealing with at the bar, but once she’d gotten him off, she approached. “This seat taken?” she asked, her hands laced behind her back and head tilted to one side. He chuckled as he sized her up, taking in the leather jacket tossed over a halter dress and combat boots. The damn thing was incredibly low cut and he was quick to avert his eyes, instead taking a sip of the beer in his hands.

“Not at all,” he hummed, indicating the booth seat across from him with the wave of a hand.

She offered him a polite bow before settling into the seat, a nice change of pace. Usually the women that approached would slide in beside him first go, but she seemed to have some iota of manners, at least. “You are a difficult man to track, you know,” she mused slowly, “Mr. Compress.” He froze mid-sip to stare at her, doing his best to keep the shock from showing on his face. Very few knew of his moniker, even when he was out and about in his full regalia, so for her to address him so matter-of-factly… She was a threat and would need to be disposed of. As if sensing the bleak thoughts running through his head, she held her hands up in a placating manner to him. “Don’t worry, I’m not a narc. Or affiliated with one. I don’t think many of the people around here are, in fact.”

“Whatever it is you are trying to play at, dear, you are wasting your time,” he quipped, turning his attention away from her to the bar keep. He seemed to be more focused on a loud, clearly drunk man arguing the merits of his tab, thankfully.

He kept her in his peripheral view, though. Just in case.

She blinked before her face morphed to show hurt. “So quick to disregard me… Ah, that seems to be a trend with men in my life,” she lamented with a long-suffering sigh. He got the distinct impression that most of her behavior was an act. One of her legs shifted out to prod at the side of his calf gently, trying to coax him to look at her again. “Won’t you at least hear me out?”

He scoffed but did return his attention to her. It was the least he could do and might yet yield some further information to help him discern her authentic intentions. “There is no reason to do so outside of wasting both our time,”

“What about a game, then? You seem like a man who fancies a fun game,” she suggested.

A game? Well… He couldn’t help but be intrigued by the hand she was laying down. “Depending on what the wager is, I may be inclined to humor you,”

“Here,” she shifted to rummage through her jacket pockets. After a moment, she dropped three items onto the tabletop between them; a lighter, a small vial of some kind of liquid, and a yarn and bead bracelet. With the items spread out, she picked up the bracelet and dangled it off her index finger, before indicating the other two items with her free hand. “Use your Quirk to put these three items away. Only one of them - this one here - is of any value to me. If I can get this one back from you, you’ll agree to comply with the request I have for you.” When she spoke, she waggled her index finger to attract his attention to the bracelet briefly, before dropping her chin into her other hand.

He blinked owlishly, contemplating her game. It was in his favor, yes, but then it became a question of what she could offer him in return. “And if you are unsuccessful?”

“I’ll comply with a request of yours. No limits,” she drawled the last two words out in a leading way, her fingers lightly drumming away along her own jawline. He wrinkled his nose a bit at her implication, but found it could be a rather useful trap. After all, there would be no indication as to which marble held what once he used his Quick to compress them. Only he would be able to say for certain, and it wasn’t as if he couldn’t easily swap them around if she picked the right one. There was much more to gain in this than he had to lose. “So, what do you say?” She stuck her hand out towards him, beaded bracelet still hanging on.

“Very well,” he said, taking her hand for a brief shake before sliding the bracelet off. Judging by the yarn on it, the thing was old and may be in dire need of some new yarn or replacing outright. He waved the thought off as he compressed it and then set to doing the same to the other two items. Under the table, he was sure to shuffle them around, placing the marble with her bracelet in the back pocket of his pants. He waited until she stepped away to get a drink to make that adjustment, sly grin on his lips. There was no way she’d be able to determine it was there as he wouldn't present it as an option, and then he could easily be rid of her. “There we are now. Just be aware, however, that I am very wise to the tricks a young minx like you is prone to attempting.”

“Is that so?” she hummed.

From there, they started up a fun little back and forth. He tried to get more answers to why, exactly, she knew his street moniker and why she’d been looking for him, but she flitted about the subjects using redirection. It was Take-aPenny, Leave-a-Penny logic she was trying to enact and he couldn’t help but find it amusing. It was clear she had some kind of experience with this kind of situation, with having to negotiate ones hand without tipping it too much. A flurry of questions came to his mind at the thought. She was such a young, demure young lady once she was engaged in a conversation. Something about those mannerisms and the idea of her living her whole life on the streets simply didn’t add up quite right to him.

It did, however, give him a fun little mystery to chase around.

After a good while she shifted to sit more upright, hands folded neatly in front of her. Her eyes were alight with mirth as she repositioned herself. “Well, I think that’s enough of that. I came here to accomplish a goal, not play footsie all night,” She stretched languidly and her gaze shifted from his face down lower, giggling a bit at what she saw.

He blinked twice before glancing downward himself and uttering a small short curse.

His eyes widened as he suddenly registered what, exactly, she’d been playing at all along. A glance downwards revealed a layer of ice sticking to the outer traces of his body, over his legs, hips and wrists specifically. Given that he was wearing his full gear minus his mask, of course he hadn’t noticed the change in temperature! She must have been assessing him during their conversation, skirting about with her verbal distraction while leaking small traces of her Quirk to gauge his reaction...

A clever ruse that he’d fallen into with regrettable ease.

“What in the devil did you do?” he spat, keeping his voice low as his eyes scanned the bar. No one else had noticed their exchange, thankfully. The last thing he needed was other hooligans taking advantage of this situation.

She tilted her head with a feigned innocence. “Hmm? What’s wrong? Don’t like that I used my Quirk too?” The faux concern melted into a mischievous grin of delight as she moved from her perch across from him to sit beside him. She nudged the chunk of ice pinning his legs down with the toe of her boot as she settled in nice and close. “I never said that it was against the rules, you know. And it’s only fair that if you got to use yours, I get to use mine. Wouldn’t that be the gentleman’s viewpoint on this matter?” Her tone was light and playful, but he could cast the mocking wisps underlying her words. Without further preamble, she reached over to rummage through his coat pockets as well as the pockets of his slacks, humming to herself as she ignored his quiet snarls to cease her actions. She leaned back just a bit once she gathered seven marbles in total, swirling one in a circle in her palm. “Ah, there’s more in these pockets of yours than just what’s mine. How uncouth! Scandalous even!”

He tried to twist himself free but the ice pinned up along his wrists and hips didn’t budge an inch. Not even a thin crack was visible, to his uncensored chagrin. “What game are you playing at, wretch?”

“Just the game we agreed to,” she hummed. She peered at his marbles with an appraising eye before stuffing them into the pocket of her tattered denim shorts instead. “Since I’m the obvious winner here, I guess that means you have no choice but to abide by my rule, hm?”

“Name your damn price, then,” he growled lowly.

She giggled and leaned closer, walking two fingers up along his chest to his face. “You’re going to come with me to have a meeting. With. My. Boss,” Each of her final few words was followed by a mocking tap to the tip of his nose. If he could move his hands, he would have firmly shoved her from his personal space, but instead settled for jerking his head to the side. It only made her Cheshire grin grow wider. He could almost see a feline tail swaying in delight behind her, he swore. “He has a very… prosperous job opportunity for you. One that I think you’ll be very much inclined to take.”

This young woman was dangerous, and he was unclear if that was unappealing to him or not.

#My Hero Academia #FuyuPress #Mr. Compress #Sako Atsuhiro #Todoroki Fuyumi #FuyuPress Week 2021 #my fics #I am surprisingly pleased with this one #All things considered

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thr-333 · 4 years

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Mismatch- Part 21

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month

Patrolling with Gotham’s vigilantes is somehow the least chaotic part of their day, emphasises on Least!

First< Previous > Next

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“So you want to explain how you let the Joker go?” Sparrow asks Red Hood, as they pour over plans.

“It happens,” Red Hood shrugs, but she is willing to bet he has a similar expression to Songbird right about now.

“Right, i just want to know how ,” She pushes more, getting Songbird to blush more

“Hey!" Songbird interrupts, getting the attention of the rest of the Bats with them, "I’m good at tracking people,”

“Thats nice,” Nightwing says, gearing up to search for the Joker with Red Hood.

“What I mean is I should come with you while Sparrow goes in the opposite direction,” Songbird turns to glare at her, “Far away,”

“Why would you want that,” Sparrow leans into his space, getting her face pushed away, “I’m just asking a professional question,”

“I have known you for little over a week nothing you do is professional,” Robin tsks, still sour about getting put on Patrol with her instead of going after the Joker.

“Well that’s simply not true,” Sparrows's voice comes out mumbled as marion smooshes her face.

“Right so you will follow the lead Nightwing has,” Batman pushes Songbird towards Red Hood, the greatest detective not notices the growing blush, “You three are patrolling together,”

“What could go wrong,” Red Robin sighs, resigning to patrol with both her and Robin.

“Try not to fall through any windows,” Sparrow calls, as they move to swing in opposite directions,

“Ha ha...I make no promises,” He mutters, heard through super hearing, before shouting, "See you later Captain!

Marinette leaves with Robin and Red Robin. The two bicker until oracle alerts them of three people attacking a girl in an alley a block over. In a matter of seconds of their arrival the three were disarmed and unconscious. Marinette goes to comfort the victim Alya?!

“Al- are you alright?” Sparrow reaches out to help her up.

“Yes, I’m fine thanks,” Alya dusts herself off, finally looking up, “Um, who are you?”

“Sparrow, working in Gotham temporarily,” She says professionally, hoping beyond hope that Alya does not recognise her.

“Right,” She surprisingly misses the chance for an interview, “Listen I need to talk to Batman, is he here?”

“Sorry miss he’s in another part of Gotham what seems to be your issue?” Red Robin answers for her.

“I need to talk to him about something really important,”

“Sorry, but if you’re looking for an interview Batman is very busy,” Sparrow brushes her off, of course she would be salivating to interview Batman.

“What? no-I’m,”

“We have to go, the police will be here soon,” Robin cuts her off, leaving with a Tt.

“Wait!”

“How annoying,” Robin spits, as they leave Alya behind in the alley.

“How did you know she wanted an interview?” Red Robin asks instead.

“Just know the type,”

“HEY!” Alya calls, chasing after them in the street below, “Just wait a minute!”

“Do you think we should stop?” Sparrow asks, feeling guilt claw at her.

“No,” Robin speeds up.

“Please! I really need to talk with you!” Alya begs, “It’s about Paris!”

“Paris?” Robin exchanges a knowing glance with Red Robin.

“We should stop,” Red Robin decides, they come to a halt.

They wait on the edge of the building, so Alya can see their shadows at the top. Alya starts sprinting up the fire escape.

“Tha-Thank you,” She pants, leaning over.

“What's this about Paris?” Robin demands, somehow glaring down at her despite being significantly shorter.

“The Akuma attacks!” Alya explodes, as if it's the most obvious thing, probably is, “Have you heard of Ladybug and Chat Noir? Hawk Moth?!”

“The situation in Paris has recently come to our attention,” Red Robin answers cordially.

“Well it’s been like this since I was thirteen!” Taking them both aback slightly, “And it's only getting worse every day,”

“The heroes of Paris have proved to be capable,” How did Red Robin even know about them?

“That's not what I mean, it’s the emotional toll,” Alya is still out of breath, Sparrow stands off to the side, joining in would only risk her identities, “Do you know what it’s like to be afraid to feel negative emotions? To have to constantly be happy otherwise you could kill your whole family!”

“I’m sure your heroes can handle it,” Robin concedes, bitterness hanging from the tone.

“They can but they shouldn't have to!”

Alya takes her aback with another out burst, stepping towards the Bats.

“I was… I used to be called in by them from time to time, and let me tell you,” Alya pauses, she was probably still mad about getting benched, loving her position as Rena Rouge, “It’s terrifying,”

Now that... that is a surprise.

“Not even the hero part… most the time,” Alya rubs her arm, “But you can’t get Akumatized again otherwise Hawk Moth will know, he can target your friends and family,”

At least she finally understood the need to keep secret identities.

“Ladybug hasent called me in in years,” Alya admits, actually looking shameful, "I don’t know how I messed up,”

Thats the problem

“But I know that I’m glad Ladybug never gave me the miraculous again,”

Wait... WHAT!

“It was so stressful having all of paris, sometimes the world, depending on you,” Alya looks on the verge of tears, “At first I though it was fun because I had Ladybug who seemed so strong and unstoppable, someone I could look up to, for always being there, always put together, she didn't seem to have a weakness,”

That- That could not be further from the truth

“Not that I don’t still respect her, it’s just different now,” Alya backtracks, “I saw it, sometimes, the uncertainty there, it made me think she’s just like me, scared, but she doesn't have anyone stronger to protect her, she’s all alone,"

I have Chat Noir!

“I look up to her so much more now, it’s not a fun job and I know she’s afraid she cant protect everyone, so Hawkmoth needs to be defeated,”

Alya looks every inch the confident reporter Marinette had first met. The one before Lila came and sapped all her strength and independence.

“Ladybug deserves to live in peace,” Alya decides, almost glaring down the other two, “Will you please help her?”

“We already have plans of going to Paris soon to assist,” Red Robin informs.

“You do?!”

“Thank you,” Alya burst into tears, while Marinette is still reeling from the new information, “Thank you so much,”

“How about we escort you back to your hotel?”

They carry Alya to the hotel, swinging through the night. They see her in and set up a watch across the building. They report into Batman, granting permission to stake out for a while. They watch as Alya is talking with the group, including Lila in her room. Marinette could feel the irritation radiating off the other two at Lila’s nonsense.

“Is this necessary?” Robin glares down at the window they are watching through, “She didn’t have any valuable insight,”

“She was a hero in Paris,” Red Robin sighs, evidently glaring just as much, “That's something,”

“And she clearly got the boot for being incompetent,”

“You don’t know that,” Alya had actually been a great fox, but when Marinette could no longer trust her as a civilian, she knew Alya could never wield another miraculous, “Which is why we are watching, follow every possible lead, especially when they’re scarce,”

“Hey listen,” Red Robin nods towards the speaker, connected to the bug he planted on her.

“Marinette really needs to think things through,” Lila whines, all three go to turn it down at the same time, “It’s like she wants the class to get in trouble,”

“But Marinette protected us from Scarecrow,” Rose squeaks out.

“And Marion!” Nino adds, as if they didn't just commit treason in Lila land.

“Of course, it’s just they know all this trouble is following them around and they’re still-” Lila pauses long enough for everyone to be on the edge of their seats, “No never mind,”

“What is it Lila,”

“Well…” Lila plays like she isn't going to tell them everything that never happened, “I was talking to Marinette in the elevator and I told her I felt really unsafe and scared that another villain was going to attack,”

“Mari-Marinette started yelling at me about how I was trying to ruin her trip!” Lila's lip quivers, so painfully obvious she can see it from here, “She said if I felt unsafe I should just stay behind or go back to Paris!”

“Do you feel that unsafe Lila?” Mylene asks, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Wha-”

“Yeah if you’re that scared you should tell your parents,” Kim encourages, enthusiastic, but concerned, “I’m sure you’ll feel better back home with Ladybug,”

“You guys don’t understand,” Lila almost shouts, losing grip on her perfect persona, “Marinette wasn't worried about me; she just wanted me out of the way! Because- well I don’t know why! I think she can just be really cruel sometimes,”

“That little disgusting worm!” Robin makes a grab for his katana.

“Yeah so I hacked the security footage and they have never been in a room alone together,” Red Robin reports, scrolling through a video feed, “Let alone an elevator,”

“Let’s just go,” Sparrow grabs them both by the arms, “I think we’ve exhausted our information,”

She practically drags them off the roof, a few blocks away. Robin’s pacing looking for something to stab. At this rate it’s probably going to be Red Robin, who’s been tapping away at his screen the whole time. Sparrow finds her saving grace, spotting a park down below.

“Let’s go,”

She drags them despite their protests down to the playground. Robin is grumbling the whole time, so she sits him down on the swing, and pushes him. Red Robin starts laughing and may or may not be filming.

“I am perfectly capable of pushing myself!”

“Really have you ever been on a swing before?” She leans over, getting in his face.

“Tt, of course not,” He looks away, “So childish,”

“Well that just means a child can do something you cannot,”

It's really Red Robins laughter that truly breaks him.

“... do not push me,”

“Alright, how about I show you?” She hops on the swing next to him, “Like this,”

Robin copies her form as Red Robin keeps filming, shouting out scores in the negative numbers.

“So help me I will stab you if you don't!-” Robin tips off balance and falls off the swing backwards, “ RED ,”

“That was very good for a first time,” Marinette helps him stand back up, “Keep it up and you might be able to go toe to toe with the three year olds one day,”

They spend the rest of patrol getting chased around the park by Robin, both hurling out insults and condescending reassurance.

Marion had not run into any buildings yet thank you very much. He had ran into a cell phone tower.

“Are you alright?” Red hood lands in front of him.

Marion glares at him upside down, hanging off the bars, as if this wasn't all his fault,

“Fine,” And because he can’t possibly be anymore embarrassed, “Just like you,”

“Of course I’m fine,” He crosses his arms, Marion definitely doesn't give him the once over, “I didn’t just run into a cell tower,”

He’s an idiot!..... He’s perfect

It does not help that Nightwing bursts out laughing.

“Little wing… no,” Nightwing gasps through his laughter.

“What are you-” Red Hood stiffens up, “oh,”

Mayday! Mayday! Abort! Abort! BACK TO PARIS!!! Wheres the Rabbit Miraculous!!!

“Oh,” Red Hood leans in, inches away, “Hell yeah I am,”

Sorry to inform you Marion has now died, Red Hood is indeed a murderer

Unfortunately before Marion has another opportunity to embarrass himself Oracle calls in and they both swing off. Leaving Marion to catch up. They eventually stop for a break without crashing into another building… it was a light graze ok?!

“I swear you and Sparrow are my new favourites,” Nightwing scarfs down another macaron.

“Careful golden boy,” Red Hood warns, stealing a macaron from Nightwing, “You’ll get a lecture form the Bat,”

“Batman can fuck off,” Marion shoves one in his mouth, “He probably lives off protein shakes and brooding,”

“Oh my-,” Red Hood cracks up, “I don’t think I've ever heard you swear,”

“What can I say,” Marion leans back, looking over Red Hood, “You bring out the best in me,”

“I think I’d rather bring out the worst in you,”

… No Marion is not blushing, he is not stuttering, he has everything under control thank you very much.

“Are- are you actually going to eat that?” Marion chokes out, Red Hood still holding his stolen macaron.

That turns out to be the worst possible thing he could have said, because Red hood actually takes off his helmet. There is a domino mask underneath but this is the first time Marion is seeing his face.

“Songbird are you ok?” Nightwing asks.

“I will never be ok again,” Marion falls back across the roof, “Ok is a state before perfection and I can never feel anything but joy after seeing that,”

“Ummm,” Nightwing looks awkwardly between the two.

“You’re pretty,” Marion turns, curling around to look at Red Hood.

“Not handsome?” And fuck he’s smiling, fuck.

“No,” Marion says harshly,“Gorgeous,”

Red Hood looks completely shocked. And god he can actually see his face! And expressions! This is wonderful!

“Yes… well,” Nightwing clears his throat, “We should probably move on,”

“Jealous?” Red Hood teases.

“No, let’s just go,” Nightwing stands, Marion sighs and sits back up.

“It’s alright Golden boy,” Red Hood punches him in the shoulder as he stands, “Plenty of people still think you’re pretty,”

Marion has to stop himself from ripping the helmet out of Red Hood’s hands when he goes to put it back on.

“That’s not what this is about Hood,”

“Sure it’s not,” Red Hood winks at Songbird just before he puts the helmet back on, as if that didn’t cause him cardiac arrest.

They continue along their search equal parts flirting with each other and teasing Nightwing.

“Oi! Shelly!”

Marion looks behind him, mid-swing to spot a familiar taxi driver,”

“Norris!” Marion spins around, landing in front of the man.

“You’re patrolling with them?” Norris nods towards the other two hiding in the shadows, “Where’s your sister?”

“Yeah! Decided on a codename, it’s Songbird actually,”

“Nah,” Norris leans against the hood of his car, “Shelly suits you better,”

“Hell yeah it does!”

Bruce waits for the others to finish up patrol in the Batcave. He has to talk to them about the twins at some point, the sooner the better, before they go back to Paris. It’s just so hard. Would they even accept someone new into the family?

“Father!” Damian shouts the moment he enters the cave, “I demand you adopt Sparrow immediately,”

“What, why?”

“She is a good warrior,” From Damian that is very high praise .

“And helps you skip patrol,” Tim adds, going directly for his after patrol coffee.

“You were complicit in that Drake!”

“You skipped patrol,” Bruce sighs, partly disappointed, partly curious Damian was usually excited for patrol.

“Not really we were watching that student from Paris we told you about,” Tim states, Bruce nods along, “They were talking to another student in the class who is-”

“A filthy liar,” Damian spits, “I have meet them once and know Marinette is far more honourable than that,”

“Lila?” Bruce guesses, thinking back to the fair, on the other hand at least Damian doesn't seem to hate them.

“How did you know?” Tim asks, taking the reports from the desk as he downs the coffee.

“I was with them the other day-”

“Father if you are planning to adopt them I insists you adopt Sparrow first,”

“We’re adopting Sparrow?!” Dick calls, as he walks in with Jason, “Cause we should also adopt Songbird,”

“Are you so offended you would go this far to thwart me?” Jason recites theatrically, “You should really learn to control that jealousy,”

“What happened?” Bruce grows suspicious watching Dick glare.

“Songbird flirted with me,” Jason grins, perhaps a little too widely, “And ignored Dick,”

“I’m not jealous, just worried,”

“Thanks,” Jason looks away bitterly, tone getting harsher.

“That's not what I meant Jason,” Dick cringes, having ruined his good mood.

“What did you mean then?” Jason bites out, making Dick recoil.

“Enough, I’m not adopting them!” Bruce shouts, making everyone pause.

“... That’s probably the first time you ever said that,”

"Alfred!" Jason jumps, Bruce tenses at him reflexively reaching for his gun, "Where the fuck did you come from!?"

"I think you will end up adopting them one way or another Master Bruce,"

"What do you mean," Bruce asks as Alfred takes Tim's coffee.

"Well I think it's time everyone retires for the night,"

"ALFRED! what do you mean!"

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

Taglist:

@technicallyburninggarden @fusser90 @misslenamooney @superbwhispersconnoisseur @biodad-bruce-month @nalu-ismyjam @the-one-woman-army @rosesandsailboats @blackmagicforever @zeneralla @ivymala07 @tired-butterfly @tired-butterfly @Ranger-gothamite @A-star-with-a-human-name @enchanted-nerd

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gukyi · 4 years

Text

for you, anything (post-script) | ksj

summary: in the midst of all of the coworker chaos over your newfound relationship, you and seokjin make a deal.

{established relationship!au, friends to lovers!au, enemies to lovers!au}

pairing: kim seokjin x female reader genre: fluff word count: 2k warnings: bts being annoying coworkers a/n: shoutout to @aurawatercolor for being so wonderful and for commissioning this drabble’s monster predecessor: for you, anything!! thank you for being so patient with me and overall being a good friend of mine. much love!

Here

“Back off, he’s mine!” You shriek, furiously mashing your keyboard buttons as your eyes zero in on your computer screen. Maintaining as much of a grip onto your mouse and keyboard as possible, you push your office chair towards Seokjin’s in a desperate attempt to get him to lose his hold by crashing into him, bumper-car style. You hear the scratchy fabric collide, a soft thud that ricochets you forward, almost like you had crashed into a fuzzy rock.

Naturally peeved, you turn around to find your boyfriend completely unbothered, having moved barely an inch. And yeah, you weren’t great at Physics when you took it in high school, but you have a feeling that that’s not how Newton’s Third Law works.

Unfortunately for you, the split second you spend glaring at the back of Seokjin’s head means that he can go in for the killing blow, sword stabbing through the warrior king on the screen until he collapses in a pool of video game blood. The sound of a death cry and a cheer echos from your computer speakers, and you groan.

“Not again,” you say, exasperated. You toss your head back against the chair, eyes rolling upwards, just enough to make out Seokjin eyeing you, a smug expression written all over his face. “I told you I had him.”

“You just weren’t fast enough, I guess,” Seokjin says casually, bouncing out of his chair to gloat to you all up front and personal.

“You better share all of the money and rewards you got from that kill,” you demand, poking a finger against your cheek. Seokjin kisses you gladly, wrapping his arms over the chair and around you as he rocks your office chair side to side. The benefit of working together in Kingdom is that you always have backup you can trust (unlike some other MMO games, one of which rhymes with Meague of Megends), but Kingdom was designed for loot to be collected by whoever delivers the death blow, and not split evenly among all parties.

Lucky for you, your boyfriend happens to be both good at the game and willing to share all of his treasure.

“Ew, gross, PDA at three o’clock,” Jungkook says loudly, his whiny voice interrupting you and Seokjin’s lovers’ quarrel.

“Ugh, just because you guys can have a successful and empowering relationship doesn’t mean you have to rub it in all of our faces,” Taehyung adds with a huff. At least nobody’s singing playground nursery rhymes about the two of you anymore. Since when last did people actually sit in trees, anyway?

“Get a room,” Yoongi deadpans as per usual. His attitude has not changed even though the state of you and Seokjin’s relationship definitely has. You know you can always count on him to give it to you straight.

“Hey, no making out on office premises,” Namjoon says, barging into the room with his glasses tucked into the collar of his sweater, one of those pastel cream ones that dads who golf wear (though Namjoon is neither a dad nor plays golf). He’s switched to an iPad in recent weeks, which, despite being much more environmentally friendly, is still not Namjoon-friendly, and he often has to troubleshoot basic things like the functionality of the Notes app. Not to mention, his place of employment is filled with twerps who love doing things like spamming his camera roll and locking himself out of his own iPad. You think the record is three hours, but give the device to Hoseok and he’ll get it up to a couple of days with ease. “You guys agreed to that when you signed the employee handbook.”

“You always think so lowly of us, Joon,” Seokjin chides, and since he’s everybody’s best friend, he’s the only one who can get away with doing that. “We were just talking.”

“And playing Kingdom,” Yoongi pipes up, quickly switching away from his Haikyuu!!! tab.

“If there’s a rule against Kingdom in the employee handbook, you’d have to fire all of us,” you remind Namjoon pointedly. Not even Yoongi would be spared, even if he’s terrible at the game itself.

“But if you did, maybe Jungkook could finally live out his dream of being an E-sports gamer,” Taehyung adds, sending Jungkook into a tizzy.

Seokjin scoffs, “He’d have to knock me and Y/N out of first and second place first, though.”

“But please don’t fire us,” Taehyung pipes up weakly.

“Nobody’s getting fired. You guys just better be doing your work,” Namjoon says. “Hey, it says that my iPad is going to be updated later tonight, do I need to do anything about that?”

Everyone groans.

“Hey, what if we got married?” Seokjin nudges you with his shoulder.

You sputter out the water you had been drinking all over your desk. “Married?” It dawns on you that shouting out that word in an office filled with nosy coworkers may not be the brightest idea.

“You guys are getting married?” Taehyung shrieks excitedly. “Oh my God, I call being best man!”

“You don’t get to make that decision, idiot!” Jungkook shouts. “Besides, Seokjin would totally pick me over you anyway.”

“Who says?”

“Guys, we’re not getting married,” Seokjin says before the whole office breaks out into a brawl. Taehyung’s expression falls, sinking back into his chair, defeated. Yoongi had even quirked up for a moment before immediately turning back to his anime. “At least, in real life, we’re not.”

“Oh, you meant in-game?” You ask, the realization dawning on you. You notice everyone in the office eyeing you and Seokjin. Glaring at each and every person, you say, “He meant in-game, mind your own beeswax, you nosy freaks.”

“Obviously,” Seokjin says with a roll of his eyes. “I love you, Y/N, but seeing as how we started dating three months ago, I think that marriage is pushing it. But in Kingdom, yeah, why not? We’ll get a lot of buffs from being married.”

Seokjin’s got a point. Being married in Kingdom means that the two of you will share wealth, property, and have the option of combining special powers during battles. It also means that the game will split boss and player rewards evenly amongst the two of you without you having to do it manually. Besides, isn’t it only right for the top two players in the game to get married? Assert their dominance? Remind Jungkook that he’ll never be an E-sports gamer for Kingdom?

“Sounds like a plan,” you say, easily convinced. Besides, Seokjin could ask you to hand over all of your coins in the game, leaving you penniless, and you wouldn’t bat an eyelash. “We can do it later tonight.”

“My place? We can order takeout.”

“Only if we can get some cheesecake as well,” you say.

“Done.”

Seokjin plants another kiss onto your lips before returning to his own desk, your office chairs facing away from each other as you get back to work, the promise of a nice meal and some quality time together keeping you motivated.

Out of the blue, you say, “I would have said yes, you know.”

“To what?” Seokjin asks, not even turning around.

“To asking if we could get married,” you tell him. He rounds on you, eyes wide. “I would have said yes.”

Seokjin seems frozen in place before he caves, body relaxing as his entire face begins to glow, red and orange and pink. “Tell you what,” he says. “I’ll ask again later, and if your answer is still the same, then we can.”

“How much later?” You ask. You don’t like to be kept waiting. Especially since the both of you know that your answer almost definitely won’t falter.

Seokjin grins. “You’ll see.”

There

“I never liked fancy dresses,” you comment, pulling at the collar of the white dress lacing your features, hugging your body like a bedsheet. It’s scratchy and uncomfortable and restricting, making you feel like you can’t eat a single apple without popping open. There’s a veil with a train the size of the castle behind you, and the tiara on your head is so heavy and sharp that ti feels as though you’re about to topple. All this for a wedding?

“Good thing you’ll never have to wear one again after this, right?” Jin whispers back, the two of you facing the officiant before you as a crowd of onlookers watches the two of you.

“Is that a promise?” You ask. “We’re making a lot of promises today, aren’t we?”

“And I will keep every single one of them with honor,” Jin says dramatically. It almost makes you reach out to punch him in the shoulder, but you don’t for the sake of publicity, hands wrapped tightly around the bouquet, filled with roses and tulips and carnations. You can’t believe you’re saying this, but you think you prefer your knight’s garb. At least it comes with flat boots.

You even tune out what the officiant is saying, an old, monotonous advisor who oversees all military weddings, waiting boredly until you are prompted to respond. Time usually goes by rather quickly in the Kingdom, whether you are strolling through the market or on the battlefield, but here, it feels as though it’s taking forever and a day. Discreetly, you turn to look at Jin, who notices your gaze and rolls his eyes, just to make you laugh. At least the both of you feel the same about this whole thing. You wish there were an easier way to do this, perhaps just going to a courthouse and signing some papers and making a vow or two. Does the entire kingdom have to watch?

“Do you promise to uphold these values, Jin?” The officiant asks.

“I do,” Jin says.

“Do you promise to uphold these values, Y/N?”

Relieved that it’s finally coming to an end, you nod. “I do.”

“Then, by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss.”

Immediately, Jin turns to you, reaching an arm out to hold onto your waist as he pulls you towards him, your faces pressed up against each other, breaths hitting each others’ skin.

“I’ve been waiting all day to do this,” he whispers softly.

“Then don’t hold back,” you challenge.

In one fell swoop, Jin presses a kiss on your lips, soft and warm and gentle. It’s filled with more promises than the officiant could even dream of making, filled with more vows than any wedding ceremony could produce. What this is is more than a silly pledge, a matrimonial technicality. It is an oath. To protect each other. To care for each other. To love each other.

And you know, without a shadow of a doubt, that for the rest of time, until the sun collapses and the moon vanishes, that you will.

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget i’m still taking commissions!

#seokjin fluff #seokjin angst #jin fluff #jin angst #bts fluff #bts angst #seokjin scenario #jin scenario #bts scenario #jin fic #bts fic #bts au #seokjin imagine #jin imagine #bts imagine #w: for you anything

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aenwoedbeannaa · 4 years

Text

Scrubbrush | Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Summary: You have been traveling with Geralt for some time now and convince him to stop for a while to bathe in the stream you’ve just come across. Or, basically smut with no plot.

Warnings: Smut, fingering.

Word Count: this drabble turned into 3,412 words. It’s fine.

A/N: I simply could not stop myself. Hope you all enjoy! Just throwing this out there, I also created a ko-fi page. I will obviously continue to post fanfiction here just as I’ve always done, and do not expect anything from anyone, but it exists, if you’d like to show your support for my creative work in that way.

But obviously, the best way you all show your support to me is just by reading my work. So, thank you all endlessly for sticking around and reading!

If you enjoy my work, you can find all my work on my masterlist. You can also check out my personal blog where I post all kinds of things, including original writing. If you’d like to be added to any of my taglists, let me know and I will add you!

***

The air is warm, the sun bearing down from directly above signaling high noon. You’ve been traveling for several days now, and all you want is a bath. Between the sun bearing down on you all day and the constant movement with little rest, you feel – to be quite frank – disgusting. The dirt and dust from the road somehow looks good on you Witcher companion; but you doubt it looks so nice on you.

You are at least a day and a half’s ride from the nearest town, meaning a bath is at least two and a half days away.

You sigh silently, not wishing to voice these particular concerns to Geralt. He doesn’t seem concerned about it, and you are certain he is not stealing glances at you the way you’ve been stealing glances at him. You try to tell yourself it doesn’t matter – with a rather low degree of success.

But as the two of you continue riding side-by-side, your mood lifts. In the distance, you can see a stream between the trees.

“Geralt!” you exclaim, shocking him out of his thought, “Let’s stop by the stream for a while.” You turn and look at him, batting your eyelashes without realizing you’re doing it. You aren’t quite sure about the Witcher’s feelings—he isn’t really one to express emotion—but you do know that pouting tends to work with him quite well.

“Hm,” Geralt mutters, thinking. “Guess we could stop and water the horses, and we’re going to need to refill the water skins anyway.”

Blushing slightly, you chew on your bottom lip as you look over at him, “It’s hot, Geralt.”

He lifts an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side in apparent confusion. “Yes?”

“I need to bathe, Geralt,” you explain, turning redder.

His eyes widen for a moment, but by the time he speaks a second later, he has collected himself again. “I’ll… prepare lunch.” The man, clearly used to travelling nearly nonstop, is pretty clueless when it comes to typical human behavior. You’ve pointed it out to him several times, and he’s not denied it.

You nod awkwardly, not exactly sure how you feel about the answer or what to make of his momentary loss of composure. Most likely, it is just awkwardness. You doubt that he is thinking any thoughts about joining you in the water. No, those are entirely of your own creation.

It doesn’t take long to reach the stream, where he helps you dismount as he’s been doing since the two of you began travelling together. You always find yourself slightly giddy as you take his hand and dismount, despite the fact that you have been riding horses for years and are quite capable of dismounting without help. But his large hand is deliciously rough, so you don’t complain.

You lead your horses over to a shallower part of the stream, allowing them to drink. You take the opportunity to dig through your saddlebags for a clean pair of trousers and white cotton shirt. You don’t have a towel, but you don’t mind. You bend over to let your fingers skim the surface of the water, smiling to yourself when you find it as deliciously cool as you imagined.

You scan the edge of the tree line until you find the stalks of green your mother had taught you about seemingly an entire lifetime ago. You bend over to pull a few stalks, the pieces easily detaching from the plant.

Geralt, in typical Witcher fashion, seems to sneak up behind you without the slightest warning. You gasp, feeling silly, considering the same thing had been happening for days. He smirks, shaking his head as you stand up, turning to face him. His amber eyes are fixed on the bunch of stalks in your hands. “What is that?” he asks.

You can’t help but let out a small laugh. “Scrub brush,” you respond matter-of-factly. “I thought Witchers knew everything about plants and herbs.”

“Not that one,” Geralt says, reaching out and taking one of the cylindrical stalks, his hand brushing yours as he does so. You would almost swear it was intentional.

“Figures,” you say with a sigh. “You break it and put it in the water, like soap. Works in a pinch, but ‘course Witchers don’t bother with soap.” you say with a shrug.

Honestly, you are so eager to scrub every inch of your skin that the thought of using the rough plant sounds entirely pleasant.

Geralt looks at you, head cocked to the side in a smirk. “Are we really that bad?” he asks, gesturing vaguely at himself. Your eyes roam over his body for a moment, perhaps a little bit too obviously.

You surprise yourself when you speak next, “A wash wouldn’t hurt.” You look up at him through the curtain of your lashes, challenging him. “The stream is certainly big enough for the both of us.” Your expression, however, indicates that space is not exactly something you’re concerned about.

“Hm,” the Witcher says, a low rumble in his chest. His eyes seem to be burning into yours, making heat rise in your cheeks.

Taking advantage of the courage that smoldering gaze are giving you, you smirk, “Don’t worry, I’ll turn around to protect your modesty.”

He laughs, that warm, rumbling sound that makes it feel as if your stomach has been replaced with butterflies, “Shall I walk away and let you change in the bushes?”

Your heart hammers in your chest, excited by his gaze. “And risk poison ivy?” you ask, “I’ll change on the bank. Close your eyes if you must.”

With that, you turn around, feeling quite bold as you walk to the bank, peeling off your sweat-stained shirt and tossing it to the side along with the fresh clothes. You pause for just a moment before unlacing your breeches and letting them pool around your ankles. You are too nervous to glance back at Geralt as you kick off your riding boots, leaving you in nothing but your small clothes.

You take a deep breath, finally gathering the courage to pull off your top, letting the breeze caress your bare skin. You pull your bottoms off next, swearing that you feel his eyes on your back. You stand there for another moment, wondering where exactly the courage you’d felt when you began your walk to the bank of the river went. Now, you are just nervously standing there feeling quite exposed wearing only a scrap of white silk clothing.

You freeze, considering your options. You can remove them and step into the water as you had originally planned, saving your ego. Or, you can let your pride take the hit and leave them on.

Thanks to a certain Witcher, you don’t get the chance to decide.

You gasp, once again not having heard him creep up behind you. You are only alerted to his presence when you feel his breath on your neck as he speaks from somewhere deep in his chest; a tone you’ve never heard from him before.

“Be careful, Miss. You never know when there might be drowners nearby…” Your skin prickles with goosebumps under the unexpected touch of his hand as it brushes down your back impossibly gently. “Or men with wandering eyes.”

You chew on your lower lip, heart hammering in your chest. It takes nearly all of your resolve to keep your head facing forward. “No sign of drowners,” you say smoothly before finally turning your head to look at the Witcher over your shoulder, “But wandering eyes?”

He looks down at you, his golden eyes alight with both desire and conflict. He opens his mouth as if he is about to speak, but no words come.

“What’s the matter, Witcher?” you ask, turning around to face him head-on. “Certainly, you’ve seen plenty of women nearly naked. Or is the sight of me that appalling?” The question you finish on rings slightly of truth and nerves. The Witcher has probably been with loads of women who are far more beautiful than you. Perhaps seeing you like this only disappoints him; makes him wish that it was someone else standing almost naked before him.

He bites his lower lip, shaking his head as if to clear it before finally speaking, “No… You look…” he stammers, searching for words that seem to be caught in his throat, “You have no idea how badly I’ve… wanted to see you – wanted to touch you.”

You smile despite yourself – looking far too eager and far too happy about this latest revelation. You blink up at him, bringing your free hand up to touch the cotton shirt he has stripped down to since dismounting, “Then why haven’t you?”

He sucks in a breath, eyes looking down at his chest where your hand rests for a moment, breathing out in a his, “Fuck.”

You look from your hand to his face before speaking, confused, “What?”

“It’s not appropriate… I shouldn’t…” he continues speaking painfully slowly, “You’re so innocent and—”

You cut him off with a burst of laughter, “Innocent and what… pure?”

You reach with your hand to pull at the already loose laces of his shirt. He sucks in a breath, his lower lip once again caught between his teeth. If you’re being honest, you have next to no experience in this sort of thing, but you are far from innocent. And, even if you were, you are pretty positive you wouldn’t care.

No man has ever made you feel quite like this. It wasn’t like you had no suitors back home – you had plenty. But none of them have quite captured your attention; perhaps it was just that you were more than ready to leave your boring little nowhere hometown, but they had all seemed so uninteresting. Geralt was anything but uninteresting.

“Yes,” he finally admits, “That.”

“I’m an adult, Geralt,” you counter, “I can’t stay like this forever, can I?” You bat your eyes at him.

Hesitantly, he reaches for you, letting his hand brush the hair back from your face and making you shiver in the process. You lean into his touch, savoring the feeling for his calloused fingers against your cheek. He hums appreciatively, enjoying the feeling of your soft skin under his fingertips.

“Geralt,” you sigh, wishing that he would do more than caress your face – as nice as it feels.

“Y/N,” he breathes, free hand wrapping around you and clutching you closer to him. The two of you stop, eyes fixed intensely at one another. Apparently unable to restrain himself any longer, he leans forward, pressing his lips to yours gently.

You respond in kind, savoring everything – the way his shirt and firm muscles feel against the bare skin of his chest, the feeling of his hand pressed against the small of your back, the smell of him, and the taste of his lips moving so gently against yours.

His tongue eases your lips open with the utmost care. You gladly part or lips for him, moaning softly as his tongue explores your mouth, sending shivers down your spine. This kiss is so very different from every other kiss you’ve had. Most often, the mean you’d kissed had hungrily pressed their lips to yours, crushing you against them. Now – you’d have absolutely no complaints if Geralt were to do the same thing, but this was something different. You could feel the wanting in his kiss, somehow more intense than anything you’d experienced.

He wants me, you can’t stop repeating to yourself over and over again.

The two of you stand there, clutching at one another, lips pressed together and eyes closed, warmed by the high noon sun and lost to the world around you for what feels like an eternity but somehow not long enough.

When Geralt pulls away, you lean up on your toes, a disappointed sigh escaping your lips. He laughs lightly, cocking his head to the side as he smirks down at you. “Weren’t you planning on bathing?” he asks playfully.

“I was, until you interrupted,” you tease with a grin.

“Mhmm,” he growls softly, the sound alone making you weak at the knees. “Now don’t stop on my account.”

You look up at him, once again with wide innocent eyes that gleamed with something quite different. “You should join me. You really do have no sense of smell, Witcher.”

“If the Lady insists,” Geralt responds, this time without hesitation as he strips off his linen shirt and begins undoing his belt, “I’m interested to see how this scrub brush works, exactly.” You can’t help but stare, chewing on your lower lip as you watch him. It hits you in that moment that you’ve never actually seen a man naked before – you hadn’t wanted to. You’d always been certain that those village boys were just as uninteresting underneath their clothes as they were outside. Geralt, though… Is quite a different story.

Hesitantly, you step out of your underwear, resisting the urge to cover yourself up. Even with all that has transpired in the last few moments, you are worried that he won’t like what he sees. Those fears are quite immediately quelled, however, when he kicks off his boxers. You try not to let your eyes pop out of your head at the sight of him.

Without much warning, he scoops you up into his arms, carrying you over to the water’s edge and stepping in. You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carries the two of you farther out until the water reaches his waist.

“Geralt!” you squeal as he tosses you into the cold water. Well, at least you’d adjust to the temperature quickly. When your head pops back out of the water, you turn to him with a pout, shaking your head and letting water cascade down your back. And then you splash him.

“So, this is the game you’d like to play?” Geralt asks with one eyebrow raised before diving easily beneath the water, moving with inhuman speed toward you, arms encircling your waist, giving you just enough time to hold your breath before he pushes forward, plunging you under.

You both come to the surface laughing, the water no longer feeling cold against your skin but pleasant. The Witcher catches your chin with his hand, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. He stares for a moment, enveloping you in amber light.

“Ench’eass,” he breathes, almost as if he is speaking to himself.

“What?” You know he is speaking in the Elder Speech, but the meaning is completely lost on you.

“Enchanting,” he responds. “You are enchanting.”

You grin, feeling the familiar heat of a blush on your cheeks. Geralt, however, has an intense look on his face – full of need and wanting. He crashes his lips to yours, much less gentle this time – but you are not complaining. His tongue parts your lips again and you moan into the kiss, eliciting a growl from deep in his chest.

His hands caress your skin underneath the water, and you arch your back, pressing your body against his, wanting to feel your skin touching every inch of him as possible. You let out another disappointed sigh when he pulls his lips back from yours, but that sigh soon turns into a soft moan as he brings his lips first to your jaw and then to your neck, making you throw your head back, giving him complete access to the sensitive skin of your throat.

You feel his lips twitch up into a smile as he continues to explore you with his lips and tongue, making you draw in little sharp breaths as unfamiliar pleasure washes over you. The soft sounds seem to please Geralt, because you can actually feel the almost primal growl where your chest is pressed against him.

“Geralt,” you breathe, dragging your fingers down his chest, memorizing the feeling of each scar they graze over.

“Yes?” he asks softly, pulling away just enough to look into your eyes, drinking in the sight of you breathing heavily.

“Nothing…” you admit, not quite knowing the words you want to use or are supposed to use in this situation. “That just… feels good.”

He laughs, letting his hands drift lower, over your ass and down the backs of your thighs. You shiver again, sucking in another breath as his fingers caress circles on your skin.

“You’re shivering and I haven’t even touched you properly yet.”

Those words, naturally, make you shiver again as warmth pools in your core. You with that he would touch you like he’s talking about. “Please,” you mutter against his chest where you’ve pressed your lips.

“Please what?” he asks haughtily, looking quite amused with himself.

“Please… touch me….” You are stammering, unable to come up with words. “Like… that.”

Geralt smirks down at you, hooking his hands under you knees, urging you to wrap your legs around his waist.

“As you wish,” he says. Thanks to the water, he is able to support you with almost no effort; your arms wrapped around hi neck and your legs wrapped around his waist are enough. He takes advantage of this, letting one hand move to your breasts, grazing over your nipple and making you moan once more. His other hand slips under your ass, and you moan as his fingers gently move over your folds, coming to rest gently on your clit.

Your breath catches in your throat as he freezes there for a moment, amber eyes fixed intently on yours. You seem held there by some unseen force as he begins to move his finger in small, gentle circles, making you moan and throw your head back. No one has ever touched you there before, and you are already drunk on the feeling.

“I’ve wondered what you would look like when I did this to you, Baby.” His words seem to amp up the feeling of electricity building in your core, your mouth opening in a permanent ‘o’. He speeds up slightly, increasing the pressure. It feels so different than when you touch yourself; it feels so much better.

He continues his ministrations, working you with his fingers as his other hand slips from your breasts and down your back. His finger explores your opening for a moment, not pressing in but circling gently before letting his finger enter just inside. Your walls spasm around the tip of his finger, urging him deeper. He obliges, beginning to pump first one finger, than two, in and out of you slowly.

At this point, you are mewling against him, hips moving of their own accord to draw him deeper and deeper. You let out a long, drawn out moan as he adds a third large finger, stretching you deliciously. The pleasure he is making you feel only growing as he curls his fingers gently against that spot inside of you.

“Geralt!” you yell, “Gods, don’t stop!”

“Oh, Baby,” he smirks, “I won’t stop until you’ve come all over my fingers and go limp in my arms,” he says in that deep, primal way that he’s never spoken to you before.

He continues curling his fingers against the most sensitive place inside you while he continues to relentlessly rub your sensitive little nub. You babble incoherently, telling him you are about to cum, and he brings his lips to your neck, biting the sensitive flesh there and making you squeal.

It doesn’t take long before you’re arching your back and clawing at his back, moaning long and loud as the delicious tension that has been building up to the moment that you convulse under the word of his fingers, walls clenching around him and body seeming to move of its own accord as he helps you ride out your orgasm, only stopping once you’ve indeed gone limp in his arms, body spent from such a rush of pleasure.

“Geralt,” you mutter, feeling his hardness against you and desperately wanting to feel him inside you.

However, he simply smirks at your efforts to move your hips in line with his member, cocking his head to the side and smiling at you teasingly. “Uh uh,” he says with a shake of his head. Didn’t we come in here to bathe.”

That is about the last thing on your mind as you look up at him, eyes fixed on his as you crash your lips to his once more.

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